#like damn go outside or create something

[seikatsu-ga-tsuzuku]

Unfortunately I find myself back in the “the only thing that makes me feel alive is playing video games” era. Terrible small hole to find yourself in.

[chipistrate]

Cough cough AU where Dr Rabbit and Vanny both take full control over Vanessa and Gregory's bodies and escape PQ ending style while Vanessa and Gregory consciousness' are trapped in their respective arcade machines and Vanny n Rab try to live a domestic life like 3 star fam and move on from everything they did but they know that taking over Vanessa and Gregory's bodies to try and achieve a more "normal" life style is wrong and that they need to give them control and their lives back but are scared of losing the freedom they've never had in their lives that they've just now achieved cough cough

[wjsns]

and u know what im ready to make my full statement on MENG MEI QI too. the situation is so crazy to me, basically now in 2023 some ujung wont even type out her name because 1. cheating scandal (WHERE SHE WAS THE 3RD PARTY, WASNT EVEN THE PERSON TO CHEAT ON SOMEONE) and 2. doesnt mention wjsn ever and to me that is literally HILARIOUS like, god its just soooo funny to watch everyone pile in with the loudest most popular opinion and not do personal critical thinking, or hey, maybe they did and what mmq did really WAS too much for them to still support her but in that case i raise an eyebrow because idk… a lottt of yall are the same people who will get online and write about loving evil women and letting girls be shitty etc etc and she literally gives you what you asked for on a silver PLATTER, like doing nothing cancellable just giving us a good wholesome woman being evil and selfish and obsessed w herself and everyone turns on her!!!! sorry shes not fucking chuu lmao!? (ilu chuu no hate but there is space for good AND evil girls in my heart😇) im sorry im SO unbothered by her being the other woman in a cheating scandal like i cant imagine something mattering less to me and it actually made me super happy to confirm she fucks even tho the guy was ugly😇 but i said kinda most of this already so SECOND OF ALL about her not mentioning wjsn and shit… another thing i literally have NO problem with?? again, like…… no one was more distraught than me at what happened to ot13 but these are REAL PEOOLEEEEEEEEEE?!????!??? i’ve said this before too but i think its worth mentioning, i think my perspective on WJSN has always been a certain way because i grew up playing soccer on a team of the same ~18 girls for over 8 years and im very familiar with, idk, “team dynamics” in groups of girls growing up together? so i understand what its like to be in a larger group dedicated towards this ultimate, performance based goal together and while not everyone out of those 18 girls is one-to-one best friends and lots of people have pretty significant differences, none of that matters “on the field” or when you’re “working”, and its actually lowkey beautiful hiw such different people can unite together to make their dream happen AND develop really long lasting strong relationships w each other when they would otherwise might not have. so ive never had illusions that wjsn as a group has this monolithic motivator or reason for being in wjsn or being an idol, they are all super different personalities and have different interest areas like acting, musicals, song production, MCing etc! so its really impossible for me to feel upset or bothered in any way when i hear complaints about mmq’s behavior in this area because im like ? she obviously has/had this solo career (that i have to believe she had way more control and stylistic direction over than with wjsn) in her home country where she gets to embrace her personal style and concepts instead of matching wjsns, shes clearly separating from that past image and going in a different direction w her career! it does make me bummed that shes not getting 13 stars tattooed like xiao did but again what am i gonna do, be mad that this artist who i really care abt as a person is going off on their own path and direction? cujung is a ROCK of this fanbase its not like a mmq wjsn mention is going to create millions more ujung and album sales? just never added up to me, IM not gonna feel some type of way about it because stan twit fucking tells me to, like how it feels a lot of ujungs react to everything! that one thing going around that was like “wjsn are coworkers not friends” was sooooo funny for me to watch ujung actually get mad about because like,,, they ARE coworkers? AND FRIENDS?! there are 13 of them? each person has a unique individual and complex relationship with each other person? ah idk why i even bother with these essays the avg kpop stans iq is literally 65 yall love being spoonfed parasocial relationships simulated for ur consumption so much u completely block out ​the fact they are real people

[bomberqueen17]

tone indicators

I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:

they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.

but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.

It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.

So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.

This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.

I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.

But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.

Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.

Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.

And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??

For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)

[foxstens]

never not thinking about how kevin day is david wymack's son

imagine you're kevin, practically born with a raquet in your hand, you grow up with your mother for a while and maybe you ask about your father and she tells you not to worry about it, or maybe you just never ask because she doesn't mention it and you don't know how important it is, yet. then she dies, you're moved to evermore, it's so different from what you've seen previously but you have no choice so you just bow your head and do your best to survive, clinging onto your mother's sport, clinging onto the idea that you'll become a star.

you're there for so long you eventually forget you've ever been outside of it, but you see how desperate riko is for his father's attention so you start wondering, however briefly, about the concept of a father.

then you're in high school, you find the letter and suddenly it's not just a vague concept you have to wonder about, suddenly it's something real and tangible. you've heard of david wymack, it would've been impossible not to since he was a friend of your mother's and considering the kind of team he's taken up to creating, maybe you've even met him extremely briefly at some point. you know enough about the industry to think his team isn't just a publicity stunt, and somehow you know that if he finds out he'll do everything in his power to get you out.

you're not stupid enough to tell riko this, but you do tell jean and he laughs at you. of course he does. but you've been there for too long, you've seen too much, and you're old enough to understand what the master would do if he deemed david wymack to be a threat. you can't leave riko's side therefore you can't tell him any time soon, possibly ever, so you resolve to reading the letter over and over instead. (riko reads it almost as often as you)

then you're 19 and the erc thinks riko is holding you back. you're 19 and you're watching riko stomp on everything you've built up through the years. you're 19 and the letter is the only reason you have the strength to leave.

you tell wymack and the team as much as you dare because they deserve to know the risks of having you here, and wymack takes it in stride, he puts himself and his team at risk and even takes out loans to keep you here, like you knew he would. he signs you and he deserves to know about the letter, the more time passes the worse it'll be when you do tell him, but you can't yet because it's too soon and you don't trust yourself to tell riko no when the time comes.

then neil is asking for your help

now imagine you're wymack. your childhood was shit and you didn't have the support you needed at the time, but you believe you can be better than the hands that shaped you. kayleigh taught you everything you know about exy, and you loved her so it stung when she died and you couldn't be there for her only son. but, no matter what you might think of tetsuji moriyama, you don't think kayleigh would send her son to an unsafe place. you just go on with your days, maybe tune in on the news to see that kevin's doing well. you have no reason to think otherwise.

when you have the opportunity to start an exy team from scratch, you dedicate it to the kids that need another chance, the kids the world has given up on. you'll never give up on them.

then, what feels like a lifetime later, kevin day is standing in front of your hotel room and asking you for help. he's saying his 'beloved brother' broke his hand, he's saying the moriyamas are part of the yakuza, he's saying they'll kill him if they find him. throughout the year you get to know him better, you see that he's grown up to be a caged and abused wreck, you see he was raised to care about nothing but exy, you see him having a panic attack at the mere mention of having to face his former team, you see him drinking himself to oblivion to cope. you can't undo the past so you do your best to support him now, but damn if you don't wish you could've been there for him.

then he's telling you he's your son

[r1nstaaa]

Mingyu x fem!reader

MDNI!!! this ones for u, maya <3

warnings: uh idk sex? raw sex yes. angst if u squint. smut mostly. childhood bsfs to lovers. happy ending bc im too soft sorry. it's my first time writing smth like this pls be nice

should mingyu feel ashamed? ashamed for thinking about how good those tiny hands of yours would feel around his thick cock, pumping him and stroking him while you’re on your knees looking up at him through those oh so innocent eyes of yours? should he feel ashamed for not focusing on a word you’ve been saying for the past 15 minutes, his eyes being glued only to your chest and lips?

it started when you were in high school. you and mingyu had been inseparable, almost as if your souls were created from the same one. he lived next door to you and you would go to his place every time you wanted to do something together. your mom treated him like her own son and his mother had practically accepted you as family.  you could never have imagined a life without him. and frankly, you’re not even sure if you’d want to.

it wasn’t until the day that mingyu broke the news to you that you realised it was time to let go. it was time to let go of all the big warm hugs, or the ‘bear hugs’ as your mingyu liked to call them. it was time to let go of all the cheek kisses, all the lingering gazes that you were both too scared to act on. you wished you could have said it. you wished you were brave enough. but you weren’t. and neither was he. 

he was leaving for korea in a week and there was nothing for you to do except let go of him.

you wished you could have gone about your life casually after his leave, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t miss him everywhere. you missed him when you went to the restaurant where you bought him his favourite spicy ramen. you missed him at the park where he made you laugh so hard you almost choked on your soda. you missed the smile on his face every time you told him you hated him for making fun of you. the smile that made you wonder if the stars envied him for the way he could brighten up darkness so effortlessly.

it wasn’t until 6 years later that you finally caught a glimpse of him again. 

you were at the airport in korea. you’d managed to fulfill your dream of becoming an architect and had finally gotten a project outside of your country. you saw flashing cameras, paparazzi, and a huge crowd of people surrounding a 6’ something guy wearing a mask and some sweats. you never got the idea of surrounding people as if they’re some god. they’re just people too after all. 

you had managed to get through some of the crowd when you reached for your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. you pat it several times just to make sure until you realised something. shit. it was missing.

it was right when the realisation hit you that you felt a tap on your shoulder. you turned around and were face to…chest? god, this man was freakishly tall. you looked up to meet his eyes with yours and it was as if the breath had been knocked out of your damn lungs.

mingyu.

it was YOUR mingyu. 

“y/n?” he questioned, almost to himself. he couldn’t believe it. it was you. there were so many thoughts trying to rush their way out of his heart into his mouth that they seemed to all get clogged up in his throat. your name was the only thing that felt right on his tongue.

“gyu?” you questioned back, the look of surprise on your face quite evident.

“you dropped your phone.” he said, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second. almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear the second you left his eyesight.

“i- oh yeah. thank you” you managed to sputter out as you took the phone from his hand. “what are you- what are you doing here?” you ask him. oh god. this was such a dumb question. what was he doing? you knew what he was doing. you stalked his account like a thousand times. you knew he was an idol.

he flashed a smile when he heard this question. the smile that you hadn’t seen in at least 6 years. it was almost as if it was reserved only for you. he was about to answer you when his bodyguards notified him about something that made his smile drop. 

“i’ll reach out to you later. i promise.” he said as his bodyguards seemed to rush him out of the airport. you were left there alone with your countless thoughts and overflowing emotions, unable to decipher which one was tugging at you more.  

and so, here you were, in your new and surprisingly well furnished flat, all thanks to your sister. you had changed into your tank top and shorts while emptying your bags and setting up your closet. your room was fairly clean by now, even though you were only about halfway done. you had never been a fan of messy surroundings anyways. 

right as you were about to put the last pile of your shorts into your closet, you heard your phone ring. 

“oh. an unknown number? at 9 pm? isn’t it a bit too late for that? or maybe it isn’t?” you thought to yourself. you figured the culture here at korea must be different. 

“hello?” you said, hoping for some sort of an explanation as to who it was.

“hi.” the voice on the other side greeted you. it was almost embarrassing how quick you were to realise who it was.

“mingyu… oh, hi. um, wow. hi.” your voice was shaking already. oh god. way to go, y/n.

“yes,  hello.” you could hear his honey laced laughter from the other side. it made your heart melt. “how have you been?”

“i- okay. first of all, how the hell did you get my number?” you asked, a hint of bewilderment in your voice.

“i had it memorised.” you could HEAR the love in his voice. this was so bad. you were doomed. 

you didn’t really have anything to say, nor did you trust your words at the moment. you were afraid if you said something now, everything else would spill out uncontrollably. 

“why didn’t you call earlier?” your voice was getting shaky. oh no. you knew this was a bad idea. “it’s been 6 years gyu. 6 fucking years.”

‘“i know, i know” mingyu cut you off before you could continue, your words shooting daggers at his heart. he’d always hated seeing you cry. but the pain was different when he was the one making you cry. “i’m so, so sorry. god, i have so much to make up for. please trust me when I tell you there hasn’t been a single day when you haven’t crossed my mind. i know 6 years isn’t nothing. ghosting you was a dick move. i- please. don’t cry. no. god, can i come over?” he asked, picking up on your silent sobs just as well as he did back then.

and just like he used to be back then, he was here at your doorstep to make you forget about everything that ever made you sad. except that this time, he was the one making you cry. he couldn’t ever forgive himself for this, but he could try to atone for his sins, as he’d like to call it.

you weren’t exactly crying anymore, since you’d always been pretty good at regaining your composure. but there was a certain emptiness in your heart, one that you knew only gyu could fill.

you were standing face to face, him panting slightly because of the 7 flights of stairs he’d just conquered. 

“hey.” you said. 

“hi.” he looked down at you. the longing in his eyes too evident for you to ignore.

“no security this time?” you questioned with a smile on your face.

“ah, no. that was airport security. kind of a formality.”

you nodded. “you’ve gotten so big. i can’t even hug you now.” you said while giving him a faint smile, referring to the dozens of fangirls he was surrounded by and not to mention, the security.

“oh bullshit.” he said as he pulled you into the tightest hug you could have ever imagined. his arms fully caging you in as if he never intended to let you go. and you wouldn’t admit it, but you never wanted him to either. 

“i missed you.” he whispered into your hair. “god, i missed you so much. i’m so sorry.” 

he spent 3 hours explaining why he couldn’t contact you and what he had been upto without you. after a while, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about anything besides the fact that one, he did not have a girlfriend. and two, he had changed a lot. appearance wise, that is. he wasn’t the mingyu who had left for korea anymore. he was taller, stronger and undeniably hotter. little did you know, mingyu had been thinking about the same things as you were. when did you get so fucking irresistible? i mean, sure he did have a thing for you back in high school. hell, he hasn’t even been able to get over it for the past 6 years, but seeing you like this, with barely anything on and a newfound confidence which you certainly did not have back then ignited something in him. he didn't know how long it would be until he finally gave in.

and so, here you were. facing him on your bed, talking about some degree of yours, when all he could focus on was the way you licked your lips before continuing, or the way your tits were almost fully out on display for him due to that sad excuse for a clothing item you were wearing. you noticed too. he wasn’t exactly being subtle. the way his knees were touching yours and the way he kept playing with his fingers was driving you insane.

“well, then yeah. here i am now, i guess.” you finished telling him about your life. you were almost completely caught up on each others’ stories now, or so you’d like to believe.

his stare hadn’t once left your lips. you hadn’t really noticed how close his face was to yours until you had finished talking.  “gyu” you questioned, your voice almost a whisper. the space between you could be easily closed with just a lean forward from either of you. it had come down to self control now. and lucky for you, mingyu barely had any when it came to you.

“can i?” he questioned, his lips almost on yours. almost. 

you responded by putting your lips on his, and his hands immediately snaked around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. his grip on you was so strong, it made you whimper against his lips. you didn’t bother pulling away to breathe, the action seeming a bit too unimportant at the moment. you had other things to do right now. “gyu..” you moaned out as his lips made their way down to your neck. “so sweet. so good. been thinking bout this for so long.” he whispered against your skin, punctuating each sentence with a kiss on different parts of your neck. his hands made their way up your top, making direct contact with your skin. the warmth radiating off of his hands made you melt under his touch. 

his hands came up to grasp the hook of your bra as his mouth worked wonders on your sensitive spot. “can i? please?” he asked before unclasping the hooks and discarding the small material of clothing into a small corner of your room. his hands snaked further up your body as he guided your top over your head. he had your tits right in his face now. “fuck… so pretty.  shit, all for me?” he asked as he latched onto your right nipple, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud while his hand worked wonders on the left one, pinching at it, making you squirm. “yes.. gyu please. need more. need you.” 

“patience baby. been wanting this for so long. gonna make it worth it.” he said as he took his shirt off. god, it was a sight to see. he was gorgeous. the toned abs, the huge biceps, and not to mention, that beautiful face, he was going to be the death of you. “like what you see?” he questioned teasingly, but your brain was too focused on the way his hands were squeezing your tits while he used his mouth to suck and nibble at your collarbones. he stopped all of it to grab your attention, and you whined at the loss of contact. “gonna need answers baby. be a good girl and use your words, hmm?” you moaned out a weak ‘yes’ as a response, but he accepted it out of mercy.

“lie down for me, pretty girl. on your back, thats it” he said as he helped you get off his lap and onto the mattress. his lips travelled all the way from your neck to your breasts, down to your tummy. he placed several wet, sloppy kisses all over your tummy, making sure to mark you as his on any part of your skin that was visible. your neck had already served its purpose as his canvas, his art on full display for any man who’d even dare to look at you. he wouldn’t admit it, but he was completely obsessed with the idea of making you his. god, he wanted you so bad. 

his hands found their way to the waistband of your shorts, which he tugged at as a way of asking for your permission yet again. you pulled them off yourself making him let out a groan at your compliance. he was facing your clothed cunt, the wet spot on it embarrassingly evident. he kissed it once, looking up to see your reaction. “does that feel good, love?” he asked as his hand made its way to your core, rubbing light circles on it through your underwear. he was such a tease. 

you couldn’t find it in yourself so speak, so you just nodded. this made him stop again. “please baby, i’m gonna need you to use your words, yeah? tell me how good i’m making you feel.” he said as he spat on that damp spot on your underwear, teasing you even further. “mingyu… feels so good.” you managed to moan out, earning a chuckle from him. “see, it wasn’t that hard baby.” 

he pulled your panties off, spreading your legs even further and getting down on his knees on the floor as he pulled you towards the edge of the bed. “such a pretty pussy. can’t wait to taste you baby.” 

his fingers danced against your clit, tapping slightly in an attempt to tease you. this made you let out a whine. “shh baby. i’m gonna take my time with you.” he said, as he tapped his fingers against your lips, signalling you to take them in. you wasted no time in sucking on his fingers and coating them with your saliva. “such a good girl.” 

his hands slid against your folds, the coldness of your saliva mixed with your slick making you shiver. he rubbed on your clit while his other hand was busy playing with your tits. he inserted one finger into your hole, making you gasp. 

“shit, you’re so fucking tight. need you wrapped around me.” you felt his tongue lapping against your cunt, the feeling sending you into overdrive. you had your hands in his air, tugging at it for some sort of control. “ah- gyu, please. fuck.” he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations reaching straight to your core. just as you felt your high approaching, he gave your clit one last kiss before pulling away. you felt tears well up in your eyes as you let out a whine at the loss of contact.

“aww baby. ‘m sorry. but if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be around my cock.” such a fucking tease.

he pulled his pants off, revealing his deliciously prominent bulge in his boxers. he was palming his cock while staring at your cunt. fuck. 

“shit baby. you’re so beautiful. you want me to fuck you?” he knew the answer. of course he did. he could see you how you clenched around the nothing at the sight of his cock being freed from his boxers. lord have mercy. “yes min. please fuck me.” you managed to choke out. that was all he needed.

he stood between your legs, teasing your entrance with his cock. he slowly rubbed against it, gathering your wetness before slipping it in. the stretch you felt made you moan out loud. the sound was music to his ears. once he was buried inside fully, he waited for you to let him know it was okay to move. 

“shit, you feel so good baby.” he groaned, holding back the urge to thrust hard into you and absolutely ruin you for anyone else. but he knew it was too soon. he wanted to savour this moment, feeling your warmth surrounding his cock. he leaned down to kiss you as he began to move steadily, swallowing up all the sounds you were making. “f-fuck gyu, feels so good” you whined against his lips. his hips rocked into you, building up a rhythm. each powerful stroke made your breath hitch, as your nails were busy creating their own masterpiece on his back. he was proud of it too. 

his hands were on your waist, gripping it tightly as he thrust into you. he was picking up his pace. he pressed down on your abdomen, making you gasp loudly. “you feel that baby? feel my cock against your tummy? does that feel good?” he asked, his voice hoarse and laced with ecstasy. “y-yes min. i’m close, fuck.” he knew from the way your pussy clenched around his cock that you were close. his rhythm was starting to falter as he approached his own high.

“where’d you want it baby? want me to come on your pussy? gonna look so pretty.” you nodded, barely registering his words. you were so close. “please.” was all you could let out. your breathless plea was enough to convince him. 

your eyes squeezed shut as you felt yourself come undone around his cock. a few more thrusts and he pulled out, spilling his seed all over your pussy. he collapsed onto you, placing feather light kisses all over your neck and collarbones.

“i’m never letting you go again, you know?”

“i know.”

“i love you, y/n.” 

[dabislittlemouse]

“𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 ���𝐞…”

Part 2 | Dabi x fem!Reader

CW: yandere themes, some mentions of noncon, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, complicated feelings, stockholm syndrome

SYNOPSIS: you are finally saved from the hands of your captor, who was now locked up, far away from you. But to this day, the memory of him still haunts you in your dreams, still so present in your life, still reminding you that you are his girl.

A/N: here the reader finally decides to read Dabi’s letters, we’re taking it slow guys ;)

Part 1 | REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Your hands rummaged through the mailbox to grab the letters that were sent from Tartarus. You stared at the envelopes, your chest suddenly feeling tight, for a second you were about to change your mind and throw them away. Though you felt something gnawing inside of you, the guilt and fear of ignoring Dabi, you felt like you were still obliged to him even if he was now locked away, technically out of your life. You must read those letters and you must reply back. You wouldn’t want to anger him would you?

“You know what happens when you make me mad..” Dabi would whisper in your ear, grabbing your wrist tightly. “Don’t get out of my eyesight, I won’t repeat myself twice.”

You vividly remember how that day he had taken you to the shopping mall, wanting to spoil you with nice things since you’d been so good to him lately. Though as you would go through the aisles, staring in awe at the variety of clothes and cute things you could buy, you forgot that you had separated from Dabi, when he had clearly told you not to go too far and wait for him.

“Shall I put ya on a leash and drag you around for you to finally understand?” he scoffed.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled. “I won’t walk away again”

First thing you would always do was apologize of course, because you knew how far Dabi would go. If he said something, he would actually do it. And you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his heinous acts. You remembered how tense you felt, if you had run away and called for help back then, would someone have helped you?

“No” Dabi’s voice echoed in your head. “They would ignore your pleas, leave you there to die, thinking that some righteous hero will come to save you soon. But they don’t care. This is what society has become, rotten to the core.”

This was what he was fighting against, to burn down the whole system, take down the corrupted heroes, and he would passionately talk about it with you, making you part of his bright future.

You shook your head off the thoughts taking over your mind, and opened the envelopes, grabbing the one of the letters.

“My pretty girl,

wonderin’ what you might be doing right in this moment as I write this. Have you been good? Are you inside your little apartment, watching those favorite TV shows of yours? Or are you outside, going to places that I don’t know of? Meeting new people, having fun and all that? Trying to create a new life after our separation, trying to fit back into society…

I bet you are. I wonder how that is going~

As for me, I am sitting here, losing count of days while being surrounded by these four walls 24/7. Kinda boring to be honest, nothin’ much happenin’ around here. You are all I think of baby, and the remains of your pretty face in my memories. My hands are itching to just grab at it and kiss it just how it deserves to be kissed. I gotta admit, this punishment is much worse than being locked up, it hurts a lot baby. Knowing that all this time you haven’t bothered to check on me once…damn, it really hurts a lot~

You like hurting me though don’t cha? I guess it’s fair, knowing the ways I’ve hurt you and marked your body all over. But you know that it was all out of love, right? That’s how I like to express it, just imagining what a piece of art your body looked like whenever you ended up on my hands baby..

Fuck it- even now as I think about it I’m aching, and your pretty mouth, that soft tongue could be the only solution to my problems~

Do you realise how much I crave you? Physically and mentally, look what you do to me princess. And the more you ignore me, the less that fire goes away. I guess distance strengthens relationships don’t you agree? I wonder how you’ve been feeling lately, do you miss me? Just a little bit? I bet ya do~

I miss you a lot. Terribly. I ain’t good with words so that’s how much I can express it. Y’know I’m mostly a man of actions, words don’t do it for me.

You can ignore me all you want, I won’t stop writing you. I know one day you will be sitting down to read these letters, because I know you feel the same fire inside of you that only I ignited. We are made for each other, you are just meant to be mine, never think otherwise.

Waiting patiently for a letter back. Make sure to put something in your envelope as well. A recent picture of you, your perfume, or maybe something else, y’know it~

Yours only,

Dabi.

For a while you stared into nothingness, only the sound of your heartbeats in your ears. The letter was clutched tightly on your hands.

“Fuck..” you whispered, before letting out a breathy laugh. You continued laughing to yourself, all while your eyes filled with tears. You weren’t sure if those tears were tears of anger, sadness, hopelessness, fear, love, maybe altogether.

You were terrified, that was certain. Terrified that he still hasn’t forgotten about you, nor given up on you. Terrified that he still thought that this fucked up relationship was true love, despite all the suffering you endured. Through all those sentences and words, you could feel as if Dabi was right in front of you, you could even hear his voice reading the letter for you. It’s like he had possessed you, like a demon that took place in your body and mind forever.

“This isn’t love..” you mumbled. “This is not love, this is NOT LOVE!”

You screamed at the letter, throwing it away.

“I hate you!” you finally burst into tears. “Why can’t you leave my life?! Why, why, why?!”

Why do I miss you like this?

Have you become addicted to the hurt and pain? Or maybe the way he would hold you close and kiss you and worship you right after he completely broke you, maybe you got addicted to that. You could only imagine his reaction if he knew what you’re feeling.

“Told ya so” he would say with a cocky smirk on his face and his cerulean eyes glaring at you hungrily. “Me and you are meant to be”

The rest of the letters pretty much held the same content, though the more he wrote, the filthier he got. It was clear that he craved you badly, as he sat there alone in the prison cell. You squeezed your thighs shut, swallowing nervously while your body remembered the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of you, always hitting that one special spot deep inside of you and making you see stars.

Apart from everything, Dabi was sexually frustrated. Hands just weren’t enough for the job, they could never replace the way your wet cunt wrapped so nicely around his aching cock. He was getting off on memories, every day and every night, bringing back on his mind the ways he would take you, softly or roughly, just as he pleased. He loved the way you screamed and cried and begged for him to stop, he got addicted to it, nothing and nobody else could even get him hard anymore.

“Do you still get wet for me baby?” Dabi wrote in one of the letters. “Do you play with yourself late at night while remembering the way I ate that pretty pussy of yours, slurping every remaining juice, licking that sweet clit.. I almost drool as I think about your flavor, need to quench my thirst so bad. Just need to dive in between those plush thighs of yours and devour you all damn night, until it gets too much and you start crying. And even then I won’t stop, cause y’know hearing you cry just gets me off real nice. Yeah I am sadistic like that, you already know it baby. And yet you like me just the way I am, you always feel that thrill, I can tell by the way your pussy fluttered each time I got my hands and fingers on it, each time I left marks on you, my little painslut”

Dabi was sure he had turned you into his little masochist, he trained you to cum only when he inflicted pain on you, and the pleasure mixing with it sent you over the edge.

You took all the letters and made sure to get rid of them, burning all of them until they were nothing but ashes. Though the words written in them never burned away, they planted themselves deep inside of you, not leaving your mind for the rest of the day. As the days went by, you decided to distract yourself as best as you could. Meeting your old friend, going out for a walk, going shopping, karaoke nights, watching movies, going for a drink, you name it. And yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling of emptiness, that in some fucked up way only that monster could fill. How could you be so terrified of someone and yet so addicted at the same time? You were sure it would pass as time went by, but it never did. Your body still held the memories of the past, the nasty burn marks were there, probably would stay there forever too. For some reason you found comfort at the old memories, at the old feelings, the abuse had become a familiar thing to you, and you wanted familiar. The outside world and its people, no matter how much you tried to fit in, it was all foreign, unfamiliar, you didn’t belong there.

You belonged to him only.

“Face your fears” someone used to say. “Once you bravely face your fears, they won’t haunt you anymore. Make it known that you don’t submit to them anymore, they don’t affect you anymore, they don’t scare you. And it will all go away”

Should you face Dabi? Should you tell him right to his face that things between you and him have ended forever, that you now are living a good life, happy, away from him? Would that be a lie? Yes.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me” Dabi used to say. “I can tell when you’re lying baby.. I hate liars”

***

“Two more weeks” the guard said, not turning to look at the prisoner. “The boss said we are at the last steps of preparation. We will finally get you out of here, sir”

Dabi nodded, exhaling the smoke of cigarette. “I am a patient man”

The guard continued. “One of our men informed me that the girl had called the prison yesterday, asking how the visiting hours worked in here”

Dabi quirked a brow, slowly turning his head towards the guard outside of his door. A grin creeped up his face, his eyes widening in pure thrill. “Is that so? Haa, m’getting excited now, seems like the little angel indeed misses me a lot”

He stood up, heading towards the door and peeking through the small window.

“Let me know as soon as she decides to come and visit. Must look decent in front of ‘er”

The guard chuckled.

“Of course, sir”

🏷️ tags: @hunajan @touyalove @murderous-snail @syrenkitsune @baby-tini

[skyahri]

Yours |Suguru Geto X Reader|

Summary: One bed trope with Geto <3

Warnings: SMUT! Sex, piv, oral (f receiving), choking, spit, making out, cream pie, all pork no plot.

- - - - -

It was supposed to be a simple exorcism; just a class one curse in the Aomori prefecture who only showed up under specific circumstances. What circumstances were, you weren't sure.

It's the height of the Nebuta Matsuri festival, meaning every hotel in a twenty-mile radius was packed full. Principal Yaga tried his hardest, but there was only one available room when he booked for the night, and that room only had a single queen-sized bed.

You sighed. Of course, the one time you actually needed a hotel would also be the one time no proper ones were available.

"It's not so bad, Y/N. Better me than Satoru, yeah?"

Hardly. Yeah, he was a huge flirt, but that was better than Geto's passive advances. You could audibly reject Gojo's passes at you. You could curse him and tell him off. You could put your hand on his face and shove him away. But Geto? He was conniving and backhanded with his compliments and one-liners. He'd sneak it into conversation in a way that would make you seem crazy for acknowledging it.

"At least Satoru is skinny. You'll take up half the bed."

He snickered at you, watching as you pulled random articles of clothing out of your bag and sauntered over to the bathroom. He stripped down to just his underwear and got under the covers before you had the opportunity to see him. He wasn't shy, he just knew if you'd seen him with such little clothing under there he'd be in for an earful.

You exited the bathroom and made your way around the room, turning off lights and double checking locks. Geto could only watch in awe as you moved. He was expecting you to wear something more conservative, so your shorts and tight t-shirt combo really through him through the wringer.

He'd never really seen you outside of your uniform. Until now he'd only guessed what was hidden underneath. He'd always been attracted to your strong personality, so it really didn't matter in the end, but damn was this a nice surprise. He stared at your ass as you walked towards the door and at your breasts when you walked back towards him. The light from the lamp was not helping the situation, further creating a more personal environment and making his rapidly growing hard-on more prominent.

"Got a staring problem?"

His eyes quickly darted up to meet yours. He sucked in a breath of air, trying to settle his racing heart and cool his thoughts.

"Just surprised you're actually a girl."

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. Was he seriously trying to play that amount of staring off as nothing more than a glance?

"Who knew, right? Now you can indulge in all your little fantasies guilt-free knowing there's not a dick hiding underneath my skirt."

You climbed into bed next to him and laid down. You tried to ignore his gaze as it flitted across your face and chest, but damn was it difficult. His usually soft gaze was solid, like an animal eyeing up its prey. The way he turned from his back to his side and propped his head up with his hand made every muscle in his arm bulge.

He couldn't help it. The way you angled your body towards him and brushed your hair behind your ear. The teasing glint in your eye was truly brutal for his dumb monkey brain.

"Not enough blood flow up there, big guy?"

It was almost too easy to mess with him at this point. His face was ever so slightly flushed and his fists had begun to grip the sheets. He swallowed hard, trying to think of something, anything, to retort with. He kept drawing blanks. His usual sense of humor would only add to the tension that was already crushing him.

"Come on, Sugu, it's no fun teasing you if you won't fight back."

You sat up with your legs tucked under you and leaned forward. Your hands pressed flat against the bedding between your knees, accentuating your bust even more so.

"If you'd like my participation, you're going to have to tone it down, princess."

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

He was quick to take control of the situation. In an instant, he grabbed your hips and moved you underneath him, making you squeak in surprise. You could feel his erection pressing into your core. You stammered for a second, your hands reaching to grip on his biceps

Despite all the jokes, you hadn't expected him to make a move. He was a flirt, sure, but you'd never taken any of his advances at anything more than face value.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He shifted his position, causing his dick to dig into your heat a bit harder. Your legs instinctively tightened against him. He smirked at you, taking it as a sign to continue.

"Where's all that whit now, huh?"

He slid his hands down your legs until they were behind your knees. He put almost his entire body weight on you, forcing your legs flush against your chest. He shifted his hips back and forward once, using his bulge to slide your shorts to the side.

"You had so much to say a minute ago."

He fronted his cock against your lacey panties. The new angle made it easier for him to hit all your sweet spots. You bit back a moan, determined not to completely unfold in front of him. He kept grinding against your heat, noting how much wetter the fabric was becoming with each pass.

"You feel so much better than I imagined,"

"S-Suguru-"

"I can feel how wet you are and we're barely getting started."

He dipped his head down to your neck, lightly brushing his lips against your skin.

"Tell me you want me."

"What?"

"Tell me you want me just as much as I've wanted you all these years."

His movements halted while he waited for you to answer. He didn't lift his head, instead opting to nuzzle the dip in your collarbone.

A wave of emotions overcame you. What the Hell was he talking about? Was he seriously suggesting that all the playful innuendos and chivalry were attempts to win your affection? Had your unrequited crush not been so one-sided after all?

"Of course I want you-"

He didn't hesitate to smother you with a kiss. Your hands went to cup his face and slid back into his soft locks. He trailed his lips down your neck. When he got to the hem of your shirt, he removed his hands from your legs, opting to hold you in place with his brawny shoulders instead, and slid his hands up your waist.

"You're so soft,"

He cupped your breasts in his large hands, flicking his thumbs over your nipples.

"So fucking pretty,"

He peppered gentle kisses down your stomach. His hot breath tickled your skin, making his gesture all the more enjoyable.

"I cant wait to make you mine."

He tugged your shorts down and hastily removed them.

"Lacy panties and no bra? It's like you wanted me to take you."

He shoved the fabric to the side. He darted his tongue out to gently brushed your clit. You twitched, startled by his actions despite knowing what all the lead up was for.

Geto found pride in your reaction. He wanted more. He repeated the action, creating a steady pace of sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud. You couldn't help but squirm beneath him, the only solace being his tight grip around your thighs keeping you in place.

He smirked. Your moans were loud in his head, a sound he'd be sure to never forget. You gripped his hair. You weren't sure if you pulling him closer or trying to put space between your most sensitive bits and his unholy mouth, but you needed to do something.

"Relax princess,"

His voice was like silk, it always had been. Something about his usual nickname for you coming out in what was apparently his bedroom voice was alluring.

You couldn't relax, though. Not when that familiar knot had started to form in your stomach. His tongue was unrelenting, almost like he was trying to punish you for crimes you hadn't committed.

"Suguru,"

You mumbled his name under your breath. You could hardly think with the way he flattened his tongue against your folds. You barely register the quick squeeze he gave your thigh before removing his hand and curling two of his fingers in your cunt. You tense at the sudden intrusion, but quickly let the rhythmic thrust of his hand melt it away.

He picks his head up for a moment but continues to pump his fingers in and out, going as far as adding a third digit into the mix. He takes in the view- your shirt ridden up just under the swell of your breasts, back arched and panting as you approach your climax.

"Stop staring."

Flustered, you push his head down, and he gladly takes the hint and continues to eat you out like a man on the brink of death.

Your legs begin to tremble as you feel the onslaught of your orgasm. The rush of blood in your ears and lack of oxygen in your lungs drives the ecstasy forward tenfold. Your fingers tighten in his hair and your toes curl. Your legs try to close on instinct, but Geto isn't having it. He removes his fingers from you and plants his palm on your thigh, forcing your legs open as he slurps up the remnants of your high.

He makes a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist before moving up in one smooth motion to kiss you. It's weird tasting yourself on his lips, but definitely not unwelcome, especially when he's pulling away and shoving his soiled fingers in your mouth.

"Suck."

You listen. It's the least you can do after being given the most mind-numbing orgasm of your life. He kisses across your cheek and down your neck as he hastily kicks off his boxers. He's kneeling between your plush thighs, grinding his dick through your sensitive folds. You shutter, the tingling from your high still buzzing in your mind. He loves the way you squirm, knowing he's responsible for your movements.

Your fingers trace up his arms and to his shoulders before dragging down his back. He grunts, hips stuttering at the sensation. He could cum just like this, but that's not what he wants. Not when he's waited so long and you're ready and willing to be so good for him.

He removes himself from your mouth and drags his hand down, giving your neck a quick squeeze before continuing down. He's touching everywhere- your sternum, your breasts, your stomach, and your hips. His hands are rough but his touch is tender, leaving a trail of fire behind.

"Tell me what you want."

You can't respond. His heavy ruts against your cunt had turned more desperate. The overstimulation you were initially feeling from cumming the first time is fading away. The vein on his cock is hitting your clit just right. He's switching between nibbling and sucking on your neck.

"Tell me, or I'll stop."

"C-can't, Sugu, please-"

"You're a big girl. Use your words and tell me what you want."

You move your hands from his sides to his face, pulling his slightly damp forehead down to touch yours. Your nose brushed against his and you steal a chaste kiss. You take a deep breath to settle your nerves a bit.

"I want you to fuck me, please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

Geto pulls his hips back and dips forward, sucking in a sharp breath and slowly inching his cock into your sopping entrance. You moan, your head shooting back into the soft pillows as he bottoms out.

"Fuck,"

So tight, so warm, and so made for his cock. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, forcing you into a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. Your ankles cross behind his head and he rests his forearms beside your head. Your bodies are flush with each other, almost like you were made to fit together like this.

He moves to lift your shirt so it bunches above your tits, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking hard. You clamp down around him, causing him to groan. You barely hear it, too fucked out to distinguish his noises from your own.

He sits up suddenly, slowing his relentless thrusts so he can focus. He grips the fat of your thighs briefly before reaching down, collecting some fluids on his thumb and dragging it across your aching bud.

"Fuck- Suguru-"

Just a few quick swipes and you're barreling over the edge. He grits his teeth when you tense, willing himself to hold out just a little longer. He's waited years for this and he'll be damned if he doesn't make the most of it. Your body is shaking, damn near convulsing, actually, as he continues to brush his calloused thumb over your poor clit.

"Please, Sugu, 's too much, I can't-"

"You can take it, princess, I promise. Just one more for me."

You've never submitted to anyone before. You're bratty on a good day and borderline evil on bad ones. You have a commanding air to you and all the confidence to back it up. Seeing you now, blushing and whimpering beneath him, letting him completely dominate you, is surprising sight, to say the least.

And it's a sight he'll never let go of.

He directs his vision down, marveling at the way you suck him in, how you stretch so well around him. His breathing is even but heavy as he collects himself. He gathers some spit in his mouth and lets it fall to where your bodies meet, instantly blending in with the mix of precum and fluids.

"You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock."

"Take me so well, you know?"

"Such a good girl. So dumb on my dick, makes me proud."

He's keeping his pace slow, snapping his hips forward and touching your cervix each time. You're blubbering, mumbling his name, and a few curses each time he thrusts into you. Your mind is muddy, only focusing on his kind praises and the heat building in your stomach.

"Beg."

"W-what?"

"Beg me to cum in you."

You sputter for a moment, completely caught off guard by his request. His rich purple eyes meet yours. Their somewhat hidden behind his hair, but their dark hue doesn't get lost on you.

When you don't immediately answer, he pinches your clit making you yelp. You sober up a little and bink up him. He smooths his thumb back over to ease the pain, but that look on his face is telling you he'll do it again.

"Please, Suguru, I want you to-"

He quickens his thrusts and rubs fast circles on your clit. He runs his fingers up your body and presses his fingers into the sides of your throat. You cry out for him at the change of pace.

"Try again."

"Fuck! Please cum in me, please, wan' you to fill me up, wanna be yours."

He fucking into you like he's desperate. Muttering your name under his breath and gripping your thigh like he's trying to break you. He's using your neck as a handle, trying to keep your body still as he relentlessly pushes inside your glistening cunt.

Your head is light as you cum around his cock, his tight grip on your windpipe making the waves of your orgasm crash down harder. Your eyelids flitter shut and you just listen to Geto curse as he ruts into you impatiently. He removes his hand from you bud and you basque in the height of your high, no longer having to work through the discomfort of overstimulation.

His now free hand is pawing at your chest, harshly squeezing your mound in his fist. You can feel his movements become less and less patterned right before he stills and he shoots thick ropes of cum into you. It's warm and comforting, the feeling of his cum dripping from your abused cunt.

He finally lets go of you and falls to the side. You inhale sharply, coughing and sputtering as your body finally gets the oxygen you need. You force your eyes to focus as you try to regain at least some of your brain function.

"Sorry, didn't mean to almost kill you."

His words are empty, telling you that he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn't going to hurt you. You laugh a bit and turn your head to look at him. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he's breathing heavily, but he's still looking at you like you're the only thing on his mind.

"Even if you had, I think it would've been a fine death."

"I take it you enjoyed it?"

"That's the understatement of a century."

He laughs and stands up, walking into the bathroom and rustling around before coming back out with a towel.

"Oh, no, Suguru, that's not necessary. I'll just-"

When you try to sit up he pushes you back down.

"I was rough. The least I can do is take care of you, princess."

You twitch when he rubs the fabric over your sensitive bits. He tosses the rag in the general direction of the bathroom and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you into him and glides his fingers through your hair. You rest your face on his chest and rub your hand over his abs.

"So... years, huh?"

"Don't push it. I can still go another round and I'm being nice by giving you a break."

[neoarchipelago]

Being Simon Riley's secretary/help for paperwork cuz that man doesn't give a flying fuck about it and Laswell got tired of it.

BUT...

But Simon gets close to her. So now while she's sitting at his desk, filling reports for him, he's sitting on the chair on the other side of the desk, back towards it as he's leaning back, head on the desk, gossiping.

"and that dumbass rookie thought I didn't know. Can ya believe that?"

"what an idiot" you chuckle as you scribble something.

"right?!"

But the team don't know that. They don't know the extent of this... 'friendship' cuz what is even this to be honest.

Until one day Gaz and Soap storm into Simon's office with Price right behind, tired of their antics and they all freeze.

There on the couch, you sit in a corner with Simon's head on your lap, and a report in your hand. You look at them wide eyed while Simon just keeps rambling.

"but McTavish thought it'd be best to just jump out-"

"I can't believe you're telling her that!!" Soap yells embarrassed.

"see? I told you." Simon simply says.

"hm... I get it now." You simply answer with a nod and you turn back to the report.

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"

So you also gossip with him. He never thought he'd be so interested in what Lisa said about Annie. He can't believe she'd tell Jess about her dating jimmy cuz, what is it even her business-

Simon knows exactly who's fucking who, who's dating out messing around with whom. Knows that sergeant James's wife is entitled and has been using her husband's rank. He'll have to fix that by the way.

You on the other hand know who the barrack bunnies are. The rookie's latest antics against their superiors or even the superior's dirty secrets. (To the limits of classified info on missions)

The thing is, outside of the two of you, you guys are as quiet as a tomb. Not a peep about conversations or gossip. But you always run to each other when something happens. Sometimes text about it in a private chat.

He's like the hawk of the base, watching everything, and you're the little bird, chirping and listening at windows.

So when one day your hear two recruits talk about some money they received in exchange of infos, your focus is caught. You hear as much details as possible glance at the name on their vests, sneak to get more infos from around the base and run to Simon to gossip.

But this time Simon is serious.

"are you sure?" He asks in a tone you rarely hear from him, and never directed at you.

"wha-... Yes, I am... Si-"

"did they saw you?"

"no-"

"heard you? Suspect you? Who else knows? Who did you question?"

"Simon! What's going on?"

"Y/N. Dove. Answer. me." He says, taking a step at every word until you're backed against the desk, forced to almost sit on it and he's leaning over you with both hands on either side of you on the wood surface. So God damn close to you...

You shudder under his gaze and closeness. It ends up creating some kind of immediate response in your brain to snap into submission for him as you answer all his questions in a small voice, eyes never leaving each other's.

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. And when you finally open your mouth to say something he cuts you.

"good girl. Stay here. Lock the door. Close the blinds."

You don't get to question. He's already out the office and you're clueless. Did you do something wrong? Was it out of line? You starts to walk to the door and lock it as you were told. Closing the blinds and then sitting on the couch. You forgot your paperwork on your desk and he'd get furious if you'd step out to go get them. You sigh.

You grab the throw blanket you were glad to have brought into his office. (He'd often nap in there the week after coming back from a mission)

You end up curled on the couch with the blanket, turning to your phone for some mindless scrolling...

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

Ooof, Benedict with a breeding kink? Bestie, thats SO TRUE! If you have more on this, please please please share

Bestie this goes for you nasty <3 - Part of the E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ Series

To be Here

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: +18 topics, very explicit imagery stuff

Notes: More of married life! Solid storyline but with nasty stuff too. I am already making a general Maserlist and this story's ML. Thank you for reading! Who is ready to see Benny baby heartbroken bc of Tilly Arnold? Don't worry, Sophie is coming!!

WC: 5.7K

Taglist: @fallout-girl219 @ravenwtfbro @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @mmmunson

Benedict often thought about how he reached this point in his life. It seemed only yesterday he was a rebel of society's rules, a hedonistic gentleman between the crowd, the funny joke amongst the Bridgertons and the forever seeker of what his siblings were finding.

But now as he took one teaspoon of sugar and dropped it into a tea cup and avoided the milk at all costs he wondered how he got so smitten. He made sure to twirl the spoon with all his energy, he wanted you to drink it and beam at the flavour and as he looked through the window he spotted your curious stroll outside.

Your hair was loose, beautifully curved by the ends and your blue dress with its straight skirt and your short sleeves with a squared neckline made you look so tranquil as he always knew you needed to feel. He snorted however at your insistence; you walked again to the rose bushes and started picking some flowers that fell into a basket by your arm.

He silently stared at your figure as you took more flowers from a corner and then you laid by a blanket spread by the grass and laid the roses over them. You were creating something. The wind was playing with your hair as you moved, Benedict knew that even without a paintbrush he could spend an eternity looking at you.

He saw the way you took the flowers and split the petals, you organized them -by size, he learned- and then you took a small mortar and pestle and started crushing them. His mind went immediately to a few weeks ago, the day when he was painting in his studio and you entered with your smile and giggles telling him you might have dropped some of your pigmented materials in your dress and oh my when he turned... your complete chest was damped in whatever mixture you concocted and the violet water was spreading through your skirt.

He solved it by taking your dress off. It was the most beneficial mistake he could ever think of.

He looked down and "Damn it" the tea grew cold so he took it for himself and made sure to make another one only for you

When he stepped outside he breathed the humid air of Wiltshire and squinted at the sunlight.

“That dim studio of yours is damaging your eyesight” you mumbled not even staring up at him

Benedict smirked and sat in front of you, laying the new tea cup beside you. You were still focused on your flowers but the smell of the chamomile reached your nose.

You looked up and met the clear eyes of the loveliest man on Earth “Hi”

“Hello. Drink now before it gets cold again”

“Again?”

“Never you mind” he gave you the tea cup and waited until you sipped the warm liquid and he felt proud of doing it good for you as you smiled “Good?”

“Yes, thank you”

“What do you get here?”

“Nothing special”

“Tell me”

You shrugged “I never got my hands on any type of cosmetics, and now I want to see if I can do my own”

“Cosmetics?” He smiled seeing your dedication to your cause “You can get cosmetics rather than produce them”

You gave him a stoic face “By now you should know I enjoy mixing things… husband”

Benedict chortled “Forgive me I do know, my alchemist”

“And more with the fact that when I used to go to the Cowpers, me and Cressida took Mrs Cowper’s cosmetics and something smelled bad”

“You mean…?”

“Whatever is in there smelled like lead”

“Oh”

“Or ammonia” you nodded “Should I put it in my face? I believe not”

“I believe not too” he took the mortar and saw the crushed petals “My herbologist wife”

“Shush it” you took it from his hands “How is your paint going?”

“It is” he hummed next and looked at the sky “I wonder who wants a painting of a pond when you have the sky looking like such” Then he turned to see your hair falling to your face and you staring intently at the mixture of petals “or this view as well”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Sir Richard will come tomorrow to take a view at the painting”

“Sir Richard is the one whose daughter is getting married to the man with the weird moustache right?”

Benedict nodded “And I have heard something about that weird moustache man”

"Oh please do tell"

Sipping the tea and enchanting words of upper-class London Benedict you could quite put Lady Whistledown out of business. It was after dinner when you two parted ways for the late night. Benedict often despised the new routine he had after getting married. He felt the pressure of working most of the time with airs of copying Anthony's lifestyle. Oh he knew his brother would love the new him of glorious morning and tedious late-night work.

"At least I am not the first-born" he mumbled as he passed the brush over a missed spot by the corner

Yet, he might not be the firstborn but he sure still holds the Bridgerton name. Why on earth does he feel he must work and work? He does have a fair good amount of money to last through his lifetime and his future children's as well.

"Pffff" he groaned and let his hand drop the brush into the easel he looked around his studio and then up to the clock, 10 pm.

Wherever those nights go when he just stood still by the loveseat in front of the vanity and he watched as you performed such a delicate night routine? Wherever those moments of you naturally letting your gown fall over your naked body?

And now as he stepped surely but slowly inside the room, he now was greeted with your sleeping figure wrapped under the blankets but not his arms. He pouted and walked towards the bed, sitting by the edge and seeing the moonlight falling on your hair. He brushed your locks behind your ear and you shifted a little.

He stared for a while and answered his own question. People request painting of ponds and dogs and wars because they haven't met you yet.

By morning you let your open-mouthed of a husband sleep until he could wake on his own terms and you managed to arrange all the necessary things to host dinner for Sir Richard. You scratched your temple for the thousandth time as Mrs Crabtree explained the dinner service and how a proper nibble can be served during the painting exhibition.

The millionth time you have hosted these events and you still do not like them. You smiled however at the help brought by the Crabtrees and took a glance at the painting Benedict left almost done during the night.

And when noon came and you already taken your usual spot by the garden and started writing in your journal while stealing the newspaper that was laid for Benedict’s eyes.

“Please tell me I didn’t miss breakfast again”

You turned to the side and saw Benedict walking out with only a robe and his hair completely dishevelled.

“If I say no would that help?” You smiled and held a glass of fresh juice for him to drink. He gladly took it and drank until the last drop as he sank to the blanket on the grass.

“I just loathe this. I feel like I am waking up after a party”

You shrugged not knowing the feeling he expressed “How was that?”

“Full of unprocessed Brandy through my veins” he mumbled and saw the tea set by your side. A slight pinch in his chest made him feel so bad “Anyhow” he took your hands and kissed them smelling the rose water from your pores “How are you this morning?”

“Tired”

“Then you should have been with me in bed”

“And leave Mrs Crabtree alone for tonight?”

“I forgot how proper you are” Benedict rolled his eyes and rested his head on your lap and you automatically caressed his scalp. You were reading the paper once again and he tried to read it at your pace but somehow you have started the day with loads of energy compared to him.

“Love,” he said out of nowhere

You removed the newspaper from your sight and looked down “Yes?”

“…Nothing… I’m restless”

“I’m sorry to hear that” you replied and your hands trapped his face and you went down to place a kiss on his forehead

“Keep on”

You chuckled at his response and continued to kiss him all over his face. You loved how he would sigh at each kiss, it was a silent praise.

It was when you reached his lips that any tiredness he was preaching to have disappeared.

He sat down and turned your body towards his. You kept on kissing until he pushed you to the ground and the newspaper was completely forgotten.

“I thought it was me trying to comfort you,” you said

Benedict arched a brow. He might not be tired anymore, he could -oh he could- keep it up until he has you underneath him with your breasts exposed and the tea cup freezing cold by the corner and yet the beautiful smirk you have with your teeth biting your lower lip and the natural beauty of your face made him understand you really wanted to comfort him.

“Forgive me” he smiled and pulled apart “Please carry on”

You saw how he laid on his back and you followed him, your lips met his and a small giggle came from him. He was the most endearing man on Earth as he waited with his blue eyes widely opened.

You kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose and you bit his jawline making him hum.

Then your lips found his once again and this time he deepened the kiss, his tongue met yours and he could have sworn his soul left his body for a moment. Biscuits, tea, and juice. The flavour of this day.

Your “comfort” reached his neck while you kissed his skin, your hands played with the robe and the knots tied together. Whatever you want to do he is yours.

But then he opened his eyes at the absence of your touch and then you were swiftly tugging your dress. Your arms contorted as you expertly removed the buttons from the back and then let your dress fall to your hips.

Benedict was in a trance as his eyes roamed your form. He wondered if he did anything to deserve your touch or your presence at all.

You just smiled, sweetly yet provocatively when you showed your bare chest. No more petty coats, no more rib-breakers, only freedom in this Wiltshire cottage.

“My God” he licked his lips wanting to taste your skin

But you went to the knot and untied it, his robe fell apart and your hands went to his chest, pushing him down and you climbed him.

Your kisses trailed over his torso and he felt himself growing harder.

His eyes went to the heavens above, a sky full of white clouds... No. He can't just stay, he needs to do something. He sat down and his hands travelled down to your hips, his lips went to your breasts and your head went backwards as he sucked on your nipples and he grunted when he was pushed from the latch he had on you.

He gave you a stern look that faded with the force of your own eyes. You silently told him to stay on his back.

“Fine” he murmured to you

Your fingers found the hem of his night breeches, the ones he never wears. You found the thin cotton fabric easy to remove from his lower part and you were greeted quite happily with his arousal.

Benedict was watching attentively your actions and he gulped as you bent down and kissed the tip of his member.

A hiss came from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around him and started moving slowly. The once-dried skin slowly turned into a glistening shade of pink with your spit.

Once, twice, that head of yours bobbed to a perfect lazy rhythm and he was fighting the urge to thrust into your mouth. His hands found the back of your head and tangled themselves in your soft hair.

His grunts filled the air along with the sounds of you sucking him and the wind rustling the leaves and branches of the trees.

"You are so good to me," he said as he moved the stray hair from your face

Your mouth moved up and down and up again and you moaned in response making Benedict sigh in turn. He closed his eyes and you increased the speed. His member touched your palate and went further to the back of your mouth and as you pulled back your tongue tried to lick it further.

Benedict looked down and he had the most beautiful view. His cock disappeared in between your lips and you were so dedicated, the sounds were so wet and the feeling was so hot. He could explode just by looking at it but he couldn't.

How many times you have swallowed his seed? He couldn't count them anymore but he was sure to enjoy every single time too. He relishes the moment his cock pumps inside your mouth and you, loyal to the moment, keep taking his member while your tastebuds tingle at the warm bitter fluid. He loves and admires the movement of your throat when you swallow him and your lips stay most of the time clean.

Today? No, he doesn't need that view. He needs the one that makes him go to heaven and come back. He needs, he craves to see your core contracting with the remains of your orgasm while his seed flows out of you. He requires to see it again and again.

However, while he was picturing such a carnal moment in his mind, your mouth -full of energy- had the upper hand. Your breasts bounced with your fast movements and your mouth kept giving too much spit for you to glide up and down.

Lo-" he grunted as he felt the tensed muscles by his stomach "Y/N-"

You didn't stop and Benedict was quite undone by the blanket that made you feel such pride. You went again and again until it seemed his hands tried to stop you.

It was too late.

Benedict saw how you drank him fully, a small drop landed by your upper lip but apart from that, you did so well and still Benedict after the shock of his release, was not satisfied. Not because of you but because of his lost fantasy of coming inside of you. This day was not starting as he expected and he predicted it would be long before he could change it.

Hours after what happened you two prepared for the arrival of another client. The Crabtress returned from town with a special order; a cake Sir Richard enjoys (according to Violet Bridgerton) and you took your precious jewels and gave a final touch to your appearance. Not having a lady has made things far better in your opinion although your mama still finds it quite "offensive".

"You look splendid" Benedict said as you reached the end of the staircase

"And you look quite handsome" You gave an unconscious brush to his tailcoat and waited for the carriage to arrive

Sir Richard, with unwashed blonde hair and a subtle beard, made himself present in My Cottage. His beige tailcoat made him look so monochromatic and his pale complexion so bland but you have met him a few times to say that he was far better than other clients Benedict has invited for dinner.

"Mr Bridgerton" he happily said and shook hands with Benedict "Good to see you well"

"Sir Richard" Benedict smiled and nodded "It is a pleasure to have you"

"Thank you" his eyes drifted to your side and smiled "Mrs Bridgerton, radiant as always"

"Thank you, Sir Richard. I hope you will enjoy the dinner we have planned"

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it between his own "Just Richard, my Lady. Formalities" he sighed looking at Benedict "Are well forgotten back in London, no?"

With his laughter, the evening began. Still, the image of Benedict as someone who throws a dinner for a client and you by his side seemed out of your mind as if this was too much of a tryout for you both and still, protocols and politeness were still very present.

"Tell me" Sir Richard started "Is it true?"

"I'm afraid not to know what is true, Richard"

"That my future son-in-law has been seen roaming at night through the streets of London?"

Your wine got stuck in your throat, this is what you and Benedict were gossiping about yesterday so you locked eyes with your husband who blinked away with aim of diverting the talk.

"Oh, I wouldn't know Si- Richard"

He turned around and looked at you as he passed the tray of vegetables "What say you, Mrs Bridgerton?"

"Well" you tried to remember what else Benedict had told you "I haven't heard of that"

"Please, it is all over that dubious pamphlet... Mr Alvey spotted lurking around London" he shrugged "I told my daughter about it but she is, well, adamant"

"If I may," you said leaving the tray away "I have seen that pamphlet and is not like Lady Whistledown"

"No, it is not"

"Perhaps we can take whatever source and words are inked there with a grain of salt, can we not? Lady Whistledown has written things that by the end of the week can be verified but this pamphlet I believe has failed to do so"

Sir Richard nodded and brought a string bean to his mouth "Mr. Bridgerton, you got a gem"

"Oh, I know"

"Tell me, do you write?"

Your fork was forgotten on top of your plate as you blinked at the man “I-“

“Forgive me for the questioning. I recently talk with your father and he told me you wrote constantly. Now, I just wonder if you recall your days or you write about different things?”

“I do have many opinions” you admitted and gave a quick glance at Benedict

"And do you have a lot of time to write them down? I Believe so, this house is not yet filled with children, which don’t get me wrong they are lovely but free time can be used otherwise to spread solid sentences. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You tried to smile as your cheek grew hotter with each second that passed and the food was turning colder.

"Indeed" Benedict replied "And what are you trying to suggest, Richard?"

"You could give her a chance, write under the pen name Mrs Bridgerton and we could all know the wife of the second son; the painter. After all, my newspaper is known not for being traditional and I have employed plenty of women and not for cleaning the presses may I add”

"It would be an honour but I do not have the knowledge"

Benedict was first to give a smack with his lips at the absurdity of your comment “Nonsense”

“I mean” you smiled at him “knowledge of writing professionally. Although Eloise once blamed me for being Whistledown and that was a high yet ridiculous compliment, in reality I know nothing of publishing my thoughts”

“you always publish them with me” Benedict smiled lost in how the conversation was directed “and you do it superbly”

Sir Richard -sorry, Richard- laughed loud and strong “There you are. What do you think, Mrs Bridgerton?”

“And write about?”

Richard took his glass of wine and drank, his throat was dry after such a laugh, his cheeks flushed red and he took a minute to reply as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Write about the things no one wants to discuss" he leaned closer to the table, the candles illuminating his face and his green eyes were now focused on you "Facts, stories, good knowledge but also centred in your own opinion and tied to the readers”

You chuckled at the blurriness of his motive “Care to give me an example?”

"There were some household machines people around in London were patenting. Write about it, give your opinion, and ask the readers whether they like it. Would they use them?”

You fastly blinked at the proposition “S-Richard, that is quite an offer. I wonder if you got the right au-“

“I don’t mean to intrude in what seems to be a fruitful talk” Benedict said “But before you downgrade your knowledge which I know surpasses mine. I would say you could start small, no? Just write something simple, no need to be a machine or a new invention. What would you love to write about, darling?"

You sighed and took a sip of wine, thinking for a moment. Then an idea was formed in your mind.

"The importance of a full education for women… I might ask the readers” You looked at Sir Richard “ what do they think about it” you puffed "I'm sorry you said simple" You referred to Benedict "I ju-"

"That word doesn't fit into your vocabulary" your husband smirked

“I enjoy it now. We must talk about logistics. My press is in London and Wiltshire is not Surrey if you know what I mean”

Benedict saw your barely touched dinner and smiled at the man “We ought to but please let us eat something before I faint"

Dinner was a success, the cake was served and a new friend was made. When it was time to leave the men alone inside the art studio you waited by the tea room with your journal on the table. The inked words kept piling up forgotten in each page. If Sir Richard is right, you could be the next Lady Whistledown but then the consequences would be different.

"No such thing" you whispered to yourself

Employment. You laughed. What is this about? A pound per column published? Is it truly worth it when your name is known because you so desperately tried to make your opinion known?

The day already proved to be long and heavy. You waited for the men to finish without any activity to occupy yourself. It would have been different if the guest brought his wife, just like previous meeting you would offer her to talk or play cards if she looked high-spirited.

When you heard the doors creaking open you stood up and put your journal away to join the men. Pleased faces both of them as Benedict took the man's tailcoat by the entrance.

"Ah Mrs Bridgerton. It's been a while since I don't have such a nice evening"

"Thank you, Richard"

"We should have done it before" he looked at Benedict "I should have done this with your father, but oh well. Benedict, we must stay communicated this month and you Mrs Bridgerton I will send you some information this week that will make you change that puzzled look in you"

"I'll receive it gladly"

"Very well. Full stomach, good hosts I will sleep well tonight. Mr Bridgerton, I will see you later"

"You will. Have a good trip back home"

You followed him to the door and bid farewell to the man, his carriage was already outside and he was ready to depart and when he did you sighed long and steady until you saw Benedict's face.

"So?"

He shrugged "He needs a second one, just smaller but he loved it. Quite the mood he was seeking for his office he said"

You smiled and your cheek fell to his warm arm "There you go then"

"Thank you for today, for last night, for everything," he said in a soft voice and placed a kiss on your head

"What a day"

"You go upstairs I will thank the Crabtrees for preparing dinner"

"Uhum" you said mostly dazed and tired, you followed the stairs and turned to walk to the main chamber.

The candles were lit and the bed was made and ready for you to lay down and what a fall you had against the duvet. You exhaled and closed your eyes, feeling the soft fabric caressing your skin. Minutes later your ears took the noise of the door as Benedict's presence. You rolled and saw how fast he took his clothes and landed by your side.

His hand took your hair and caressed it, his blue eyes were fixed on yours.

"I must confess something" he whispered

"What?"

"I am... not content"

You frown and try to prop your head up with your hand "You're unhappy?"

"No, it's not unhappy just not content"

"Isn't that the same?"

"No" He sighed and turned his face to look at the ceiling "I am quite happy with you, with my family, with this place... with you and with you"

"Alright"

"But I..." he scratched his brow "I don't enjoy whatever I built of myself as an adult in terms of my profession" he saw your listening face and continued "It is a good living, it is a good business I can't complain about that. However, I feel off. Not here, not there but most of all not here"

"Not here?"

"Not with you. Fully and I know it's not as if you need my constant presence by your side-"

"Who said that?"

Benedict gently smirked "What I mean is that I must pause this work. We have enough money to last our lifetime..." he paused, his eyes dancing "And... perhaps one kid's lifetime"

"And if we have two?"

"Alright, two kids' lifetime but not for our grandkids"

"Hmmm. Then our kids will have to work" you laughed while Benedict joined you seconds later "I understand what you mean"

"I do will leave money. I will work at some point" he justified

"I don't mind that" you confessed "I know you don't enjoy rushing things and clearly you feel you rushed into this work-for-commission task when you feel you should be here with me"

Benedict's chest tickled in warmness as he heard his thoughts coming from your mouth "My dear, you just get me don't you?"

"You were never difficult to read for me"

He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, his lips kissing yours softly, his nose brushing your cheek, his heart racing. He was not sure what he would do if you were not by his side.

"You know," he said "If you are truly tired I will understand but" his hand pressed your arm and traced down at your waist "I want to be here tonight with you"

"Depends on how you want to be here" you murmured

"Let me tell you" he kissed your hand and then hovered on top of you "Let me show you" he kissed your lips, sweetly and locked eyes with you "I want to find my way in you, in your open hands," he said merging your fingers with his, tightly "and that you feel like a woman only with me" his free hand caressed your breast through the fabric and then his lips took yours "Today and tomorrow and the days after I want to be here. Today I want you" his hand reached for the bottom of your dress and he slowly pushed it upwards, the skin of his legs brushing yours as his knee opened your thighs.

"I want to be here with you," you said between a murmur and a kiss, his weight was on top of you and his eyes were bright in the light, the shadow of the candles making his face look sharper and the blue of his eyes deeper and darker.

Benedict licked his lips and pulled apart only to hastily remove your stockings. He put his arms behind your back as you arched it, his fingers undid the buttons and pushed the sleeves down. He did not wait and grabbed the dress and threw it to the side.

Your breasts tempted to move out of the corset and Benedict exhaled as he removed it and it reminded him again how unnerving these pieces were and how good is to have you not wearing one daily.

"I want to be here, now" he repeated with each kiss he gave you, his tongue tasted you and his hands touched your thighs "I want to quench this thirst" he moved down to your nipples and licked once, licked twice "This thirst of my soul on your lips or-" he gulped seeing the absence of your pantalettes and the readiness of your core

His tongue attacked your folds and licked in slow, steady motions that had you trembling. Your head was buried on the duvet and your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Oh my-Benedict" you moaned as his tongue flicked

Benedict sucked and slurped as he pushed a finger inside and turned up to see your wanton eyes and parted lips "Oh my Y/N" he mimicked and resumed his movements

A second finger joined while the pace was increasing; he sucked your nub and pushed his fingers up. His tongue played with his fingers as they slid in and out and he moaned against you with the real juices only you can produce but he knew he was owing you so many orgasms already. He has not let you set free in his face for almost a week and knowing you, you are counting.

He pulled apart and removed his fingers, his thumb rubbed the sensitive spot while his mouth kissed his way up to your neck.

"Benedict"

He moaned and bit your earlobe "Y/N"

"More"

"I will give it all," he said "I promise"

Swiftly, his wet fingers grabbed his member and he stroked himself before pushing it into your folds.

"I love you" he kissed your lips

"I love you more"

"You're all mine" he thrusted only once "And I am so yours" he pulled back and slammed until you were only one

Your hands were holding his sides as he pounced into you, his hot breath heated your cheek as he groaned and growled with each push. He was so strong and so hard and yet so soft. Your lips brushed and kissed as your walls tightened.

"Oh, dear god" he moaned as his pace slowed down "Are you close?"

"I..." you softly snorted "Is too much" You felt your navel tensing "Almost"

"So fast" he whispered and kissed your bottom lip "I am praised for that" Benedict groaned and pushed in and out, in and out. He could feel the build-up inside his navel and the pressure was too much already.

Wait. He thought. Just make it last a bit more. Be here. Be here.

And he saw you underneath against the olive duvet and how glorified you looked with your pink cheeks and parted lips. With your breasts bouncing with his pace and your nipples getting hard then turning soft. And as he caressed your stomach while slowing the thrusts he knew that to be here meant something else.

Six months after you got married he has wasted time trying to find where he fits but he now sees he has always fit with you -no jest intended- six months and he hasn't had it right until now. He wants to be here and give you his kids. He needs to see you swollen with his child, your breasts filled with milk and oh dear get you aroused looking like that.

Yet first things first. He needs to have what he got denied this morning.

"Benedict"

He groaned with your moans and his thrusts sped up only to become more erratic, his hand went down and massaged your nub and you were doing so good trying not to come fast and that only gave him time to organize his lewd thoughts.

His eyes went to your wrapping folds around him and he imagined the moment his cock will spur his warm white seed inside of you. How good will you take him? Will your contracting walls push his essence deep within you?

He licked his lips and his groans grew louder as the tension was too much and the feeling was almost unbearable.

"I can't" he grunted "Oh no, I can't."

He fell forwards as he hovered and his hips thrust faster making you arch your back at the intense fight between you. He felt how you were welcoming your orgasms and he kept focusing on your open mouth and tensed jaw muscles. He pushed his cock inside. All the way inside, he ordered himself.

He moaned and softly exhaled your name as his stomach became hard with his release. He felt his seed being milked out of him and he stayed there acting as the barrier for his seed not to flow out of you.

His hand dried the sweat around your forehead and his body felt heavy but he couldn't move. Not when he had such a beautiful view. He saw how your breathing started to regulate and your legs stopped shaking. He moved out of you and somehow his eyes took a long glance at your core and how beautifully marked it was with his thick seed coming out of you.

He smiled and looked up at your pretty face "Let us rest" you responded n a soft hum and Benedict enjoyed as you moved inside the linens and how his fluids were still dropping across your inner thighs "Sleep, my love" he whispered

Benedict often thought about how he reached this point in his life. From the boy who was so desperate for freedom to the man who found a purpose. And he has found the explanation. He has reached here thanks to you and how good it feels. How full he feels when he has you near and when he reflects that he is loved by you. To be here, he thinks.

No onelse, nowhere else.

To be here.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!

 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)

We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-

Butter

Self-rising flour

Granulated Sugar

Raisins

A small dried fruit of your choosing

Almonds OR Pecans

EGG

Whole Milk

Heavy Cream

And if you would like for dipping-

Blackberry jam

To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.

I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.

AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense

The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness

Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end

Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal

Somewhat flakey outside

The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes

Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink

Or mead

I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)

Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.

. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why

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So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.

I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.

I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

6 TBSP butter, chilled

2 cups self-rising flour

1 TBSP granulated sugar

½ cup raisins

½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped

Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped

1 egg, well beaten

½ cup whole milk

4 TBSP heavy cream

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 f.

Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.

Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing

In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.

Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.

Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.

Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).

Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.

[sykestarot]

what attracts people to you?

1-2-3 (left to right)

I do not own any of these images

Hi guys I'm back for this weeks reading! Thanks so much for all the love on the other post it really means a lot! I hope these messages resonate as well. Thanks for stopping by yet again! :)

Pile 1

"Just wondering when you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"

(2 of swords (rx); ace of cups; 5 of swords; 4 of swords (rx); queen of pentacles; 2 of cups (rx)) I’m feeling for you pile one that you don’t believe that you’re attractive at all, energetically or physically. Like people would always prefer someone else other than you. Quite literally how the song title is opposite, you believe people are only attracted to the types of people who are opposite of you. Which is so obviously not true because so many people are attracted to you. I don’t know if you think more people value stability over spontaneity. But your cards imply that you are a free spirit and people love that about you. Not only are you a free spirit but you also are hard working. You aren’t one of those people that says they're a free spirit as an excuse to do nothing. I’m feeling that you carry this abundant energy of like “I want it, I got it”. And people just want to stay in that energy. You also have a resilience that people see and it makes them admire you but also want to learn from you. Your energy is truly so beautiful. I see that you might have long hair with beautiful waves to it. Perhaps you’re tan or have a darker complexion. You’re the type of person who loves doing hikes and smelling the fresh air outside. I also see beaches and a boho style to you. Lots of whites and vibrant blues as well. Perhaps you’re Greek or some type of southern European. I see that you also have doe eyes and people find them to be mesmerizing. As well as your smile. I don't know why you don’t think you’re attractive because the vibes I'm getting are that you’re a stunner!! I hope one day you can learn to appreciate the qualities in yourself that others see!  Signs : Athens, Greece, kitties, pasta, the smell of pine orange and vanilla, woven hats, big sunglasses, kites, hang gliders?, laughs, melted ice cream, strawberry scents, lip gloss, glitter, flamingos, Sagittarius

Pile 2

"She's got a halo around her finger around you" (The world; 5 of swords (rx); the high priestess; knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of wands (rx); the hierophant) Pile two you are my pile that knows people are attracted to you and use it to your advantage. Which is so real of you but also so slay. And this is not to say that you use your beauty to gain things in a negative way. It’s more like you know the cards that you were dealt and you’d be damned if you didn't use them. I feel like this is my Scorpio pile. Something about you is mysterious and that entices people to want to get to know you better. I feel like you are like a real life siren. The way you speak or the tone of your voice ensares people and draws them right to you. You also have a fated energy or destiny really plays a role in your life. To the point where people want to be in your life because they think they might be able to get some of whatever you have. You might also be witchy and cast spells or work with guides to make things go your way in life. You co create with spirit for sure. I feel like you guys have a contrasting appearance, like pale skin dark hair, or darker skin and lighter hair. I feel like your eyes are piercing like they are hunting prey and people love feeling like they are hunted by you. I see you being very chiseled whether that’s in the body or the face. You have a striking appearance for sure. The kind that people do double takes on the street. You might get a lot of losers who want to talk to you because your energy and appearance are so intoxicating. I also feel like you’re overall just very bold. Perhaps Aries as well? I also feel like anything said in this reading you already know about yourself lol. Signs : Osprey; Seahawks (football); Megan Fox; vampires; red lisp; metal; silver; motorcycles; the twilight saga?; Jennifer’s Body; clubbing; latex; Washington State; black hair; blue eyes

Pile 3

"I know she's gonna break my heart"

(8 of cups; 7 of wands (rx); page of pentacles; the moon; the hanged man (rx); the lovers) You, my pile three, are the heartbreaker, soul stealer, sad girl pile. People are attracted to you because people want to fix you, not necessarily that you need to be fixed to be honest. It’s more in the sense that you don’t care about them more than you care about yourself. It’s like they want to teach how to love or be the one that changes you. Which to me is so funny because it’s not that you don’t know how to love it’s that you don’t love them lmfao. You don’t entertain many suitors or people in general and so when you do give people your energy it’s special. However with how selective you are it makes people want to know more about your inner world. But you come off so nonchalant that people want to get a reaction out of you. You have the potential to feed people’s hero/savior complex if you actually like them back. I also feel like your sense of style is alternative or goth and that’s also what brings people to you. I’m getting retired emo’s or lil peep/suicide boy fans. Perhaps your taste in music also attracts people. I feel like you’re social media and the way you present yourself really gets people wanting to know you more. You’re very mysterious but I'm getting in more of an Aquarius or Pisces way. I feel like you like having dramatic makeup on or you have a very out there style. I keep seeing, like cyber goth or emo. I’m not super well versed in those genres of style so I hope you get it lol. Maybe you have lip rings or eyebrow piercings. Anyways you’re very unique and that’s what attracts people to you. I also feel like you’re always doing cool and new stuff and people are attracted to you because you’re a trendsetter in a lot of ways. Maybe you have a following on a social media platform? Idk I feel like people watch you via the internet. Signs: anime; jjk; tik tok; silver metals; lip biting; rilakuma; pastel pinks; black; stripes; oversized sweaters; skirts and thigh highs; leg warmers; big chunky shoes; platform boots; johnny guilbert?; music holds importance here

[fxrmuladaydreams]

drunken bets (cs55)

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: carlos makes a bet with a few other drivers, claiming that he can get you, a new (introverted) mclaren employee, to fall for him

notes: what can i say? i love writing driver x mclaren worker apparently 😂 i think it’s because she can be bffs with lando and oscar and that makes me soft. someone had to be the villian/bad influence so i’m sorry drunk pierre/lance. i hope you guys like the “she fell first, he fell harder” trope

next part

The music in the club blasts through the speakers. Drinks are thrown back as warm bodies dance, or more so grind, against each other to the beat.

Carlos feels the buzz from the alcohol coursing through him. He takes drink after drink. He deserves to relax after this race weekend, hangover be damned. He’s approached countless times by girls looking to spend some time with him, all to which he brushes off, choosing to go home alone at the end of the night.

“C’mon man, what’s up?” Lance asks as Carlos sends another breathtaking girl away. “You’re just not in the mood?”

“I don’t think he can do it. I think he needs his “smooth operator” title revoked.” Pierre drunkenly laughs.

Carlos scoffs, pushing Pierre away by his shoulder. “I could get any girl I wanted. Try me.”

Pierre grins and nods. “Alright,” he looks around the club and nods to a blonde at the bar. “How about her?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, that’s too easy. She’s been staring at him all night.”

Pierre points out a few more girls, all of whom have already expressed some kind of interest in the Spanish driver, until an idea pops into his head.

“What about that new McLaren girl?”

Carlos knew who he was talking about almost instantly. You were a newer part of McLaren’s marketing team. While most others from the team could be found creating content with the boys, you tended to keep yourself behind a computer. Lando said you were hired to do things like edit videos or photos, more behind the scenes stuff.

Others had taken an interest in you when you had shown up. A few engineers or pit crew from other teams attempted to get closer with you, all while you turned them down with a quick no. Hell, even Pierre tried to shoot his shot, but you very quickly shut him down.

You tended to stick closer to Lando and Oscar, both boys somehow able to get you to open up to them.

“You mean Y/n? She won’t date anyone.” Lance shrugs.

“Yeah, so I don’t think Mr. Smooth Operator could get her to date him.” Pierre smirks.

“I could.” Carlos is quick to defend. “Easy.”

“Alright then, let’s make this interesting. You get Y/n to have actual romantic feelings for you, and I’ll give you one hundred euros.”

Carlos reaches his hand out for Pierre to shake. “Deal.”

Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache the next morning, the sun streaming in way too bright through his hotel window. He drags himself out of bed and into the shower, attempting to feel a little more like a human before he actually has to go outside and face the world.

He eats a simple breakfast, something that doesn’t make him feel like he’s about to puke his guts all over his plate. Then he finally starts to pack his suitcase for his trip back home.

He checks his phone before pushing it into his pocket. He sees a few message notifications from Pierre and Lance.

From Lance

Insane night last night. I never want to drink again.

From Pierre

I honestly don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember a bet, and I can’t wait to be 100 euros richer

Carlos groans as he remembers the bet he made the previous night. There’s no way they’re going to let this go, they’ll make sure it hangs over his head until the end of time.

A selfish part of him wants to go on with the bet, to prove that even though he’s had some time being single for a while, he’s still a hot ticket item in the dating world. It wouldn’t hurt his image either, he thinks. If he’s seen pursuing and dating someone who isn’t a model it could make him look like he’s matured, like he’s ready to settle down instead of spending his nights in different beds wherever they travel.

From Carlos

I think you mean 100 euros poorer

The next race weekend he makes it a point to hang around the McLaren garage. No one’s surprised to see him there, given his close friendship with Lando, so the striking Ferrari red practically goes unnoticed in the sea of papaya.

He keeps an eye out for you as he sits with Lando, excusing himself when he spots you making your way towards them. You’ve got a set of headphones on over your ears, clearly enthralled by whatever you’ve got playing on the tablet you’re holding.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts walking in your direction, scrolling through whatever social media app he happened to quickly open. He walks until his shoulder bumps into yours, a little too rough, nearly knocking the tablet out of your hands.

Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, and manages to catch the tablet with his other hand.

“Are you alright?” He asks, flashing you a smile.

You nod and take a step back from him. “I’m okay, are you?”

He swipes a hand through his hair, then holds your tablet out for you to take. “I’m good. It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah, I’m at McLaren.” You tilt your head towards the McLaren garage.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs, glancing down at your papaya team kit.

“Right, sorry.” You laugh. “I should probably go, filming and editing to do and what not.”

Carlos gives you a smile and a nod followed by a quick goodbye. He brushes his arm against yours as he walks away. He has to keep himself from looking back at you to see your reaction, but gets a text from Lando later in the day that gives him the satisfaction he was looking for.

From Lando

What did you do to my editor?

The next time Carlos sees you, he recreates your first meeting, bumping into you just so he can wrap his arms around you again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He laughs, holding you.

You laugh with him and shake your head. Your hands rest against his chest from attempting to catch yourself. “We really do.”

He smiles as he lets go of you, but keeps himself planted where he’s standing, giving you his undivided attention.

“I saw the recent McLaren video, it was really good. It kind of makes me wish you worked here when I was with McLaren.” He says tilting his head up teasingly.

“It’s mostly my coworkers, I pretty much just make it look good after it’s filmed.” You tell him, you duck your head down to avoid his gaze.

“Still.” He shrugs.

He’s pulled away by Charles after that, who gives you a quick hello before dragging Carlos back to Ferrari’s garage.

You see Carlos a lot more now around McLaren. You chalk it up to his friendship with Lando, but you begin to notice his seeking you out. He shares meals with you now, even if he ends up sitting with you while you’re focus is locked on your laptop.

Carlos is surprised to find that he’s started to genuinely enjoy your company, that he actually looks forward to seeing you every race weekend. He shakes away the feeling that blossoms in his chest whenever he sees you, afraid of becoming too attached.

That all flies out the window when he’s headed back to his hotel one day though. Dark clouds covered the sky, turning it almost black as rain poured down. You could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, likely headed towards the track.

Carlos sees you standing under the awning of McLaren hospitality, looking up at the sky. You’ve got your phone in your hand and a disgruntled look on your face.

He lifts his bright red umbrella up over his head and dashes over to the McLaren building. He puts his umbrella back down once he’s standing next to you, shaking the drops of water off.

“Did you forget an umbrella?” He asks.

You turn away from your phone to look up at him. He’s got a teasing smile on his face. The humidity in the air has made his hair impossibly fluffier, but somehow still picture perfect. He’s bundled up in a Ferrari windbreaker, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. And I walked here from the hotel today, so I can either try to get a taxi or I can wait until the weather clears up.” Just as you finish explaining your problem thunder booms above you.

Carlos shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I’m not letting you walk out in this.” He gestures to the sky.

“Well the other option is find a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you.” He says it as if it’s an obvious solution. Before you can respond he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him so that you’re both under his umbrella, then starts walking towards the parking lot.

You try to keep up with his pace, occasionally bumping into him, but he makes sure to hold the umbrella over the both of you. He leads you to his car, and holds the umbrella over you as you climb into the passenger side.

You notice how water clings to his hair, drops falling down his coat on his right side, evidence of him prioritizing keeping you dry over himself.

“Carlos, you could get sick, and it’d be my fault.” You scold him.

He shrugs and gives you a smile. “Then you’ll just have to nurse me back to health.”

He parks at the entrance to the hotel McLaren had booked, and walks you into the building. When you expect him to leave, he places a hand on your lower back guiding you to the elevator. He walks you all the way to your door, and leaves you with a “goodnight” and a soft squeeze of your hand.

You get a text from him later that night.

From Carlos

Lando gave me your number. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?

From Y/n

You don’t have to, that’s okay

From Carlos

That’s not an answer cariño

You feel yourself start to smile at the message on your screen and text him what time you usually leave.

He picks you up the next morning, driving you to the track with him. You make conversation about little things like how you slept and what you had for breakfast. He’s quick to run over to your side of the car to open the door for you, and keeps himself close to you as you enter the paddock.

He meets you at the end of the day as well to drive you back to the hotel. He keeps up this new routine each race weekend following. He enjoys your company, and you seem to enjoy his. After a few weekends you could say you have a new chauffeur in the form of a Ferrari driver.

With this new closeness to Carlos comes a wave of media attention you should have expected. Photos are posted over social media of the two of you walking together, you looking up at Carlos with bright eyes, or him looking down at you with his doe eyes.

It’s easy to tell that all of the new attention makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t want to lose your friendship with Carlos so you stick it out. You’re grateful when you see a clip of an interview with Carlos where he’s asked about you, and he sets the record straight.

“There’s nothing going on, we just like to hang out together. We’re just friends.” He smiles.

Although you’re glad he’s put an end to the speculation, you can’t help but feel like your recent hangouts have been only barely platonic. After the nights you’ve claimed are “movie nights” that have turned into falling asleep in each other’s arms, it’s hard to put a platonic label on your relationship.

The first time it happens, it’s you who wakes up first. His chest is warm beneath your head, and his arms lock you against his body. You tilt your head up to look at him. His hair is unkempt, yet still looks effortlessly good. You reach up and brush a few strands away from his face. You watch him for a few minutes, wondering how you were so lucky to be spending your time with someone so beautiful. You rest your head back on his chest and let sleep wash over you again, listening to the soft beats of his heart.

Carlos wakes up not long after you’ve gone back to sleep, lifting an arm to run a hand through his hair. He can feel the little puffs of air from your breathing against his chest, his heart melts when you subconsciously nuzzle your face deeper into him to get more comfortable. You look so sweet, so soft, and a part of him hates himself for it. He let himself accept that stupid bet, and he let himself fall for you. He wishes he’d never let his friends talk him into making that bet, but he also decides he’d never trade the time he’s spent with you for anything.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you slowly lift yourself up off of him. He misses your warmth as soon as he can’t feel it anymore.

The two of you continue spending your evenings together, wanting nothing more than to keep falling asleep wrapped up in one another.

He finds himself searching for you in the crowd at parties and events, even those he knows you won’t be at, just so he can spend more time with you. He texts you everyday you’re apart to make sure that you’ve eaten and gotten enough sleep.

Carlos can’t bear the thought of being away from you for more than a week between races. He casually mentions that he’s going back to Spain for the small break, and asks if you want to join him.

You laugh and scoff shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, it could be fun. You could relax a little bit. I could take you on my boat. C’mon.” He persuades you.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time off.”

“You’re not. I want you there, I promise. Please?” He takes your hands in his, swinging them back and forth. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes and bats his eyelashes at you.

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” You sigh, but can’t stop the smile from spreading over your face.

It’s different, sharing a space with Carlos outside of the four-walled hotel rooms you’ve stayed in for work. It feels intimate being with him in his home country. He books a private villa to stay in on the beach.

The trip quickly feels more romantic than friendly, what with him cooking your dinner for you, and your evenings in either the hot tub or curled up together on the couch.

You spend your days with Carlos on his boat. You reading a book you brought with you, and Carlos laying out in the sun to tan.

It’s hard not to stare at him, his tanned toned chest on display, while his swim trunks hang low on his hips. He has just as much trouble keeping his eyes away from you as well, he can’t help but watch you as you scamper around the boat in a different little bikini everyday.

Occasionally he convinces you to hop in the water with him, to which you reluctantly agree. You keep your arms locked around him when you feel something brush against your leg in the water. Carlos keeps a firm hold on your waist as he can’t stop laughing at your distress.

Eventually you get back on his boat and sit side by side on the edge, with your feet dangling in the water. You stare down at the crystal blue sea, looking for any creatures swimming around.

Carlos looks back out to the shore. The smile that’s been plastered on his face for the last few days falls when he sees a figure on the beach. They’re far enough away that he can’t really tell who it is, but close enough that he can see the camera in their hands.

He leans back and grabs a towel, laying it over your shoulders, covering up the skin you had on display. He wraps a protective arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, in hopes that the photos he knows will be everywhere in a few days won’t be clear enough to reveal you in them.

That night he decides to cook on the boat, which turns out to be a little more chaotic than he’d originally planned. He struggles to keep everything straight, but finds it all worth it in the end when he gets to see you surrounded by the sunset. You look breathtaking, looking out into the sea. The soft breezes wisps your hair away from your face. The sinking sun casts a gold light to wash over you.

He wants to tell you how he feels, but he knows he needs to come clean. Maybe you’ll forgive him, he hopes you will. He needs to put this in the past so that he can love you publicly and wholeheartedly.

You quietly share your meal, then break the silence simultaneously.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Carlos-”

“You first.” He nods.

You take a deep breath. “Carlos, I want to thank you for bringing me here, and really for spending all this time with me. I’m glad you bumped into me at the paddock because I’ve gained a new friend from it. You’re one of the best men I know, and I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

“Thank you.” He feels his chest tighten at your words.

“The truth is, I’ve come to care about you a lot more than I thought I would. A few of the other drivers tried to ask me out when I was first hired, but I told them no. I was happy when you didn’t try to make a move on me, and instead wanted to pursue a friendship with me.” You look down at your hands, and fiddle with your fingers. “But if you did try to make a move on me now… I don’t think I’d mind it…” Your last sentence comes out quieter than the others.

“Really?” Carlos asks, a soft smile growing on his face.

You clear your throat. “What were you going to say?”

He can’t tell you now. He can’t poison this perfect moment, after you’ve confessed your feelings to him.

“I was going to say that I feel the same way.”

[reiding-writing]

Ok hear me out read is an art professor and she invites the team to come to a showcase she planned for her student and the whole night is filled with her and her student laughing with each other and her fawning over her students and Spencer is in awe at the relationships she’s built while teaching

(Sorry for the long ask🤍)

favours [ s.r ]

Summary:

You’re in the final preparations for your students’ art exhibition, all you need now is as many people to attend as possible, leading you straight to your fellow professor and major mild work crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, to ask him for a personal favour.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: professor!spencer x fem!professor!reader

genre: fluff, two pining idiots in love

wc: 3.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: did i hyperfixate on this request bc it was so damn cute and proceed to write the whole thing in one sitting instead of over multiple days like i usually would? yes, yes i did.

thank you for requesting <33 the idea that someone genuinely thinks my writing is good enough to specifically want to read more of it makes me cry happy tears inside

Three days.

Three days until your class’ art exhibition, scouted by some of the most profound Art Directors in the country.

It was incredibly important, and you were pulling every string you could to make sure that your students got the absolute best results from it.

You’d asked almost everyone you knew to be in attendance, hoping that the more people who attended the exhibition, the more likely the scouts were to pick up your students from the amount of attention their pieces were getting.

That’s what lead you here. Stood outside of Dr. Spencer Reid’s office.

You had always been fascinated with his roots as an FBI Agent, not to mention his overwhelming intelligence in every subject you could possibly think of.

You can vividly recall the first time you met almost a year ago, and how he talked your ear off for almost an hour about the intricacies of the print of Monet’s ‘Woman with a parasol’ hung up in your office.

How it was actually a painting of Monet’s wife and son that he’d painted to capture one sunny and slightly windy day that they’d spent as a family.

How Monet helped create the genre of impressionism paintings through his works in the early 1860’s.

How oil paints were, and continue to be, some of the most widely used mediums due to its sheer versatility, and how easy its materials were to find.

And you explicitly remember how you questioned how this man wasn’t at all educated in the fine arts despite knowing so much about it.

You give three short knocks on Spencer’s office door, praying that he wasn’t currently in a lecture or busy with something else.

“Come in,” You give an internal sigh of relief at his voice on the other side of the door, pushing it open and peeking your head inside first before entering and closing the door behind you,

“Oh,” Spencer blinked up at you as you entered, clearly not having expected it to be you, but his expression showing that he wasn’t disappointed that it was you either. “Are you alright?”

“I need a favour,” You cut straight to the point as you walk across his office, noting the copy of Vincent Van Gogh’s biography on his desk as you pull out the chair on it’s opposite side, it definitely not being something he’d usually read on his breaks.

That’s something you’d remembered about him. As much as Spencer Reid could talk for hours on practically any subject you could possibly think of, he was not one for small talk.

Spencer raised an eyebrow at you slightly. “A favour?”

You nod with a slightly pleading expression, silently begging him to accept before you even ask him the question. “So my students have their final exhibition this Saturday and it’s being scouted by some really important people and I really want it to go perfectly for them so I’m trying to rally as many people to attend as possible because popularity means attention and attention means a higher likelihood of getting scouted-”

You fall into a ramble of a tangent, only stopping when you’d physically couldn’t keep going due to a lack of oxygen, taking a sharp breath in through your nose.

“Long story short, I am practically begging you to come. You can bring anybody you want, you can bring everybody you know if you want to.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes desperately pleading with him to humour you. “I just really want this to go well,”

Spencer almost melted at your expression. You were clearly very passionate about your students and their futures and the expression on your face made any resolve for him spending his Saturday night curled up in his study like he usually would fly straight out of the window. “What time should I be there?”

Your shoulder’s visibly relax at his question, and you reach a hand across his desk to grasp at his, giving it a small squeeze. “Oh my god thank you you have no idea to much this means to me,”

Spencer mourns the loss of your hand on his as soon as you pull it back into your lap.

“The exhibition starts at six, but I want to give my class a test run of what the experience will be like before they’re actually bombarded so could I ask you to be there for around five-thirty?”

“Five-thirty is perfect,” His tone matches his expression, soft, pure, and completely willing to help you out with whatever you ask of him.

“I really owe you one for this, thank you so much Dr. Reid,” You sing Spencer’s praises in your head as you stand, clasping your hands together as you make a mental reminder to pay him back later.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re down bad huh?”

He’d expected Morgan’s teasing, but that didn’t mean that his cheeks didn’t flush red at the comment. “She’s just a friend Morgan,”

“Just a friend my ass,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t that new episode of Doctor Who come out tomorrow, at six o’clock? You know, the one you’v e been raving about for the last two weeks about not wanting to miss?”

He couldn’t really deny deny that. He had been going on about wanting to watch that new episode, and how he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Yet here he was, declaring to the team that he was going to be spending his Saturday evening at a university art exhibition instead.“I can record it and watch it when I get home,”

“Mhm, sureee lover,” Spencer rolled his eyes with a small sigh at Morgan’s tone, beginning to regret his request for the team to accompany him. “Are you going to come or not?”

“Oh I’ll be there alright,” Morgan gave Spencer a sharp pat on the shoulder as he vacated to the kitchenette, and Spencer glanced towards JJ and Emily who both served him a short nod and knowing glances.

He was doing this for you. He could endure some teasing from his team. It’d be fine.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He noticed you before you noticed him, kneeling on the floor behind one of your students pieces to adjust the angle of the standing light so it would best show off the painting’s vibrant colours. You’d always had an eye for details like that.

He didn’t notice the unconscious smile that breached his features as his eyes landed on you, but Morgan definitely did.

“Ooh, look at you all blushing and smiling,” Morgan elbowed Spencer in the side lightly, to which Spencer cleared his throat and subconsciously adjusted his shirt collar, straightening his features out once more. “Shut up Morgan…”

“It’s the pretty lady with the skirt right?” Garcia leaned up on her toes to look over Spencer’s shoulder as you got up from your kneeling position, floor length skirt swaying loosely with your movement as you walked around the canvas to see if the change in lighting had made a difference.

Spencer had to consciously suppress a sigh. Maybe bringing the team here to witness him silently fawn over you was not the best idea. “Yes, she’s- the one with the skirt,”

He rubbed that palm of his hand down his face, turning to the group. “Stay here, i’ll be back in a minute,”

He gave them a glance as he made his way over to you, silently warning them to behave themselves like they were a group of children in a sweet shop.

“Hey,”

You turn on your heels at the sound of Spencer’s voice, your skirt twirling with you as your eyes first land on Spencer’s chest before looking up towards his face. “You’re here, oh thank god,”

You take his arm and pull him to stand beside you, turning his body to look at the canvas. “Do you think the lighting is right? Or is it still too shadowed on the bottom right hand corner?”

Spencer’s mind goes completely blank as you physically move him to where you want him to be, caught up on the warmth of your hand on his arm rather than your question. “It uh…”

He takes a second to recompose himself as he stares at the canvas in front of him, an array of vibrant coloured dots arranged in the vague silhouette of an autumnal park. “It looks perfect to me,”

Your nod indicates he gave the right answer. “Good, okay, that’s good,” You tap your hand against his arm for a second, biting the inside of your cheek as you analyse it for a few moments more.

“I uh- brought some friends with me-” Spencer nods towards the team with his head. “Well- they’re technically my co-workers but i’d still say they’re friends-”

Your eyes follow Spencer’s nod towards the six people gathered by the entrance, greeted immediately by a wave of smiles, and you mirror them with your own as you look back at Spencer again. “You are a literal god among men,”

You give his arm a squeeze before breaking into a half jog towards his team to introduce yourself, leaving Spencer to follow you with his eyes as he tried to hide the blush covering his cheeks.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope i’m not interrupting too much of your Saturday night,” You won’t lie and say you’re not nervous to meet them, especially considering Spencer had mentioned the group being his co-workers and therefore FBI Agents, but you keep a positive expression on your face nonetheless.

“Oh don’t be silly, this is probably the most exciting Saturday night any of us have had in a while,” The petite blonde woman at the front of the group waves off your concern with a small laugh, one that you mirror with a small sigh of relief.

A few short introductions later, you send the group on their own personal missions, each set with a printed out sheet of paper containing various questions about the art pieces to ask your students, hoping to prepare them for the inevitable onslaught they would endure when the exhibit opened in 18 minutes.

18 minutes.

The glance at the clock hung on the wall reminds you of your time constraint as you eye the hall for any of your students in need of help.

Sure enough you find yourself repositioning a line of clay pottery whilst one of your students adjusts the small carpet under column they’re perched on to make sure they don’t fall off balance and accidentally shatter before the doors open, caught in pleasant conversation as you explain the best way for the glazing to gloss in the light.

“You really are down bad aren’t you?” Morgan’s voice interrupted Spencer’s unapologetic staring in your direction, and he sighs as he turned to give Morgan a pointed glare.

“Oh come on Reid, it’s so obvious,” Spencer has half the mind to stuff the sheet of paper in his hand in Morgan’s mouth to get him to stop talking.

“She likes you too you know,” Both Morgan and Spencer turn in tandem towards the new voice, one of your students who’d incidentally overheard the conversation as he focused on hanging up a black backdrop behind his full-body sculpture. “She talks about you in class all the time,”

Spencer’s cheeks automatically blush a dark shade of red at the revelation, not at all helped by the muffled chuckles coming from Morgan. “She’s sketched you a bunch too, she uses them as examples in our realism classes,”

Spencer thinks he might implode in this moment. You’ve talked about him in your classes? You’ve drawn him and shown them in your classes?

“Apparently your hair is perfect and she really likes the shape of your nose,” The student shrugs, only half invested in his own explanation as he staples the black fabric to the wall.

Spencer subconsciously brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose, tracing his fingers down it as he imagines what else you might’ve said without him knowing.

“Ooh, looks like the lover boy’s got a chance,” Spencer nearly does stuff his paper in Morgan’s mouth at that statement, pushing his arm as he shook his head, only causing Morgan to laugh further.

“Five minutes guys! Pack everything that you’re not using away! Remember, your art is your baby, treat it like it’s the most important thing to ever exist, and don’t forget to compliment your own abilities!”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You’ve really got your whole heart in this haven’t you?” Spencer catches you mildly off guard as you lovingly watch your students promote their art pieces to the viewers of the exhibition from afar.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle softly at the question, turning your head slightly to look at him standing next to you. “I find no greater achievement in life that watching aspiring artists take their shot. Especially if i’m the one who’s had the pleasure of guiding them.”

“It’s really sweet of you to put so much of yourself into helping your students, i’m sure they’re all really appreciative,” Spencer could read the love you had for your students all over your face, and it only served to drown him deeper in his adoration for you.

To see someone put so much time, so much effort, so much love, into something that they ultimately had no benefit in was really admirable, and it was one of the things that he’d come to adore about your character.

It wasn’t just the fact that your hair shone in the overhead lighting, or the fact that you smiled like an angel sent down from the heavens. It wasn’t the lingering touches between you when you’d spend time together or the fact that you’d gone out of your way to read one of his favourite books during your lunch breaks so that you’d have something to talk about.

It was just you. You as a person. Even your flaws were flawless and he couldn’t understand how it was physically possible for someone to be so… perfect.

“Do you really like the shape of my nose?” The comfortable silence between you is broken by Spencer’s question, the words falling out of his mouth before he has time to think them over.

“Wh- I-” You immediately fall into a state of mild panic, your features flushed and your eyes darting around the hall as you attempt to maintain your composure. “How did- Who told you that?”

“I uh…” Spencer mirrors you in his flusteredness, internally punching himself for allowing the question to leave his mouth. “One of your students did… With the sculpture-”

He half-points in the direction of the full-body sculpture, a small semi-circle of people surrounding it as they examine the art and talk to your student about it, and you purse your lips as you make a mental promise to yourself to out the plethora of sketches he’d made of his classmate at his graduation as payback.

“You- have a very drawable face,” You nod exaggeratedly as if it was going to get you out of the conversation, although Spencer’s apparent obliviousness rendered that strategy useless.

“..Drawable?” His eyebrows furrowed slightly, leaving small wrinkles above the bridge of his nose and casting his eyelids in a small shadow that you would die to take a picture of and recreate in charcoal.

“Uh, yeah, drawable, you’re an easy person to draw,” You shrug slightly, trying to offset your awkwardness as nonchalance, as if you drawing Spencer whilst he was bent over a book in the lunch room was a totally normal thing for anyone to do. “You’ve got nice facial features…”

You will yourself to stop talking because you know if you continue you’ll end up saying something that throws you right in the deep end and you’ll never mentally recover.

“Oh-” Spencer’s face flushes further if that’s even possible, a beautiful rose colour painting his cheeks that would make an absolutely perfect art piece. “Thank you-”

“No problem-” The two of you fall into a slightly awkward silence after that, and you find momentary solace in watching one of your students fall into what seems like an enrapturing conversation with one of the scouting directors about the nature of her painting.

“Hey uh- Dr. Reid,” You tear your eyes away from the exhibition and back towards Spencer again, surrendering to the inevitability of you having to push your way through the awkwardness between you if you wanted to continue your conversation with him. Which you did. Very much. “I’m uh- sorry if I made you uncomfortable by sketching you without your permission, that wasn’t my intention at all,”

“Oh- no it’s completely fine-” Spencer waved a hand in front of him as if to wave away all of your worries. “It’s really flattering actually,”

His sentence was joined by a small laugh as he raked his fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, the curls covering the inside of your most prized sketchpad. “And you don’t have to call me Dr. Reid all the time, Spencer is perfectly fine,”

He offered you a soft smile that made your heart flutter, and you find yourself only capable of responding with a nod, unable to form a coherent string of words in your head.

“Maybe you can show me them some time,”

You blink up at him for a second before you realise he’s talking about the sketches. “Oh, uh, they’re not very good-”

“I’ve seen some of your pieces, you’re incredible,” Spencer shakes his head at your assessment of your drawings. “’Don’t forget to compliment your own abilities’, it’d be a little hypocritical to tell your students that and then downplay your own don’t you think?”

You mentally curse his judgement as you’re reminded of his eidetic memory, something you’d found entirely fascinating when he’d first explained it to you.

“That’s not fair-” You let out a small laugh of exasperation, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Spencer smiles at your internal panic, and he decides now is a good of a time as ever to just make the leap. He liked you, and he was fairly certain that you liked him too.

“Do you remember saying you ‘owe me one’ a few days ago when you first asked me to attend the exhibit? If you show me your sketches we can call it even,” Spencer’s eyes trailed over every one of your features as your micro-expressions changed whilst you deliberated the question.

“And whilst we’re at it, maybe we can- go and get coffee together or something…” Spencer tried to ignore the pounding of his heart against his chest as he extended his proposal, and your eyes immediately flicker up to his as he finishes speaking.

“Like- a date?”

“If you’d like it to be…” The two of you were both horribly flustered by now, both of you practically radiating your emotions for each other.

“I- Yeah… I’d like that,” You smile that gorgeous, perfect smile up at him and he swears his heart melts into a puddle at the sight.

“Perfect..”

Thank god for mutual favours.

[mothwingwritings]

Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh Sleeping Headcanons 🌙💤🛌

Hello everyone! In between fics I have been working on some headcanons, like this one, for your reading pleasure. :) It's some bedtime/sleeping arrangement scenarios feat. you and our favorite murderous companions. <3 It’s dedicated to all the sleepy individuals out there that just want to hit the hay and snooze the day away-I feel you and you are valid. Also there is a bonus plushie headcanon for each character because why not! If you don’t have at least stuffed creature on your bed, this is your sign to love yourself. Go acquire a friend and snuggle up with him, I demand it. ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DUE TO THE NATURE OF THESE HEADCANONS AND THE SOURCE MATERIAL, 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Warnings: abuse/abusive relationships, noncon/dubcon, forced cuddling, forced interaction, forced relationships, implied kidnapping, being held against your will, reader is threatened and hurt, mentions of/implied sex, very lightly edited.

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Ren/Fox🦊

·         Exceptionally clingy when he sleeps. Honestly like a suction cup. Regardless of if he’s the little or big spoon, he’ll be latched to you the whole night. Wiggle and complain as much as you like, he’s not relinquishing his hold.

·         Even if you two are just taking a little nap together, he always has to have some kind of skin contact with you. Holding hands, cuddling, a limb draped over you, something.  He needs the reminder that you are there and that you aren’t going anywhere, he can’t sleep peacefully without it.

·         He’s warm. Too warm, really. Uncomfortably warm. In winter this poses no problem, but during the summer it’s nearly unbearable. You need to crank the AC to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of sweat, but the added cold only makes him cling to you tighter, increasing the heat. He doesn’t seem to mind the warmth at all and takes offense if you try and voice your irritation, giving you an earful (if not worse) over how you need to be more grateful for the affection he douses you with, warning that if you don’t watch yourself, next time it snows you’ll be camping outside with nothing but the clothes on your back. We’ll see how much you miss his warmth then.

·         He’s a night owl, but he also somehow always wakes up before you do. It’s not uncommon for you to be awoken by an eager beastkin shoving a homemade breakfast in your face, excited to start his day with his love by sharing breakfast in bed with you and watching anime. <3

·         Though sometimes he gets a little too excited in the morning, and if that’s the case you’ll be waking up to a very handsy man pawing at you, kissing any and every place his lips can reach, pressing himself against you so you can feel just how excited he is. It’s a good thing you are in bed because by the time he’s done you’ll be so worn out you’ll need some more rest. ^^;

·         Also, he is an avid fan of plushies. If you also collect them your bed is going to be 90% plushies and he is 100% going to use that as an excuse to be squeezed on the bed with you as close as physically possible so as you all can have room. None of them are allowed on the floor, no man is left behind, and he’ll make sure you all fit whether it is comfortable or not.

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Lawrence🌿

·         Lawrence is the exact opposite of Ren when it comes to contact. Though he may fall asleep with you in his arms (or vice versa), he very quickly grows uncomfortable with the prolonged contact, his body used to being the sole person in his bed. Very shortly after he falls asleep, he will unconsciously push you away to try and create distance. No matter how much he may yearn for your contact in his waking hours, he has no control over his subconscious actions. Often times the shoving is much rougher than it needs to be, abruptly (and painfully) waking you up in the process.

·         However, this does not deter him from making you sleep with him. Even if he ends up damn near shoving you off the bed, he wants you to be close to him for as long as and as much as possible.

·         Lawrence is basically nocturnal, and even if you are also a night owl there are bound to be some times when your sleep schedules don’t fall in line with each other. He gets a little excited when you fall asleep when he is awake, taking pleasure in watching you as you slumber. The way you lay near him, completely unguarded and quiet, only the slow rise and fall of your chest denoting that you are alive at all… It does something for him. More than once you’ve woken up to him standing over you, face flushed and tears in his eyes as he’s pumping his dick to the sight of your passed out form. If you wake before he can finish himself, he’s gonna use you to complete the job.

·         In fact, he just likes to stare at you while you sleep in general. He doesn’t have to feel anxious or worried of how you may perceive his gawking if you aren’t aware it’s happening to begin with. It’s a nice chance to really take in and appreciate your beauty without facing any backlash, and it comforts him to know you trust him enough to fall that deeply into slumber in his presence.

·         Doesn’t really get the point of plushies and never really had a strong attachment to stuffed animals as a child, so he doesn’t have any of his own and has no desire to own any. He thinks it’s cute that you like them though, and won’t deny you if you want to take one or two to bed with you. If you gift him one, he’ll be flustered but thankful, hugging it when he is unable to hug you. The little friend is a perfect cuddle buddy for when your sleep schedules don’t align and he doesn’t want to disturb you once you have fallen asleep.

·         Just be mindful that if he gets agitated or you piss him off, he’ll definitely destroy your beloved stuffies, tearing them to shreds with either his bare hands or any of the gardening  tools he has lying around. He’ll instantly feel bad if you begin to cry over it, but at that point it’s too late. It’s best to stop the tears before he turns the assault towards you.

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Strade🔪

·         Strade is all over the place when he sleeps. It doesn’t matter how big the bed is or how little space you take up in it, his presence is unavoidable. You can try and create as much distance as physically possible, scrunching yourself up in a corner in hopes that he doesn’t come in contact with you, and you’ll still end up with him sprawled all over you come morning.

·         He’s also loud. Snoring, grunting, talking in his sleep, he’s so noisy it’s a wonder you can get any sleep at all. You get used to it after a while (you don’t have a choice), but each time he nudges you in his sleep or wakes you up with a particularly loud snore, it’s all just another unpleasant reminder you are stuck with him, unable to find tranquility even in your dreams.

·         He has a tendency to latch on to and keep a close hold of whatever is closest to him while he sleeps. The moment he looks even slightly drowsy you try and stay away from him, not thrilled with the prospect of being smashed up against him for hours on end while he’s pleasantly off in dreamland. Were it anyone else or any other situation, you may find the clinginess endearing, but with Strade it’s just extremely uncomfortable and confusing. You spend the whole time unsure if you want him to wake up and let you go (and thus have to deal with an alert and active monster) or if you want to remain silent and just put up with it, thankful for the rare moment of peace.

·         He sleeps the best after successfully finding and securing a new victim, the gusto and energy that he puts towards spending time with his new ‘friend’ leaves him completely spent by the end of the day. A tired Strade is usually a good thing for you-if he’s worn out, he’s less likely to bother or hurt you. However the opposite is also true, if he hasn’t been able to blow off steam in a while he’ll grow antsy and restless, and he’s bound to make his lack of sleep and overall disgruntlement your problem. Regardless, you won’t get much sleep either way, as you find no contentment in either situation.

·         Though they aren’t really his thing, he is amused by your plushies. While he can see the appeal of them, the only real interest he takes in them is how you react to them. Which ones are your favorite, do you favor one character or animal over another, do you prefer the big and fluffy or small and squishy? Most importantly though, he wants to know how deeply your fondness for them extends and how/if he can use that as a persuasive tool against you in the future. Should they prove to be a promising means of coercion, prepare for quite a few new plush friends to keep you company in the future. :)

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Celia👩‍💼

·         She’s an early riser. Not necessarily because she wants to so much as it’s engrained in her from years of putting in overtime at her corporate job. If you try and pull her back into bed she’ll gripe at you, but is secretly happy that you are willingly making yourself a scapegoat for her laziness. Though on days she absolutely has to get up early, you best be getting up right alongside her to help her get ready for the day or you will be deeply regretting it. She always takes precedence, you can sleep more when she leaves.

·         She’s on edge most of the time and is overall a very light sleeper. If you snore or toss and turn too much, she’ll get pissed off and roughly shove you awake, grumbling obscenities while complaining about how annoying you are being. If she can’t sleep, she certainly isn’t going to let you sleep either.

·         Even if you aren’t a noisy or restless sleeper, she’ll still find constant things to gripe about regarding your sleeping arrangement. Either you take up too much room, or you are encroaching on her personal space, or you have some other sleeping habit she finds grating that you have no control over because you are unconscious when you do it. She doesn’t ever seem overly pleased to share sleeping space with you, and you often wonder why she doesn’t just banish you to the couch or some other place to get your rest.

·         And yet, she never does make you sleep elsewhere.  In fact, it only makes her MORE pissed off if you suggest it, taking it as a personal offense that you don’t want to spend time with her. She won’t admit it to you, but the act of sleeping near someone she doesn’t positively loathe or who isn’t trying to use her in some way is one of the few things that really brings her peace. Even if it’s against your will, having you in bed with her soothes her. It’s honestly the best sleep she has had in ages.

·         She’s not a huge cuddler, but she does like physical confirmation that you are near. Often times she’ll reach out in the night to grab your hand or drape her arm across your body, never smothering, but just enough contact to assure that you are still by her side.

·         She staunchly refuses to have any stuffed animals in her bed, telling you she finds them childish and stupid (whether she actually feels this way or is just pissed you are trying to bring things into her bed that take up even more space is debatable). If she finds any plushies you are hiding she will most likely throw them away on sight. You may be able to get away with a little one, but that’s only if she doesn’t find it or is feeling extremely benevolent.

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Derek🦂

·         The only time Derek shows any kind of ‘affection’ is when he sleeps. Like Strade, he likes to secure himself to things while he slumbers, and if he doesn’t fall asleep with an item (you) already in his arms at some point in the night, he will subconsciously grab onto something (also you) and not relent until he wakes the next morning.

·         The way he clings to you can almost be considered sweet. Wrapping his arms around you securely, burying his face into your chest or the crux of your neck as he snuggles up against you as close as physically possible, it makes you momentarily forget what a monster the man beside you actually is. It’s almost as if he’s a child huddled up close to a parent, seeking comfort from the things that go bump in the night.  The spell is broken if he happens to be awoken during one of these cuddle sessions, and he’ll take out his embarrassment over the situation by treating you even crueler than he typically does.

·         One of the few niceties he allows you is sleeping in his bed as opposed to the floor-but it comes at a price.  It’s an honor to be able to sleep next to him nightly in his huge, plush, expensive bed, an honor far too good for the likes of you. He expects to be compensated for his generosity, so you’d best be ready to do any and everything he asks or desires at the drop of a hat, no matter how degrading or agonizing it may be. If you want to keep this privilege while preventing as much suffering as possible, you’ll do as he says. (Then again, it’s not like he really needs your active participation to force what he wants out of you, but he does like when you obey him ‘willingly’ and has a tendency to be a smidge less cruel when you follow his instruction).

·         He usually forces you to either sleep nude or in some very compromising/uncomfortable/embarrassing negligee that covers so little you mine as well BE naked. He’s a blanket hog too, and has a penchant for cranking up the AC at night, leaving your only source of warmth to be curling up beside him. You try and fight it at first, but you inevitably give in when the chill gets to be too much (also you aren’t too keen on getting ill in his presence, swallowing your pride is worth it if you can avoid more suffering).

·         He will mercilessly make fun of and belittle you for any stuffed animals you may have or try to sleep with. He’ll infantilize you, asking if you need a binky to go with your stuffy, or tease that he’ll need to put you in diapers so you don’t accidentally shit the bed. However, even with all the constant mocking, he does find it kinda hot when you try and use the plushies as a shield, doing your best to conceal your sniveling face and exposed body behind the fluffy creature as he plows into you ruthlessly. The toy does a shit job shielding you, but it is hilarious to watch you try and hide yourself behind them.

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Mason🐻

·         Despite everything, he’s actually probably the nicest of the lot to sleep with. He’s warm and soft, and when he holds you it’s comforting and shockingly soothing. It’s disconcerting how easily you melt into the same person that caused you so much trauma and torment, haunted by the fact that the arms that now wrap snuggly around you were not so long ago the greatest threat to your life. You don’t know whether you should be more disgusted with him for holding you with such familiarity or yourself for enjoying it as much as you do.

·         The man can sleep almost anywhere. After years of surviving out in the wilderness he has honed his body to handle tough climates and all manner of conditions, granting him the ability to thrive in less than favorable environments. The man could probably fall asleep in the middle of a torrential downpour with nothing but a rock bed beneath him and come out of it completely rested.

·         You aren’t expected to immediately be able to rough it. He realizes this way of life is all fairly new to you and that getting used to nights out in the wilderness has its own learning curve. Because of this, he’s actually surprisingly accommodating about the whole thing. When you camp, he makes sure to bring his best tent and sleeping bag for you to use, even though it’s a hassle to drag around and he himself has long since forgone the need for it. Though it’s nearly impossible to find comfort enough to sleep while stranded deep out in an unfamiliar forest, surrounded by nothing but the pitch black of night, all manner of voracious wild animals, and a serial killer, he does his best to make sure you are adequately cared for and as content as you can possibly be.

·         However you best not slack with your survival instincts, this coddling is only a limited time deal. You proved yourself to him once by pulling through his trial, but that doesn’t mean you have a free ride forever. He’ll pamper you a bit in the ‘honeymoon’ phase, but if you grow complacent and begin to let him down… It isn’t going to be a smooth or happy time for either of you. Its best not to betray his expectations, if you do something overly stupid or otherwise show your survival was just a fluke… your sleeping arrangement is going to be the least of your concern.

·         He finds your affinity for stuffed animals a bit juvenile, but also slightly endearing. He can’t deny how cute you look when you are curled up in his bed, nestled amongst various furs and blankets, clutching tight to your favorite plushie while you rest. He enjoys that sight so much that he decides to make you his own plushie for you one day as a gift.

·         It was a strange little lumpy creature he cobbled together from various fabric scraps and other soft, but unidentified, material, all sloppily hand sewn with little black buttons for eyes. It was a true amalgamation of mismatched cloth and stuffing, and to be honest… You weren’t really sure what it was supposed to be. A bear, maybe? Or a raccoon? Regardless, you take it without question, and once he sees it’s been accepted he’s quick to discard your previous plush. He’s accepting of this hobby to a degree-you can have ONE. And since you were smart and picked the better of the two, you don’t need the ratty old one to cling to for company anymore. You have him and you have his gift, everything else is frivolous.

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[fipindustries]

i already mentioned in the past that a friend of mine trained an AI on my drawings so that it could replicate my artstyle, a fun thing is that it fed it a bunch of drawings i made of myself so most of the things it creates look like self portraits i could have done

other just look like random cool guys i could have come up with

(i fucking love the guy with short hair and lipstick, he looks fucking sick, i am 100% using that design)

first of all, i cannot begin to descrive how mindfucky and trippy is to see drawing that *could have been done by me* but werent. every time i see them i have to catch my self for a few seconds wondering "wait, did i do these and forgot????"

second, because i didnt do these they are not worn on my eyes like a drawing i would have made, these are fresh images to my brain. i dont have a memory of having done every line and curve and having observed it a million times as i was doing them, thus the illusion of life is a lot more stronger for me.

so with all this is mind, this little excercise is allowing me to do something i always craved for but that i could never get. to see my own art from an outsider's perspective. to be able to appreciate my work from the point of view of someone else. how does my drawings look to others. i can do that now with these.

and let me tell you, not to sound too conceited but, damn, i really like what i see. i can now see what everyone else sees in my artstyle, its fun! its dinamic! its really expressive in a way i never noticed! and yes, the noses! oh my god the noses! and the way the lips curl and tighten.

on top of that, as i said, a lot of the overfitting in the model is directed towards self portraits that i made of myself, so the AI will tend to use many of the faces and features i use to depict myself. now you have to understand i identify quite strongly with my own drawings. i said often that i see more of my self in my drawings than i do in a mirror.

with this in mind its also super trippy that my friend basically has a fip generator.

every time i see things like this i cant help but go "OMG, THATS ME! THAT IS ME!"

(this final piece was actually done by me, lol)

so yeah, this has been all very illuminating