#not literally but almost nearly literally

[loserlvrss]

𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 ( 이희승 )

pairing : lee heeseung x fem!reader genre : drabble, [ MDNI 18+ ] smut warnings : oral ( fem rec ), petnames, language, overstimulation, slight fingering word count : 1.1k authors note : crazy for him… he’s just sooo

“hee,” you breathed out, threading your fingers through his hair, “hold on.” 

the way he dragged his lips along your collarbone and down to the hem of your shirt was making your brain short circuit. he wasn’t usually the one to initiate sex out of nowhere—because, out of you both, he knew how to hide his desires better than you did. however, almost ten minutes ago he’d gotten home from a company dinner where he happened to have a drink or two, leaving him slightly tipsy; it wasn’t nearly enough to impair his ability to think clearly. no, actually he’d never been clearer about what he wanted… 

you. under him. head between your legs. 

he had pleaded, compromising for the position. initially he wanted you to sit on his face, however you thought he might die in his current state. not that he seemed to mind much. he’d happily die if it meant you on his tongue. 

“baby,” you tugged just a little harder, getting him to lift his head with a groan. his eyes met yours, blown out and half-lidded. you knew you were fucked from the moment you met him, always giving him what he wanted if he so much as looked at you a certain way. 

his voice was barely over a whisper, peppering less intense kisses between words, “what’s wrong, angel?” 

truthfully, nothing. but you thought you needed him to hurry up before you lost your mind entirely. he’d taken his god forsaken time running his hands down, around and over your body before he even pressed his lips to your skin. you thought he was needy, but maybe he was just up to his same old shit, getting you frustrated and pliable enough to beg. 

and you would, you both knew that. 

“can you…” you couldn't even finish the sentence, heeseung pushing your shirt up entirely and attaching his mouth to your naval. you whimpered, feeling a smirk form against your skin. he watched as you threw your head back into the pillow, letting out a breath-filled moan. he loved you so embarrassingly much, he swore he’d never seen something prettier than you. nonetheless, you were just as deep in love… in reality, how could you not be? 

he laughed slightly, gripping your hips and dragging you down towards him. “can i, what?” he asked. except he knew you wouldn’t be able to answer with him sucking marks into your hips; just twist and turn. 

your whimpers and moans were only fuel to his flame, splaying his hands over your body to get you to stop moving too much. 

“c-can—you, fuck, hurry up?” 

his eyebrows rose in amusement, though you wouldn’t notice through closed eyes and a displayed neck. 

he thought your attempt to get what you want was admirable, and if he was completely sober—hiding his hips grinding against the sheets—then he’d make you clarify. but he was just as far gone, and borderline, needed it worse than you. 

he gave you one last kiss on the middle of your stomach before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweats. he dragged down both fabrics from your body, exposing your lower half fully to him. 

he fought back a groan that crept up his throat. “you’re so wet, my love.” your fingers curled into his hair tighter, and he couldn’t hold back the noise anymore. it hit your ears, but you played it off like you hadn’t noticed. though, he probably wouldn’t stop even if you made fun of him for being so down bad for pussy—at least he was getting some whenever he wanted, he’d think, in comparison to his single best friends. “is it for me?” 

“yes, heeseung! all for you baby.” you didn’t mean for it to border a shout, however you were beyond impatient at this point in time. “now, please wou—“ 

he cut you off by wrapping your thighs around his head, using his hands to keep them on his shoulders, and diving him. 

he dragged his tongue through your folds, (literally) testing the waters. you tried to follow with your hips, but every time he’d lightly smack your skin in response. until you got the hint. 

“hee, please.” and he smiled, knowing that he was finally getting what he wanted. “i need more, please, need it—you—so bad.” 

that was his cue, his undoing, and he sucked your clit into his mouth. he savored your taste, and basked in the sounds you made. he couldn’t help the grunts that left his throat every time you’d pull on his hair just right. he liked it. 

he liked it all. 

the way you kept saying his name. the way your legs got tighter as you kept him buried. the way you looked so ethereal just using him to your pleasure, rolling your hips so desperately. this is what he wanted, the exact vision he had in his mind almost twenty minutes ago. you needed it… but he needed it more. 

you grabbed at his hand on your leg, with the one not threaded through his dark locks, until he slotted his fingers between yours. you squeezed as an attempt to ground yourself from the sky-soaring pleasure. 

“s-shit,” you stuttered, “baby, i-i’m close,” 

he hummed, the vibrations only adding pleasure, and readjusted his body to be closer. if you weren’t so close to toppling over the edge, you might’ve laughed. 

he didn’t let up, in fact he got—somehow—better; alternating between kissing, sucking and licking. he knew you and your body too damn well, you thought. if you weren’t designed for him, you don’t know who would be.

“gonna cum,” you blurted, body tension under his grip, “hee—fuck!” 

however, when he would normally stop and fuck you, he didn’t. he kept his mouth firmly planted on your heat, savoring every last drop you had to offer… and then some. he just couldn’t will himself to pull away. not even when you pulled almost hard enough to take some locks with you. 

he listened to your pants and whines, but it was distant and cloudy. and when he broke away from your clenched hand to ghost two fingers at your entrance, you almost screamed. 

“no—“ you opted for pushing, but your boyfriend wouldn’t budge, “n-no more,” 

the overstimulation was painfully blissful. you both knew you liked it, after all you had an agreed on safe word that you hadn’t used. he could at least hear as much as that. but it didn’t even cross your mind. not even when he pushed in, scissoring and dragging his digits at a rapid pace. 

“fuck,” it’s like he came up for air—but not very far—his face glossed over. “you’re so beautiful, baby. give me another, please. i need it.” who were you to deny when it felt as good as it did? 

in reality, you had a feeling this was only the start of your night with him. 

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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[ivybucky]

lightning in a bottle - logan howlett x reader

mutant!reader nearly harms the team in a moment of panic and feels unable to deal with the aftermath, but logan is there to bring you back in more ways than one

a/n: i have so many ideas besties... currently have a list of 5 fic ideas and this is the first one I was able to flush out. here's some angst with happy ending for ya (no smut)

content: angst with happy ending, lots of electricity(literally), mentions of torture and screaming, mentions of mutant experimentation, implications of shitty birth family, confession of feelings, reader crying, sad reader, angry/sad logan

words: 2329

~~~~~

All you could think about was the lightning. 

You remember walking into the room, where the footage of your torture was displaying blatantly across the TV news cycle, the team sitting there and watching with rapt attention. “Mutant Experimentation Footage Leaked” scrolled across the screen. You remember the static tingling in your fingertips as you recognized what you were watching. Your own cries echoed from the speakers as footage of Stryker’s experimentation on you from a month prior when you had been captured is played to the nation. 

“Turn it off,” you had said quietly, pleadingly. The team’s gaze snaps to your silhouette in the door frame. Their eyes held sorrow, and something else that you did not want to see. 

“Y/N-” Storm had started to speak, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“Turn it off, now,” you’d said, clenched fists at your side as the panic began to swell, small flares of electricity flaring around your knuckles. Memories of the torture, the agony, the hatred came rushing back all at one and your eyes couldn’t leave the screen as it continuously replayed it. 

As the feeling heightening, electricity cracked in the air. Your eyes lit up, a bright purple gleam taking over. There was too much silence in the room, the sounds of your screams playing in a loop like a broken record as the news team played the footage over and over. Finally, someone broke it. “Y/N,” Logan had spoken up, an odd, unfamiliar tone in his voice. Good god, was that pity?

“What?” You had snapped, finally looking away from the footage and making eye contact with the team, with Logan, and you understood it wasn’t pity you heard in his voice, but a form of fear. Your anger slowly dissipated as you took in the state of the room - everyone in that room (who wasn’t bald) had hair floating up into the air, falling under the influence of the clouded electricity that filled the ceiling, just as one is before they get struck by lightning. 

And gods above you had almost struck them. 

Your fists fell lax at your sides, realization of the height of your emotions, the loss of control taking over your features. “I-” you stuttered, unsure how to apologize for the pain you nearly inflicted. “I-I’m sorry.”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, no one said a word. It wasn’t the first time you had lost control, but it was the first time any of them were in danger because of it. Everyone stood like statues, watching you with bated breath, as if you were one nudge away from electrocuting the masses. You turned and fled the room, quickly striding back to your room to inevitably lock yourself in. It was the only place you felt like you could be and not hurt anyone.

Hours had passed since, but you couldn’t shake the look on their faces, the pure fright they showed, caused by you. Decidedly, that wouldn’t happen again - you wouldn’t allow it, in any capacity. Would they always fear you now? Could you manage to stay surrounded by people you loved, but knew there would always be a limit to how far their love for you went? Could you withstand the constant pins and needles your family would walk on around you, again?

It was that thought that had you hurriedly shuffling through your closet to find the duffle bag you had lugged over your shoulder when you were originally picked up by X-Men. It was crumbled into a wrinkled ball on the top shelf, thought to no longer have any use. 

You paced around the room, picking up the things you knew you couldn’t leave without. The students can go through my clothes, you thought with some sort of sad acceptance. Though, that didn’t keep you from packing some of the staples. The school logo printed on a t-shirt, an old sweatshirt that was singed from a fire fight in your first mission with the rest of the team, a stolen old flannel that smelt like smoke and whiskey-

“Where are you going, sweetheart?” You look up almost startled at Logan standing at the door to your bedroom, now cracked wide open. Logan… You’d nearly forgotten about the worst part - leaving him behind.

He leans against the door frame with a confused expression, arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows before turning back to the half-full duffle bag that sat on the foot of your bed. You knew you couldn’t look at him when you spoke again. 

“I’m leaving,” you nearly mutter and you stuff more clothes into the bag. You can feel your eyes getting hot, and try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” he asks, his own brows furrowing. “Leaving for a mission?”

Your movements paused. You could tell the truth, but the reality was that he would try to stop you. And even if nothing had come out of the tension that hung between the two of you, you knew you would give in. 

“Yeah,” you swallowed as you lied. “Just a quick one, some intel gathering. I’m leaving sometime tomorrow morning.”

There was a brief pause, like Logan was trying to get a read on how truthful you were being. “Maybe I should come with you,” he says. “For backup, just in case.”

You clench your eyes shut - of course, he thought you needed to be accompanied. “I’ll be fine on my own,” your hands slow their movements as you place the last item in the bag, a gray zip up hoodie Logan had given you once. Were you saying that to reassure him, or yourself? You lied through your teeth like it was painful, as if the act of clenching your jaw so hard would break your bones and your will. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was another pause, and you were sure he was going to call your bluff, but he just clicked his tongue. “Well alright,” he said gruffly, almost dejectedly. His hand fiddled with the door frame for a moment hesitantly. “You know that if you need-“

“I know,” you interrupted, turning to give him a tight smile. “I know.” He gave a saddened half smile before nodding and walking away. 

The space he once occupied at the door was empty now, but for a moment you stared at as if he was still there, as if he was still trying to comfort you even when he didn’t know how. 

An errant tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your face for a moment before you snapped back into reality, wiping the tear away quickly with the heel of your hand. You aggressively zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, eager to leave before anyone, mainly Charles, got an idea of your plan. 

With the click of the front door, and the clap of a thunderstorm on the dark horizon, you were gone. 

As Logan left your room, he externally winced at his inability to provide comfort - to you of all fucking people - as if the non-action hurt him. The pain on your face seeped into the air and into his adamantium bones, as if it was transferable through the longing gazes and secretly honeyed words. 

He hung his head and he slowly walked further down the hall, a part of him hoping he would hear your door creak open and hear you call out his name. Instead, he was met with the faint sniffles of a teary nose that only his heightened hearing could pick up, a scuffle of fabric being shoved tightly into the duffle that was then harshly zipped shut with a shuddering sigh.

He turned the corner to retreat to his room before he could hear any more, deciding to join the mission the next morning anyways. 

The following morning, Logan made his way to Charles, unexpecting wanting to make his intentions to follow her known to someone. He entered the room, Charles already staring directly at him with a face one could only describe as similar to an omniscient god.

“Logan,” Charles spoke, somewhat resigned. “She doesn’t have a mission.”

Logan paused in his step with a furrowed brow. “What are you talking about? She said she was leaving this morning.”

“I did not give her one,” he confirms. “I have a feeling-”

Logan cut him off before the professor could continue. His jaw was clenched tight as he spoke the words. “She left.”

A tense silence took over the room, Charles watching Logan with a straight, yet dissecting gaze. Logan broke eye contact and looked away momentarily as he felt his heart sink to his stomach for the first time in decades. 

Finally, he looked back to Charles with a determined glare. “Where is she?”

The side of the professor’s mouth twitches up. 

—-

It only took two days for Logan to reach you. Charles was able to track your location easily as soon as he was asked. It took nothing for Logan to take the bike and peel out of the upstate town. Now, he stood in the rain staring at the shitty side-of-the-road motel with a simmering glare. 

His mind floated despondently in the air above him, completely unattached from his body as it stomped its way up the stairs and down the hall to your room. His fist banged on the door loudly, uncaring of its stability under his metal skeleton. His heightened exhaustion and emotions tethered him enough to not let his head fly too far away from him, but the reality was that he hadn’t slept since you left and the only words he spoke were to himself as he practiced what he would say to get you to return.

But then, the door swung open. His mind snapped back to his body as soon as he saw your face, but the pleas he had planned to beg left him just as quick. 

“You lied to me,” he growled, he accused, standing in the open door, his hands resting up on the door frame. The rain continued to pour just past the motel covering, evidence of its duration linger in the form of wet tracks down his leather jacket, the dampness of his hair, the drops that stuck to his face. 

“Logan-”

“You lied to me, Y/N,” he repeated, a new kind of angry heat simmering in his eyes. “You were not leaving for a mission.”

You take another deep breath. “‘M leaving for good,” you utter softly, your hands trembling slightly at the first out loud admission of what you had planned to do. You circled the back in the room, putting the cheap mattress in between you as some sort of barrier. The duffle bag he saw you packing days ago sat mockingly between you both. 

“Come on, what the fuck? ‘Leaving for good’?” He asks incredulously, taking a step forward and letting his arms drop to his sides. “You were going to leave the mansion, just like that?”

You stare at the duffle’s opening, having only reached that motel hours ago, not long enough to unpack the only remaining items you had. “I can’t stay, Logan,” you say softly, not moving to look at him. “No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it, I can’t control me. Even Charles doesn’t know what to do with me, I-I had to leave, it’ll be better for everyone.”

“No,” he says defiantly, moving cautiously closer around the side of the bed. “Not everyone.”

The tears welled in your eyes at his words, unable to stop them from falling and you crossed your arms in front of you protectively, the tear-stained cuffs of the hoodie, his hoodie, pushed up your forearms. “Why are you here, Logan?”

“Why am I- are you stupid?” He scoffed, causing you to flinch at his harshness. “I’m here to bring you back. You’re not leaving the school, you’re not leaving me alone-”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, with tears streaming down your face as you shake your head. He can feel his heart break at the side of your distress. “None of you do. I nearly struck all of you the other day, just because I got emotional. I almost hurt you, and that’s the last thing you need, Logan.”

Logan quickly moves closer to stand in front of you and cups your cheeks, bringing your wet eyes to his. “Don’t you get it,” he says with a strained, rough voice. His thumbs sweep gently under your eyes to brush away the tears. “You are the only thing I need. Fuck everything and everyone else.”

Your hands come up to hold onto his wrist, keeping his hands exactly where they are on your face. “Logan-” you stutter as you search his eyes almost hopefully. “What are you saying?”

There’s a brief silence in between your soft sniffles and the sound of the rain on the other side of the motel door. When Logan speaks again, it is deliberate, and it’s what he wanted to say all along. “I’m saying I am nothing without you, sweetheart,” he urges, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. “I was nothing before you, and I know that if you leave now, I’ll be nothing all over again. Not a single person in that school wants you to leave, me especially.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in time with the hopeful clenching of your heart, forcing tears out as you do so. You rest your forehead against Logan’s as he continues. “Please,” he nearly whispers, his nose bumping against yours. “Come home with me and turn nothing into something again.”

You nodded against him and spoke a wet “okay” before pressing your lips, finally, against his. And, just as you had predicted you would several nights ago, you gave in. 

_____

a/n: quickly posting this bc if i keep staring at it i'll never post it pls tell me how i did :D logan smut comin soon, pls like, comment, reblog

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

mk1 khaos reigns spoilers under the cut

okay. first of all. I LOVE how Bi-Han focused KR was, like i was literally jumping up and down and screaming like my man was in almost every scene YESSSSS!!!

I'm also s o fucking relieved (you literally have no idea) that we got Bi-Han back so quickly, I was so worried he'd remain Noob Saibot forever. Like I nearly started sobbing.

also, sad pathetic puppy Bi-Han shsjsjssj he's so cute

he literally looks so upset and cute uggh i can't stand him.

idc what anyone says, him and Sektor are so freaking cute!!! I can't even express to you how I almost imploded when they touched foreheads (Kauai Liang judging in the background 😭😭)

I can't even begin to express how beautiful it is that someone unconditionally loves this piece of shit bastard. She pushed for them to bring him back to Earthrealm so he could be healed. She was set on finding him and bringing him back from the beginning. just uggh. I know Bi-Han is a complete and utter dick who seriously needs his ass beat- but nobody cares for him. His brothers understandably hate him and everyone else has a level of dislike for him- but Sektor is the only one who truly loves him, and sees his vision. Like yesss queen both of us would be behind this man full stop. 😭😭😭😭😭

my only complaint is we didn't get enough Kitana. like hello??? She should have played a way bigger part!! Have her come along with them to Khaos Realm!!!!!

But the few scenes she was in, she slayed. I love how she moves her hands when she talks uggh!! I just love her so freaking much.

i know some peeps are disappointed with the storymode and everything and I understand that, but personally I loved it. I've only been involved with MK1 so maybe that's why some of the changes and additions and stuff don't bother me idk.

But anyway I'm gonna sit in my own tears for three to four business days and try not to think about Bi-Han and how cute and adorable he is and how I wanna slap him in the face for ruining Kuai Liang and Harumi's wedding omfg.

Also every single person in this photo ate. no crumbs. BI-HANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!! just wish Kitana and Mileena were there too

[trulyunholy]

rendezvous

matt murdock x f!reader

rating: mature, minors DNI

tags & warnings: literally just porn with no plot, vaginal sex, semi-public sex (kinda); this isn’t too explicit but it’s definitely still 18+; more notes at bottom of post

word count: 2.2k

Cool air and the sound of city life floated in through the cracked window of the office. It was dark, all the lights in the office turned off, the only illumination coming from the streetlights outside. You knew it was impossible to be seen here, but you still felt exposed, skirt pulled up and resting on your waist, panties lying somewhere on the floor.

Matt sat in his office chair, still fully clothed. Perched on top of him, knees bracing his thighs, the feeling of his slacks on your bare legs, you craved nothing more than to feel his skin on yours. You’d asked him to let you undress him, just unbutton his shirt, even, but he denied you. He always did.

“It’s about you,” he’d purred in your ear, sounding breathless and ragged. “Wanna focus on feeling you.”

And he did. The warmth in your stomach made its way up to your chest and down to your core as his hands wandered lazily under your blouse, up your back. The feeling of his breath on your neck made your heart race.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned your shirt, and he took his time with them, the ache in your core growing with each loosened inch of fabric. His hair tickled your jaw as he planted hot kisses up and down your neck, as he pulled your blouse off down your arms.

A satisfied sigh fell from your lips as you leaned your head back, granting him more access to your bare skin. His mouth worked a path from your neck down to your chest, laying slow, lazy kisses on your collarbones, the dip in between them, down to your sternum, before finally running his tongue over your breast. The hot expanse of his tongue on the sensitive nipple brought another moan from deep in your chest.

But frustration burst inside you when he pulled back after only a few short, sweet seconds.

“Get up,” he told you. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t quite a suggestion either.

You did so without question, though, and also turned to face away from him when he told you to. His hands were back on you in an instant when he wrapped his arms around you and nudged you forward until your hips hit the edge of his desk. With a hand flat on your back, he gently pushed you forward until you were pressed against the desk, only your elbows and his arms around you keeping you upright.

“Matt-”

He shushed you. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was commanding in a way that made you want to do whatever he told you to do.

The hard wood of the desk was cold underneath the bare skin of your stomach, but it was smooth, firm, sturdy in a way you found comforting. Like you were always meant to be leaned over this man’s desk in complete undress at any time, day or night. You were absolutely willing to be, you were sure of that.

“Nobody else is here,” he reassured you, as if he could read your mind, read the worries in the tenseness of your muscles.

His hands were feather soft at your hips, and his fingers smooth as silk as he trailed two of them over the base of your spine. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and the whimper you made at the faintest touch was almost embarrassing. His left hand snaked around you while his right held his own weight on the desk. His mouth found your spine, and he softly kissed every bump on the way up to your neck. You could feel the heat of him pressing into you, and you were beginning to feel desperate in a way you’d never experienced before.

He was still fully clothed, you could feel the soft fabric of his shirt against your bare back, but it was somehow the most sensual thing you’d ever felt. You were falling apart and he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

“Please, Matt-“ you tried again, but nearly jumped when his voice was right in your ear.

“Patience is a virtue,” he whispered, ruffling your hair with his breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity leaned over his desk and staying as still as you could while he admired you, his hand found your throat. He pressed lightly, just the slightest amount of pressure, but it sent your head spinning. You could hear rustling behind you, and you couldn’t help but be impressed with the dexterity he had as you heard the slide of his belt and the quiet zip of his pants.

The pressure left your throat and his fingers ran through your hair in a gesture far gentler than you were expecting. It was silent for just a moment and you felt your lungs begin to burn as you realized you were holding your breath.

“Are you ready sweetheart?”

His voice was so soft behind you, so gentle, you could have easily lost it in the ambient noises coming in from the open window. You swallowed hard, a rush of nerves and excitement flooding your body.

You tried to speak clearly, to give him a clear “yes” or “of course” or “please,” but all you could manage was a ragged “uh-huh.”

Another second of anticipation built in your stomach. You didn’t know what was going on behind you, and you knew better than to peek or to ask. But then his hand trailed back down your spine and onto your stomach, sliding down, down, down, until his fingers found the wetness growing between your thighs. He gave a satisfied hum as his middle finger dipped lower, grazing over your clit and sending a shiver through your whole body.

“Mm,” he hummed again, and you could feel the heat of his skin on your ass as he pressed closer to you.

When he was as close to you as he could get, his grip on your thigh holding you close to him, he slid his finger inside of you. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. You felt filthy, having such a strong reaction to such a little touch. You felt him situate himself as he pulled his finger out, but you weren’t left empty for long. There was a pressure at your entrance as he pushed against you, a pleasant warmth that you felt yourself relaxing into.

And then you were seeing stars. With a single thrust he was skin to skin with you again, completely buried in your warmth.

“Oh, shit!” Breathless. Boneless. Suddenly nothing else in the world existed. “Fuck.”

Another moan, this time his, so close to your ear it made you jump.

“You okay?” he asked, his forehead leaned on your shoulder. As if he hadn’t just changed your entire life in one movement.

“Y-yes. Fuck!”

The slightest of movement from him and you whimpered again, the sheer feeling of Matt all the way inside you sending you closer to the edge.

“You feel so good,” he said, his voice low and ragged.

And holy shit, the thought of you having that effect on him- well it was almost too much to handle. When he pulled back out, the slow movement ripped another moan from your lips.

One of his hands reached around you again, this time cupping a breast, fingers running over the sensitive skin as he continued to thrust in, pull out, and repeat it all with a rhythm that had you shaking. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself climbing toward a climax.

“Shit, Matt, I-“ You wanted to fight it. You weren’t ready, didn’t want this to be over yet. “You’ve gotta stop or I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” he answered, his voice nearly a growl, not letting up his pace at all. The sounds of skin on skin and the wetness between your legs were so loud and filthy you thought you might blush. “Give it to me, sweetheart.”

And you had no choice. You gave him everything you had to give. Your knees buckled and your elbows hit the desk, but you didn’t even notice over the stars shooting behind your eyes and the blood rushing through your body, from your heart to your ears, and it was all too much. The explosion was nothing short of euphoric.

And it had happened in a matter of minutes. Whenever you finally came back down, when you felt the sweat sticky on your skin, when you finally caught your breath, you opened your mouth. You weren’t sure what you were going to say, but you didn’t have a chance to say anything. Matt turned you around and captured your mouth with his again. His breathing was almost as heavy as yours,

In one unbelievably quick motion, he brought his office chair back behind him, sat down roughly, and pulled you closer until your shins were against him.

You gave yourself another moment to take him in, and he looked absolutely ruined. His face was flushed, he was breathing hard and fast, his face was needy, and my god, you had never been more attracted to him. He huffed, patted his hands on his thighs twice, and it was the only encouragement you needed.

More than eager, you joined him on the office chair again, knees straddled on thighs, arms wrapped around his neck. One of his hands went to the back of your head, so gentle as he led your forehead to his, eyes closed as he breathed fast. His other hand went to your hip, guiding you down at his pace. His face stayed close to yours, and you had a deliciously close view when his mouth fell open in pleasure as you fully seat yourself onto him. He groaned, a low, hot, ragged sound, and without thinking you buried your head into his neck, kissing and nibbling the soft skin without regard as you worked your body up and down.

A sharp tug on your hair stopped you abruptly, but all he said was, “No marks, still have work,” and then released your hair, throwing his head back into the chair.

The effect you had on this man was absolutely intoxicating. You were on top of him, riding him, kissing him, absolutely ruining him. You felt like you had so much power, though you knew he was the one allowing you to feel that way. Before you knew it, your next orgasm was on you.

You wanted to warn him, but you couldn’t get the words out, too tied up in your pleasure. You only stuttered a string of “please” and “yes” and “oh my god”s. His arms wrapped around you quickly though, as if he was trying to get as close to you as possible, and one hand was in your hair again and the other was on your back, and he groaned so beautifully and then choked out your name and said, “Please.”

And that was it. You were done for. For the second time tonight, you were gone. Your whole body went tense as the pleasure building up inside you finally snapped and filled every fiber of your being. And through your own intense pleasure you barely heard his hoarse cry, but suddenly you were on the floor, on your knees in front of him, and you were still contracting and clenching as his hand wrapped around his cock and stroked once, twice, and then he came, too, a wet heat on your chest that you felt spread down your stomach and onto your thighs.

Your muscles finally relaxed as you came down from your second high, and it took everything you had not to slump to the floor in a heap of boneless pleasure. It was in a haze that you saw Matt lean over to his desk, slide open a drawer and pull something out. Then he was on his knees in front of you, wiping his mess off of you with a handful of tissues.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him say through your haze, and your eyelids were getting heavy and you couldn’t figure out why he was apologizing.

“What’s wrong? Was that-?” You tried to wrack your brain for what could have possibly gone wrong.

“No, no,” he said quickly, and then his arms were around you again and he gently laid you back onto the floor. “I should’ve asked before I…well, it just snuck up on me, but I should’ve-”

You finally realized what he was talking about, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

He kissed you again before he laid back on the floor and wrapped his arms around you as you made yourself comfortable on his chest. You stayed like that for a while, both of you in a comfortable silence as the soft sounds of late night city life drifted in from the open window.

—

this is a first draft version of a scene that I cut out of no in-between, but I enjoyed writing it a lot so I thought I’d rework it a bit and share it. this is my first time really writing anything spicy/explicit, so I’m open to comments and constructive criticism. <3

[applestorms]

actually. @moonlarked you wanted someone to talk about near & light as parallels? cuz uh...

ok SO, my big hot take on near is something like this: one of the most common criticisms i see about near is that he is simply too apathetic/bored/uncaring/etc, and that because he is not as emotionally invested as L, his win against light doesn't feel nearly (lol) as satisfying as it could've been. this is a view that often frustrates me, but for a very particular reason— namely, while i think it is somewhat accurate in content, i think it misses a lot of important context (and also misses a lot of the importance of light's character arc, but we'll get to that much later).

one of the most important things to remember about the wammy's kids is that, whether they like it or not, each and every one of them is defined almost entirely through their relationship to L. this is perhaps more obvious in the case of characters like BB and mello, who are very Aware of this shadow being cast upon them and react in very overt, emotional ways (e.g. becoming a literal serial killer out of seemingly pure spite & desire to be noticed, idolizing him but in a very emotionally complicated, kinda detached sorta way, etc), but it is true for Every wammy's kid, purely because of how the house itself functions. these kids are being raised to be L's successor— the greatest (and second greatest, and third greatest) detective on the planet. this is the ultimate goal hanging over every one of their heads, and it places a constant pressure on every kid there.

oftentimes, i think (perhaps both out of story and in it, as well?) people get so caught up in comparing near to L that they forget he also falls under this umbrella— only, for near, his position is slightly different because he actually somewhat succeeds at the task? like, yeah, L never gets the chance to officially call near his successor, but between the fact that he's constantly called the #1 kid at wammy's and that he. literally does actually end up becoming the new L after kira, i think it's always been pretty clear what his path was going to be.

going back to my starting point, this is one of the main ways that near makes a really good parallel to light in my mind, specifically the light that we see right at the start of the series. in both cases, near and pre-DN light, we see a kid who has succeeded at everything they've been handed, and more notably, we see a kid who is bored out of his fucking mind looking at the prospects of what he's got.

in the case of light, this is maybe a little more realistic/easy to understand— light does well in academics, he does well in sports, he does well with people. he is likely to follow in his father's footsteps with something criminal justice/police/law related, but even if he diverges from that path it likely won't be too big of a deal, as he has shown himself to be capable in enough areas that he's likely to succeed no matter what. by all measurable standards, light's doing pretty good at the start of the series. and yet— there is something so distinctly and inherently Bland about his life before he gets the DN. i've said before that light wouldn't call the DN a curse even if he wanted to, but i think in that moment when he's telling ryuk he disagrees w/ his father after visiting him in the hospital, when he says, "I've never once considered finding that notebook and gaining this power a misfortune. In fact, it's made me happier than I've ever been." (ch.22) he's still getting at something real and truthful.

again, going back to my equating of boredom with depression in this series— light's life is pretty good by all measurable standards. he has a family who loves him, presumably more than enough money to get by with a pretty cushy lifestyle, and does well, honestly better than well, in every single system he is presented with. but even so, he's still unhappy. there is something in his soul that has not yet been satisfied. he's bored of the world, bored of his place in it, how easy it all is. what the DN really offers him is a challenge, entertainment— just the same as L, and just the same as ryuk.

near similarly suffers from this kind of boredom, though it is perhaps less overtly stated than in the case of light, L, and ryuk, and less easy to catch as it is not as realistic/common. again: near basically ends up the winner of wammy's house. he is the one to take the title of L, he's declared the smartest, bestest kid at wammy's, and he gets all the power and privilege that comes with such a title. but still— he's so. fucking. bored. much to the embarrassment of mello, this shit was never really a challenge to him. it's pretty obvious that near isn't really even all that attached to the title of L— don't forget that his first real introduction to the story involves him explicitly saying that he'd be just fine working with mello as essentially co-L successors. and this is a viewpoint that he holds onto until the very end of the series, actually, claiming that he was only able to best light due to mello's sacrifice. near doesn't really give a fuck about the rat race he's been slotted into, though it's perhaps for that exact reason that he ends up winning it anyway, and getting all the responsibility that comes along.

that being said, i think there are still two main differences between light and near:

light fucks up.

near never gets past his boredom.

in the case of this first point, i do not mean to say that near never ever makes any move/judgement that could be considered a mistake— mello killing the entire SPK is the first thing that comes to mind, which i see as blood on near's hands for the same reason that L takes at least some responsibility for lind l. tailor. rather, i mean that near never makes a such a monumental fuck-up that he has to overturn his entire worldview just to account for it in the same way that light does when he accidentally kills two people w/ the DN the first time.

it's like, if you've ever known (or been) the kind of kid who always got perfect grades in school, straights A's for K-12, only to reach college and suddenly bomb their first test and have an existential crisis as their only real achievement in life is crushed into dust, then you know light yagami. only for light, it's on a whole 'nother scale, because not only does he fucking oopsie daisy kill two people, but he kills in such a context that he can mentally manipulate it back into seeming heroic. i hate to say that suffering causes character development because that's terrible advice (it's how you react to terrible circumstances that matters, imho) but to some degree, yeah, having conflicts/hard times in life is just necessary to figure shit out sometimes. near (and L, oh goddd i need to write about L properly sometime) has so many things smoothed over and handed to him, and on top of that, he's a super genius very rarely fucks anything up, at least according to base logic. he doesn't even really consider the morality of anything he's doing until light straight up asks him in a desperate bid to keep talking at the end, it's all just logic and factors to consider.

this all leads to my second point, which is that near never really gets the chance to overcome his boredom in the same way as the others. ryuk at least gets his entertainment for a couple years, and light and L (and mello) get so invested in each other and their game that it literally kills them, but near just kinda. keeps going. he keeps being L, he keeps solving cases, he does the duty he was given and enjoys his toys... and that's it. he lies around, the only one left to live, never even taking credit for the end of KIRA, never gets another haircut, and keeps the title going. what a life, for a kid who dragged a god back down to earth.

sidenote1: toys

am i reading too into things? maybe. near's toys hold a lot of significance throughout the story in more specific ways, most notably the finger puppets he uses at the very end of the story while tracking different people's/kira's actions, though you could probably read some kind of meaning into every toy he has and the ways in which he plays with them. what i want to look at here though is more the general reasoning behind playing with them in the first place— a desire for a childhood he didn't get to have? a love of games more generally? (could track with him seeing the KIRA case, or really all detective work, as just another game.) you could also read into his toys as another source for near's apathy/detachment from reality, literally breaking every notable person around him down into a doll by the end of the story, speaking a lot to how alienated he is from the world (again, very similar to both L and light, there). i don't have much more of a point to make here, just wanted to add this in somewhere since it's one of his most striking visual character traits.

sidenote2: light's arc

going back to my point at the start of this post... light's character arc.

uhh. near winning is a good thing, actually. and i don't just mean that as a moral claim— DN itself as a story isn't really concerned with trying to answer any moral questions about good or evil or the justice system, so it makes sense & is fair to me that it doesn't try all that hard to answer anything along those lines by the very end of the story. what i mean to say here is that near winning is a good thing on the level of the character arc, specifically as an end to light's arc.

i made a post a while back while mid-manga reread talking through some of the reasons why L's death can feel kind of unsatisfying/paint the second half of the story in a less interesting light (hah) for a lot of viewers, with the main point i ended up on being that L wasn't really able to win because he never really had all that clear of a win state in the first place. i still kiiind of agree with this point, though i think there's a lot more i could add to that post... anyways. point is, i bring up that post because it touches on a similar thing to what i want to talk about here: light's character arc being a tragedy.

this is more speculation on my part, but i think another part of the reason why people get turned off to DN post-L death is not just the fact that L isn't really a playable character in the game anymore, but the fact that light's character arc takes such a dramatic twist after the timeskip. i talked about this a little bit in my little ramble on light & titles (which a lot of you liked, apparently!! ty for all the lovely comments on there, i love reading what you guys have to say ^w^), but light's character arc in DN is a tragedy to me, full-stop.

tragedies to me are cyclical— revolutionary, if you will. since all stories necessitate some kind of something to take place, a tragedy to me is all about a character beginning in one point, then continually getting hit by Event, after Thing, after Event, only to end up in essentially the exact same place that they started. any character changes or development that seem to happen throughout the story are ultimately nullified by the end— the main subject does not truly grow, does not truly reflect on their actions or traumas, does not move on. two steps forward is two steps back. even ending up in a position worse than they started is sometimes better than a true tragedy, in my mind, as at least then there is some chance they may still reflect or change or grow in the future, leaving the hope that they may still overcome this new circumstance later on. a true tragedy ends in nothing meaningful ever getting the chance to truly change, at least in the case of the main subject of the story.

light's character arc in the first half of the story is an upward, underdog kind of story. yes, light has the power of a shinigami, of a supernatural force that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists— but part of the real appeal of his conflict with L is how powerful L feels in comparison, having the wealth and respect and title to command a world's worth of forces against him. fuck, even taking down naomi misora feels like an incredible hurdle overcome, a teenager managing to charm and yap and flutter his eyelashes out of a shitty situation he was only just lucky enough to stumble across in the first place, to stop someone who could've ruined his entire plan with a few words. killing L was always going to be light's greatest accomplishment when it comes to his rise to godhood, not only because of L's great power but the comparative position of light at the time that he did so— not yet an adult, not even really out of school, perhaps barely out of his parents' house.

in contrast, light's arc for the second half of the story is a downward spiral. we see all of the consequences light has been miraculously avoiding smack into him like meteors in this half, his ever-growing ego torn to shreds as he's yanked back down to earth. and in comparison to the anime, the manga really beats this point into you, dedicating the entire second half of the story to light's fall from grace as he loses his mind and loses his humanity. like, while i do kind of prefer the manga ending to the anime, i have to admit that light's death there is fucking brutal. light goes through pages, chapters, purely dedicated to near tearing him a new asshole, only end the story bloody and delirious and crawling on his knees begging a god of death to fix everything— all just to die the exact same death as everyone else he's killed. i mean, look at these fucking pages (ch.107):

(that last fucking picture of him. clawing at the sky. it always fucking gets to me.)

it hurts to read this shit!! we spend the entire first half of the story watching this dude's rise to glory, the entire time stuck inside of his head, emotionally connecting with him even if we don't really mean to or disagree with his actions or question his morality. watching his fall back down, especially after all of that, is fucking painful— an in no way does near make the process any easier. if anything, his blunt, snarky bitchery, saying all the quiet parts out loud, calling light out for being a terrible replacement L and pointing and laughing at his failures to his face, only shoves more salt in the wound, only proves just how human he has been all this time, how meaningless any of his supposed "rise to power" ever really was. light got his fifteen seconds of fame, sure— but near is armed and ready to make sure that's all he'd ever get, that the name Light Yagami would never even be associated with the position he held for so long. six years was all he got— and it was all he was ever going to get, because light yagami did not do this for humanity, he did it for himself. all near did was collect the debt that L prescribed. he fulfilled his duty as told— nothing more, and nothing less.

i just have to wonder... is this why people hate him? because he has no sympathy for the fall? maybe. i don't know.

either way, i don't think i could ever really hate him. it's a big responsibility, being the only one left behind. but near has always been the one to hold such weights on his shoulders.

[koolades-world]

Spellbound Secrets

chapter eight: catacomb escape

synopsis: The House of Lamentation caught fire one night, and you were the only one they recovered from the wreckage. The brothers were in the house as well when you went to bed that night, but they were nowhere to be found. The pact marks are faded, and seem to be getting more and more indefinite by the day. You and Solomon get to investigating but oddly enough, nobody can seem to remember the missing brothers. It’s up to you, with the help of Solomon, to find your beloved demons, lest you never see them again.

navigation: playlist | prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight (you are here!) | chapter nine (coming next week) (if you're looking for all spellbound secrets content, such as chapters ahead of this one, head to my tags masterlist or simply look up the tag spellbound secrets!)

authors note: i am literally so silly. i completed this last night and just never hit post??? oh well monday morning surprise lol

With the rest of the plan out on the table now, the two of you debated what move to make next.

"Where should we head first?" Solomon wanted you to decide, since you were the one that was fading.

"Let's head to the attic first. It's closer." The attic didn't hold the most pleasant of memories, but if some sort of clue or answer happened to be up there, you wanted to be sure you could find it. Carefully, the two of you made your way to the attic staircase. Again, Solomon demanded that he test it out first. When he'd made it to the top, he had you slowly follow behind him. At the top of the staircase, you were face to face with the warped metal bars that separated the stairs from the rest of the room. On one hand, the damage didn't seem too bad, which would only affirm your theory that the fire originated in Lucifer's study. However, on the other, you didn't find all that much. The attic was rather barren before the fire, so there was only less afterwards.

You didn't let the lack of finding discourage you. You still had the catacombs to check. Even if you came back empty handed from there, at the very least, you'd recovered memories of the brothers and potentially found a couple leads in the mysterious colored ash and the hidden paperwork. But you weren't giving up yet.

Since it was underground, it should have been relatively untouched by the fire. There were a couple things you were hoping to find down there. First, Lucifer's grimoire. You weren't sure if it would even be there. If you could, though, you wanted to keep it safe. If there was anyone he could trust with it, it would be you. You would feel bad removing it from where he kept it, because the location held significance, if it would help you find him, you'd do it. You'd also hoped to potentially find Cerberus. There'd been no mention of the beloved, three-headed hellhound anywhere. Cerberus had existed independently of the brothers beforehand, so it would be strange not to find him. You'd feel bad for leaving him alone for so long, but if he was there, you knew he was probably alright. He'd probably need a good bath and a large treat, but you were almost certain it wasn't anything a little love couldn't fix. However, if he wasn't down there though, it would raise many new questions. You decided to cross that bridge when you got there and hope for the best.

Your entire trip had been filled with ifs. It would be impossible to answer every single one. When it grew hard to forge ahead, you just remembered who you were doing this for.

As you descended the stairs to the catacombs, your lungs filled with the damp, musty smelling air. After accidently stumbling into a cobweb, and nearly hacking your lungs out from inhaling dust, you were able to quickly tell nobody had been down in a while. At most, it had only been a month or two since the fire. It would just dusty, but surely not as dusty as it was. Solomon was by your side, making sure you were alright. As soon as you were able to convince him you were alright, you led the way through the crypt in search of Cerberus and Lucifer's grimoire. You'd encounter Cerberus before you'd even get wind of the grimoire, as it was the hellhound's job to guard it. As you grew closer, though, you were greeted with nothing more than the sound of your own footsteps echoing back at you.

"You don't hear anything, do you?" You whispered, despite not needing to.

"Curiouser and curiouser." Solomon stepped into the center of the large room you'd entered together. Just a couple rooms down, you'd be able to find the grimoire, yet still Cerberus was nowhere in sight. It seemed as if your worst fears had come true. Together, you continued into the room where Lucifer's grimoire sat on a pedestal. From a distance, it looked dusty, just like everything else in the room, but upon trying to brush it clean, you discovered it was the book itself crumbling. You could only gasp and recoil as part of what you touched disintegrated.

"This doesn't make any sense. This is so important to Lucifer. He'd never let anything happen to it." You were beyond frustrated.

"I don't quite understand this either. I had wanted take this home with us, but it seems as if that might not be happening." Solomon sighed and put a hand on his chin.

"Can't we just cast a preservation spell on it? Or maybe one that could restore it?" While you were the apprentice, you improved much since your training had began. You were willing to do whatever it took.

"I could, but we'd need to do it elsewhere. A restoration spell might do the trick, but that requires more work. A preservation spell would help us transport it, but I would be afraid I wouldn't be able to maintain it as well as I know I could. We're already keeping the house together with a spell of the same nature." Solomon explained. "My fear is that if we try to do both at the same time, they'll both respectively deteriorate." You gave his words some thought.

You spoke after a moment. "Then let me handle the spell for the book. You're doing most of the heavy lifting for the house." You felt as if Solomon was doing most of the work in keeping the house from falling apart. You wanted to feel more useful.

"Are you alright with that?" While he was enunciated clearly, you could see the worry creeping into his features.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to find answers. Based on everything we've seen so far, this is a lead that we can't afford to abandon." You could tell your words didn't comfort him, so you decided to say a little more. "I'll be alright, Sol. If I didn't think I could do it, I wouldn't offer." The two of you exchanged a warm smile.

"Just make sure you communicate any needs with me." Solomon let you step back towards the grimoire. You'd never put more effort into a spell. As soon as you'd finished casting it, you moved as fast as you'd let yourself to pick it up. You let out a mental sigh of relief when it didn't crumble in your hands. It was too large to fit in the backpack you'd brough along, so you clutched it close to your chest.

"Let's go home." You weren't sure how long you'd been in the house for at that point, but you search had been thorough, and that alone was enough to take everything out of you. You let out a sudden yawn.

"So you are tired?" Solomon nudged your shoulder.

"I never said I wasn't." You couldn't help but let out a snicker. His uncanny ability to lighten up a dark situation never failed to work on you. While he couldn't resolve the situation the two of you were in with a snap of his fingers, he could make it more bearable. If you had to be stuck with anyone, it would be him. As a pair, you made your way back the way you came. You kept your eyes peeled for any more useful clues, and signs of Cerberus but unfortunately, you weren't able to find any. The two of you were talking when Solomon suddenly cut himself off.

"What's the matter?" You studied him with intrigue. All of the whimsy from his features drained and they quickly set into something more serious.

"We need to teleport out of here, now." He forced you to make eye contact with him. You could practically smell the urgency.

"I thought that was too dangerous to do." In the past, you'd discussed this very topic in passing, but it was something you'd never forgotten just because of it's relevance.

"It isn't safe here anymore. I think the ceiling is about to collapse." Dust began to rain down on the two of you. Solomon deflected some bigger chunks with his cape.

"What happened? Our spell shouldn't have given in so easily." You found yourself having to practically yell due to the growing background rumbling.

"We can think about that later. We're leaving." He was already close to you, but he reached out and pulled you in until your head collided with his chest. He wasn't taking any chances. You chanced a glance up, and saw that the ceiling of the catacombs had cracks running the length of the chamber. It looked like piece directly above your head was about to give out at any second.

You held your breath and braced for impact.

tags list: @bagofmice

[crushpunky]

rafe x kook!reader - a drunken night (a cabin in the woods part 2)

inspired by "when we are together" by the 1975

Y/n had lined up countless activities for her and the boys throughout the week, everything from fishing to horseback riding and kayaking, all building up to the big hike on their final day. After a week of non-stop action, the boys were more than happy to find out y/n had factored in a “rest” day ahead of their hike.

The four of them had spent the day on the property, basking in the sun, playing cards, and shooting the shit. The heat of the day gave way to a chilly night, leading to them starting a fire near the small pond that sat on the property. Though she had brought her own jacket, y/n found herself reaching for Rafe’s sweatshirt once again as they sat around the fire. It was comfortable and warm, she had told herself. No other reasons, of course…

“That’s literally not true! There is no way in hell that you’ve done that!” Y/n laughed, taking a sip of the drink Topper had concocted from Kelce’s aunt and uncle’s liquor cabinet. Whatever it was, it was strong, and as the night grew on, she could really start to feel its effects.

“You’d be surprised, I’m a very adventurous guy.” Kelce said with a shrug. He had just finished recounting a story of how he had once snuck himself and a girl into the country club after hours, the two of them getting drunk in the bar before falling asleep on the golf course.

“Oh, please, Kelc. You don’t do shit.” Rafe said with a slightly drunken chuckle. As hesitant as she was to see him drinking, y/n figured it being only the four of them, and that he wasn’t doing anything worse, she’d let it slide. It had been a minute since she had seen him drunk like this, typically seeing him only when he was violently high or totally blacked out. It was a nice medium, his cheeks flushed and his demeanor a bit softer and without a trace of its usual grumpiness.

“I forgot we’re chatting with Mr. Adventurous over here.” Topper said, finishing the last of his drink before grabbing the pitcher that sat on the ground next to them. Rafe rolled his eyes, tossing an empty can at him. Topper looked back at him wide eyed and jumped to his feet, nearly stumbling into the fire.

“Hey! Hey!” Y/n shouted before the two started to drunkenly wrestle in the campfire, pulling Topper back into his seat.

“How about we settle this with a game of never have I ever?” Kelce said over the rim of his cup. Rafe and Topper groaned, but y/n grinned at Kelce’s avoidance of escalating the situation further.

“I’m not playing that shit.” Rafe said shortly, grabbing his beer and starting to get out of his seat. Y/n stopped him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. He turned to look at her for a moment, his eyes glassy from the drinks.

“Pleeeaaase.” Y/n sang playfully, tugging at his sleeve. Rafe paused for a moment, looking at her pleading, drunk expression, before relenting and sinking back into his chair with a huff.

“Why don’t you go first, Mr Adventurous.” Topper said, sitting up straight in his chair. Rafe scowled.

“Fine. Never have I ever kissed Sarah.” Rafe smirked wickedly, his eyes locked on Topper as he took a drink. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Kelce and y/n to do the same.

“Woah, woah, what the fuck?!” Rafe’s smirk evaporated, looking around at his three supposed “friends” exasperatedly.

“Yeah, what the fuck?!” Topper said, his face almost as equally angry as Rafe as he shot daggers at Kelce.

“It was a long time ago, dude. Like, middle school. Calm the fuck down.” Kelce laughed, his hands raised in surrender. Y/n giggled before she looked over at Rafe, who was staring at her, his hand gripping the arm of her camp chair.

“Are you serious?” Rafe said, his voice low and eyebrows raised.

“Oh come on! It was a dare at a party, or something, and we were both drunk… friends kiss all the time. It’s no big deal.” Y/n laughed nervously. She knew that Rafe and Sarah’s relationship was difficult, and as hard as it could be at times, she really did consider them both friends. She hadn’t thought of telling Rafe about it because it didn’t really matter. She did like a Cameron in that way, but it certainly wasn’t Sarah.

Rafe’s mind raced despite the alcohol clouding his brain. Was that how she had thought about their kiss at Midsummers? Just two friends kissing, “no big deal”? Of course that was how she thought of it, they were just friends. Obviously. Nothing more, nothing less…

“No they don’t!” Topper said loudly, nearly spilling his drink as he waved his hands around wildly.

“Yes they do! You’re telling me you guys have never kissed each other?” Y/n said which caused all the boys to collapse into fits of exaggerated gagging and shouting. Y/n rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink.

“Ok, ok! Next!” Y/n shouted over their dramatics, attempting to get back to the game. She looked over at Rafe, his eyes still stuck on her. Maybe she was overthinking it, but she swore she could see a twinge of something in his face before he looked away from her.

“Alright, fine,” Topper said, his voice slightly slurred, “never have I ever… gotten into a car accident.”

Rafe and Kelce took a drink silently, both of them glaring at Topper. Funnily enough, the “crashes” they were drinking for were actually one and the same. Shortly after getting his license, Kelce had rear-ended Rafe as he was stopped at a stoplight in downtown. Rafe had been pretty pissed at him for a month before Topper and y/n eventually forced the two of them to reconcile. Y/n laughed at the memory, perhaps a bit too much because of the alcohol buzzing through her body.

“Nice, Top.” Rafe said gruffly, taking a sip of beer.

“Ok,” Kelce said, “never have I ever… gotten so drunk I fell off the Druthers. Multiple times.”

“That’s cheating,” Topper said pointedly, but taking a drink nonetheless. It was almost a running gag how often he seemed to drunkenly fall off the boat when the four of them were out on the water, it often taking everyone to drag him back onto the deck.

“Alright, um…” Y/n looked around as she thought of an answer before her eyes caught on the pond, the moonlight giving it a soft glow.

“Never have I ever… gone skinny dipping.” Y/n said, looking away bashfully as the boys all quickly downed the rest of the drinks before shouting over each other.

“What?!” Kelce shouted, tossing his can into the fire.

“How can you fucking live in the Outer Banks and haven’t gone skinny dipping? That’s like, a right of passage!” Topper chuckled.

“I don’t know, I just… haven’t.” Y/n said quietly, feeling her cheeks burn slightly.

“Do you want to?” Rafe asked quietly, his drunken words betraying him before he even had a second to think. What kind of person asks that to their friend? Let alone their girl friend? She’s probably gonna slap the shit out of him and—-

“I mean… yeah, maybe one day.” Y/n responded with a shrug, the fabric of Rafe’s sweatshirt sagging under the action. She seemed nonchalant (or at least she hoped she did), answering his question matter-of-factly despite the slight fluttering it gave her in her stomach.

“Well… we do have a pond here…” Kelce said, a drunken grin on his face. Y/n glanced at Topper who raised his eyebrows before looking over at Rafe who looked at y/n, his expression unreadable. Perhaps if she wasn’t so buzzed on whatever shit Topper had made, she would’ve thought it a bit weird to go skinny dipping with her three guy friends, one of which she was head over heels in love with… but that certainly wasn’t the case as she rose from the camp chair and started sprinting towards the dock.

The alcohol in her veins spurred her forward as she shucked off her pants and Rafe’s sweatshirt, leaving them in the grass. She didn’t look back as she continued onto the dock, discarding her undergarments before she jumped into the pond. The cold water sucked the breath out of her as she came above the surface. On the edge of the dock, the boys stood hooting and hollering.

“It’s really fucking cold in here!” Y/n shouted, treading water. Topper and Kelce looked between each other for a moment before moving to take off their jackets. Y/n turned away from the dock until she heard a splash, the two boys entering the water. They resurfaced, their grins wide. Y/n looked back at the dock at Rafe who stood there alone, his clothes very much still on.

“Come on, Cameron!” Kelce shouted, beckoning Rafe into the water. Rafe shook his head with a laugh.

“Yeah, get in here Mr Adventure!” Topper egged him on, splashing some water towards the dock. Y/n looked up at him on the dock as Rafe ran a hand through his hair. He looked nervous, for some reason, almost embarrassed to join his three friends. His eyes met hers, the moonlight reflecting off the water and highlighting her dampened features beautifully. 

She bit her lip nervously. Should she say something? Encourage her friend to get in? Would Topper and Kelce think something was up if she didn’t? Would Rafe think something was up if she didn’t? It wouldn’t be any different than how Kelce and Topper were already in there, so why was she overthinking it? 

“Get in here, boy.” Y/n said quietly. Topper and Kelce hollered as Rafe took a deep breath before shrugging his jacket off. Once more, y/n turned until she felt water splash her face as Rafe jumped into the cold pond. He resurfaced, tossing his wet hair back with a grin. The four of them treaded water for a bit, laughing at the pure chaos of the situation, before the boys made their way towards the dock. Y/n remained in the water, the boys hauling themselves out of the water and onto the dock before putting their clothes back on their soaking and freezing bodies.

She tried to pull herself out but the freezing cold water mixed with the alcohol made her arms feel like jelly. She groaned, falling back into the water. Topper and Kelce had already started back towards the house, their arms slung over each other's shoulders as they stumbled drunkenly. Rafe, however, was still on the dock, pulling his t-shirt on.

“Rafe!” Y/n whispered harshly, causing him to whip his head towards her as he stepped closer to the end of the dock.

“What?” Rafe whispered back, seemingly oblivious to her situation.

“Can you— can you help me out?” Y/n whispered, feeling her cheeks heat up. She felt like an idiot, not being able to pull herself out of the water and now having to have her friend drag her naked body out. It was utterly humiliating.

“Y-yeah, of course.” He stammered, offering her his hand. She took it and pushed herself up towards the dock, Rafe pulling her all the way onto the wooden surface. She stumbled, getting her footing and looked back at Rafe, whose eyes were closed as he faced her.

“Thanks.” She said, grabbing her undergarments off of the floor and slipping them on as quickly as her drunken state could.

“You can, um, open your eyes now.” Y/n whispered and Rafe opened his eyes apprehensively. He felt his cheeks flush at the sight of y/n dressed so minimally, her teeth chattering from the cold. It’s not like it was anything he hadn’t seen before, 90% of the time the two of them were in bathing suits lounging in the sun, so why was he acting this way?

He turned back towards the grass where her clothes laid, jogging to go grab them before returning to the dock. She took them graciously and slipped them on, the fabric of Rafe’s sweatshirt sticking to her soaked skin.

“Sorry about getting your sweatshirt wet.” Y/n said quietly, looking down at the now soaking wet sweatshirt.

“It’s fine.” Rafe said shortly with a nod. The two of them stood there for a second, staring at each other silently.

“Well… how was your first skinny dipping experience?” Rafe asked.

“Good,” y/n exhaled. “Next time I’ll have to remember to, um, keep my stuff by the water.”

Rafe chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, the two of them falling back into a silence. Silences between them weren’t usually “awkward”, but something about the tension in this silence felt as close to “awkward” as ever. 

Was it the fact that she had kissed Sarah? Was he mad about that? She knew he was always so self conscious when it came to being compared to her, was he mad at her? Or was it because they had just gone skinny dipping, after which she asked him to get his sweatshirt? Did friends do that?

Did she think he was being weird when he gave her his sweatshirt to change into when she was already nearly naked? Did she think he was being awkward and weird? Did friends act like this around each other? Did friends do any of this?

“We should probably go to bed.” Y/n said quietly, finally breaking the silence and stopping each of their minds from racing any further.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Rafe whispered, swallowing harshly before offering his arm out to y/n. She took it graciously, the two of them drunkenly stumbling down the dock, arms interlocked.

Maybe they could talk about this in the morning, the tension and awkwardness that had been growing more and more since Midsummers. Maybe, when they were less drunk and soaking wet, things would be more obvious, whatever those “things” were. However, as she went to bed that night, y/n couldn’t help but think that “things” would never be obvious or easy for them.

[phoenixcatch7]

The One Fact Pact

I want to see a fic where the chain is rigorously keeping their secrets and stories hidden, but they've all learned to trust one another. Like, it's past time they should probably be sharing things because it's beginning to get annoying, they all agree, but it's sorta become a habit by now? They kept those secrets and now no one really wants to share first?

So, to keep things interesting and get some momentum going, they make a deal.

Whenever they come across something that reminds them of their travels, their quest - be it an item, a familiar name, a location - they've got to share ONE fact or story about it.

But only! When they're in other people's time, because otherwise it'll just be a staged tour and one person infodumping and that's exactly what they're trying to avoid (and it won't be a fun competition they can make bets about).

And then either they go through worlds slowly building trust and understanding of each other through a long drawn out and incidental series of tidbits....

Or they immediately get stuck in wild's hyrule for ages.

Everyone's arguing over who the latest ruin belongs to. Time and wind are getting into an argument about the kokiri. No one can agree on the zonai. Wars is taking immense pleasure in pointing out anything someone else might have missed. Legend is resolutely ignoring eventide. Twilight claims the entire faron woods until they step into the hot and humid jungle for the first time.

Wild thinks he's immune because it's his world so he legally can't answer questions, but everywhere they visit there's a piece of his own story in the rubble or on the wind.

Wild: *happily making tea and checking his slate with the other hand* okay, looks like tomorrow we can reach the breach of demise and to new serenne stable. Just past that- Sky: *choking on his drink* the what?? Wild: the breach? Sky, weakly: Why's it uh, called that? Wild: oh, it's an old story. Apparently eons ago it's where a demon godking came up from underground to the surface world... *suspiciously* Why? Sky: gimme the slate. *squinting at the shape on the map*... I can neither confirm nor deny. Wild:... What do you mean? Sky, remembering the One Fact Pact: I can neither confirm nor deny. What's important is that I killed him. The entire chain, variously: YOU KILLED A DEMON GOD?!!? Sky *recalling the hardest fight of his life*: what, like it's hard?

And then he just refuses to elaborate.

[tradingjack]

having fun with colors for once :P

thanks @creepycoffins for the awesome dtiys :D

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[wdapteo]

did you know that if you unlock a secret skill (entering the mindset that they're a real, announced couple) watching Dan and Phil videos is actually almost bearable? the more you know

[klanced]

I still have no idea how Veracxa actually played out in the show but I’m enamored by the idea that the team spends years fighting like the bitchiest most tenacious most androgynous lesbian ever. And then she becomes Lance’s sister-in-law.

[laughing-moonlight]

2004!Alan: So then he started choking me to death with my own hands in mid air

TOS!Alan & TAG!Alan: He did WHAT?!

2004!Jeff: So then he started choking Alan to death with his own hands in mid air

TOS!Jeff & TAG!Jeff: *looking horrified*

2004!Hood: So then I started choking Alan to death with his own hands in mid air

TOS!Hood & TAG!Hood: *nods of approval*

[maxthesillyy]

resisting to makes posts that r just.

look at this freak…………….

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[gonetoforks]

A bit of a hot take; I hope if Frida gets introduced properly with an official name, it will be something other than Frida?

(omg this rant became so long please read it tho i’m going insane)

I hope so because I feel like it would characterize her life (assumably) being raised by Big Mama a bit more, since her design tastes as we see through her hotel’s decor leans a lot towards old money art deco motifs combined with gothic architecture. I feel like Frida Kahlo’s primitivism and surrealism would be a bit out of character? Or at least a missed opportunity for some characterization.

(Okay maybe it’s not quite gothic but idc, let me speak-)

See here all the difference between Big Mama’s taste and Frida Kahlo’s paintings, I’m not saying she wouldn’t like her work, I just think that if Big Mama designs all her estates with such a clear creative vision & what seems to be her own personal tastes (*cough cough* old money ass fashion sense *cough cough*) I feel like she’d be more knowledgeable and/or more partial to a different area of the art world for Kahlo to be enough of her favorite to name her personal assistant/maybe I hope surrogate daughter after her?

I like to think if Big Mama named her after some artists she personally liked, I think she might lean more towards artists from the art deco scene like Tamara de Lempicka, or Sonia Delaunay.

Or maybe gothic architects could give her a name truer to the hidden city and battle nexus architecture that she’d’ve been surrounded by her whole life. All those gargoyles and sprawling jagged designs once you push past the illusion of Big Mama’s normal hotel front make such a dichotomy! Julia Morgan (the lady who designed California’s Hearst Castle which, “mixes Spanish Colonial, Gothic, Neo-Classical and Mediterranean Revival style all in one property.” I think that would be such a good combination of styles to reference with Big Mama’s choice on what to name this person omg) and Odile Decq are such pretty names!!

I love Odile Decq’s personal style and work on one particular building sm, the Phantom Restaurant of the Garnier Opera.

LIKE OMG THAT JUST SCREEAAAMMMS BIG MAMA, she would absolutely name a girl after the lady who’d design that and you cannot convince me otherwise. And Odile would fit in with “Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael” so well omg. And look at this woman, look at her style, she NEEDS a ninja turtle named after her omg.

And finally, a bit controversial but I never really liked the name Frida in the first place?

Don’t get me wrong, her work is legendarily meaningful and skillful. It’s just that in recent years, she’s been packaged and sold as this “girlboss feminist icon” because of her suffering, and because of that, her image in pop culture has kind of been watered down to the point where it feels like if they were to name her Frida, i’d think like, all the thought that went into it would be, “okay she’s a girl, what girl painters do we know?” Which (although well intentioned-) kinda feels like reverting back to stereotyping her as “the girl one” even though that’s what they were trying to avoid by not naming her Venus? If that makes sense? So I’m glad her name isn’t concrete yet lol.

And OMG I WANT HER NAME TO BE ODILE SO BAD NOW YOU DONT EVEN KNOW💖✨💝‼️✨ I only found her work literally as I was typing this but I just love that building and how much Big Mama would absolutely love that building, she needs to be named Odile, look at her face, that’s an Odile face <3

Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, and Odile, (and maybe Kirby? :D) i love itt