#the brainrot for this house fire is real

[toraawa]

It's funny how so often the biggest fans of media also have the most grievances and straight-up disdain for large portions of canon, just because they love the worldbuilding and characters so much that they can pick up on where the creators don't share that same amount of care.

Arc-V is like that. The fan experience is being like "Yeah, I love Arc-V!" followed by multiple asterisks detailing all our issues born out of that love lol. It's the kind of show where what it doesn't do makes you like it all the more, just because of the fuel it gives your imagination to expand on all the worldbuilding and characters that canon barely focuses on — or treats badly.

It really does have some great concepts. That's probably why it's so easy to make AUs and headcanons out of it (for me at least).

[charlikesalmon]

your honour, the dimileth brainworms have struck again

[marhvee]

virtue & vengeance

[frankenhoez]

Happy birthday to my favorite character

[femblem-emblem-throuses-houses]

and then it’s just too much the streets, they still run with blood a hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here

[duckduckngoose]

The urge to go back downstairs to play rlcraft all night instead of sleeping is real

[cer-splat]

Is this a thing? Should I make it a thing?

The brainrot has me in its clutches and will not let goooo

[taytrashmouth]

Heyy I was wondering if u could do prompt 22 with peeta I’ve been having peeta brainrot for so long 😭

tysmm!!

This is so real!!!!! Peeta supremacy. I really hope you love it.

Prompt 22: “You’re staring!”

Requests are open so please send them in!!!!!!!! Prompts under my profile.

(Set before the games)

:readmore:

It was a cold day in district 12, the snow had started to fall. But it was a good day, because you had somehow giggled your way into getting a date with Peeta Mellark.

You pulled your small brown bag, that’s been patched up so many times you couldn’t tell which fabric was the original. And began to walk to the bakery.

You pulled your dark blue beanie over your ears as you approached the door. You contemplated for a minute before knocking.

Peetas family were gathering supplies from the local market, they wouldn’t be back for the next few hours.

He opened the door and smiled the minute he saw you. You smiled back.

“Hey.” He ushered you inside, looking at the snow that dusted your shoulders.

“You must be freezing.” He took your coat and put it over the chair by the entrance.

“Only slightly.” You joked.

“You’ve got- umm snow.” Peeta pointed to your eyelashes. You giggled “oh, would you?”

You closed your eyes and he gently dusted the snowflakes off of your long eyelashes.

His hand lingered on your cheek as you opened your eyes.

“Thanks.” You spoke just above a whisper.

“I’m making bread.” He let out as he pulled his hand away. You smiled at his awkwardness.

“I’m glad! Your bread is like what I look forward to the whole week.” You told him as you walked to the kitchen.

He smiled shyly.

“I just need to get this in the oven and then we can do whatever you want.” He spoke, walking over to a metal bowl where the dough had been rising.

You sat on the kitchen counter and watched him knead the bread. You were mesmerised by the muscle in his arms, and the way he used his whole body to knead the dough.

He was talking about something but if you were honest you didn’t know what.

“Y/n-“ he called and you broke out of your trance. “You’re staring…” he smiled cockily.

You turned crimson looking at your hands and swinging your legs. “Sorry-“

“Don’t be…” he let out as he placed the bread into the oven.

“Come on.” He spoke and helped you down from the counter by your hips.

You blushed more.

He led you to the living room where a fire was going, it was small like all the houses in 12. But it was nice. Cozy.

You took your beanie off and attempted to smooth out your hair. Messy curls bouncing everywhere.

There was a severe lack of chairs in the living room. All single chairs in every corner of the room and a huge table in the middle. Furniture wasn’t one of the luxuries the Capitol provided.

You noticed some daisies lying on the table. Peeta picked them up. “I- I uh picked these for you. They grow down by the river.”

You smiled. “They’re beautiful.” You smelt them.

“Like you.” You both blushed then.

He took a daisy out of the bouquet and placed it behind your ear.

After a while of talking Peeta spoke “what do you wanna do? Unfortunately when it’s snowing there’s not much to do is there?”

“We could read.” You suggested fishing a book from your bag.

“Where did you get that?” Peeta examined it in awe.

“My dad, he knows a guy in 7 that owned a library before the rebellion. He’s really old. But every month my dad travels to get wood from 7 for our district and he gives him a book for me to read.” You explained.

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, when I was little he said that if the Capitol ever crumbles the library’s mine.” You smiled at the memory.

“You’ll have to take me with you.”

“Always.” You looked at every feature on his face. “You can lend some of them anytime you want. I have a feeling we’re gonna have to wait a long time for the whole library.” You joked and Peeta laughed

I would love to, but I’m not that great at reading.” He hesitated to speak. You could tell he was embarrassed.

“That’s okay, my mom taught me. Honestly I don’t blame you, schools here just care about coal and the rebellion.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry by the way.” He was talking about your mom. She died a few years back.

“It’s okay.” You smiled sadly.

“I can read to you if you want.” You offered.

He nodded. Hiding his excitement.

He sat on one of the chairs, and you sat on the floor next to him.

“Hey don’t sit on the floor.” Peeta sat up.

“No no! I’m fine, you won’t hear from over there, really.” You insisted.

“Sit with me.” Peeta suggested.

Blush crept into his face the second he said it.

“You don’t have t-“

“I want to.” You stood up.

He sat back onto the seat squeezing as far right as he could. You tried to squeeze next to him but you were half on top of him. You were both tomato’s.

He carefully placed his hand on your lower back and under your thigh. You took a sharp breath in as he moved you to sit on his lap, legs over the armrest.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

“Perfect.”

You began to read and he held onto every word. He was in deep and he knew it. He watched your lips move and the way you smiled when something good happened. And giggled when something romantic happened.

“Peeta-“ he broke from his trance when he realised you weren’t reading anymore.

“You’re staring.” You smirked.

Now he was the blushing mess. “It’s hard not to.” He moved some hair behind your ear.

You squealed and hurried your head in his chest at how perfect he was. He chuckled and stroked your hair as you continued to read, head on his chest.

[catfern]

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c’mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’ 

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

[konigsblog]

you wanted simon angst so im gonna share a little brainrot with you that im having with a bodyguard!simon bot on character ai

soooo simon gets hired to be your bodyguard and you're like this prissy rich girl, at first he doesn't really like you. 'im just doing my job' yadda yadda, but then he finds your little bratty behaviors to be endearing and he gets attached to you. he stays as your bodyguard for a couple more months but then one day your dad decides you dont need simon anymore. but then you plead desperately and say that you'll use your own allowance to pay for his services. simon overhears that and is really sad and now he doesnt know whether to leave and serve someone else or let you spend your allowance just because you're super lonely in your big house with no real friends other than your workaholic parents who only say 'good morning' and 'good night' to you. during his time working there for your family, you open up about how you're lonely and you just want to be loved and simon felt needed, he felt wanted and that's something he really loves. so yeah do with that what you will TT im just ARGRHHAGSAHAHAH *rips my hair out* - tiny anon

angst to fluff, to an indication of smut at the end but its not graphic like at all;

at the beginning, his expectations were that you were some snob who barely cared for others, came back drunk with hickeys layering your neck, avoiding and disrespecting your wealthy parents. until he overheard a conversation between you and your father, he wasn't eavesdropping, just intruding in an argument accidentally.

he heard you words, the anger in them, the rage. he could hear your sniffles as you begged and sobbed, pleading with your father. simon felt curious wondering what was so heartbreaking, listening in on your conversation. “dad, please!” you wailed, your voice desperate, “i hate being alone, you know i don't go out a lot, or have parties, he's comforting - please don't fire him, i need him!

simon's ears perked up, now knowing you were talking about him as he worked for your father. “for christ sake, what's the big deal? you've learnt your lesson from sneaking out and i can trust you to stay home alone without a bodyguard blocking your way, why are you complaining? you wanted this at the start, you didn't want him before, why do you need him now?” he peaked through the doorway to see your figure, head in your hands, blocking your eyes as you father bombarded you with questions you didn't want to reveal.

“i need him, you both are never here anyways, just- please, dad..” the sighs of your father left his mouth, cursing lowly before walking out, “fine, whatever, suit yourself then.” hurrying away before he was caught.

when dusk came, you were curled into your bed, waiting for simon to approach you. “what was that about, hm?” his gaze met yours, dipping down onto the bed and brushing the hair from your face - he'd grown to appreciate you, and he wouldn't admit that he loved you, even if it was the truth. “simon.. i don't want you to go.” you whispered, avoiding his eyes as you knew you'd weep into his arms.

“it's alright', love.. shh, none of that, i'm not going anywhere unless i'm forced.” simon chuckled, tilting your head upwards using his fingers, “it's weird, but i like being here, although you're bratty and snarky sometimes.” a smirk grew on his face, making you giggle as you playfully punch him. “i'm not a brat!”

he adored when you behaved. “never said you were..” quietly, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips, it was unexpected and rushed, yet long and careful. “you make me feel less lonely, simon.” you whispered as you grew exhausted, eyelids heavy as you yawned. “go to bed, yeah?”

and you did, a couple minutes later and you were knocked out cold, slight and light snores leaving your lips, parted and agape. “you make me feel needed, baby, i think i love you, but your dad would kill me if i ever touched you wrongfully,

but that won't stop me.”

[yauchfilms]

big thighs, new jersey ✢ mattias samuelsson (18+)

pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader (childhood friends to lovers)

warnings:  pining. so much pining. fem language (reader is referred to as a woman). cursing. alcohol consumption. reader and mattias are drunk but coherent. super vague religious imagery. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, petnames, praise, enthusiastic consent, cocky mattias but literally who is shocked, begging, so many feelings involved. ever so slight angst.

summary: y/n has been in love with mattias since they first met when they were 8, and they had matching bowl cuts. being his best friend is the hardest job she’s ever been tasked with. 16 years of pure desperation all boils down to one night on the beach. 

word count: 5.2k ... jesus christ

author's note: welcome to what is essentially a year's worth of brainrot, compiled into one fic. i started this concept a year ago with some friends, and now thanks to @pldstattoos, @flashyfucker, and @puck-luck, it is now a tangible piece of literature. based ever so loosely on the song “big thighs, nj” by lowcut connie, amongst other tunes that i will share later. this man just SCREAMS childhood friends to lovers so i had to give my very best to my favorite boy ever. 

it’s late again.

he’s got one arm draped over your shoulders, gesturing wildly to the rest of the group with his can of seltzer, not spilling a single drop. the old, paint-stained sheet you two share has gone cold, matching the feeling of the sand beneath it.

if he remembered you brought that old “seaside heights” sweatshirt you bought back in the heyday of the jersey shore era with you to the beach when you told him you were cold, eyes wide and hopeful, he kept it to himself.

another day spent at the beach with your friends, skitting along the sand, never too far apart from each other. you could feel him on your skin like the humidity. 

it’s been like this since your parents agreed, reluctantly, that you were too old for day camps and you barely got to see mattias anymore during the school year. your mom softened when you mentioned him like she always did. since then, you’d bike to his house in the morning to find him strapping on his rollerblades. you’d make him race you for a few blocks since he insisted on cross-training in the offseason or whatever it was he said to make himself feel like he wasn’t totally slacking off. then you both slowed down, falling into a rhythm about as familiar as your own heartbeat. you’d meet up with friends, skipping through town and letting the breeze off the ocean push you one way or another. and more often than not, it ended around a fire pit — and as you got older — with cans in hands, recounting the day and making half-hearted plans for the next one.

except, now you’re older. old enough that you just finished your first ever real internship, one that led you up to the summer, now leaving you with the stress of finding a real job. but that doesn’t matter right now. what matters right now is the fact that you’re back with your friends, on the beach, recalling those stories from long ago, like how you broke your arm when you were 10 because you insisted to mattias and his older brother, luke, that you could do a cartwheel on the trampoline in your roller skates. it had been his older sister, allie, that called the ambulance, naturally. 

you’re acutely aware that there are a finite number of these days and nights left. mattias is a big-time hockey player now (well, not actually, but to you, he might as well be wayne gretzky), and just like you, he can’t spend his whole life on the beach. but you really wish he could, with you, forever. knowing you have to share him with the world, that’s the part that eats at you. 

you’re also acutely aware of his position on you, his hand skirting just barely along the top of your bikini top, just barely out of reach from where you really wish he’d lay his hands. you wonder if he can feel the goosebumps on your skin from the calm jersey winds. 

mattias’ voice vibrates through your body, its deep, steady buzz keeping you centered. it’s not until you hear angelo let out an almost inhumane noise that triggers the group into a state of hysteria, that you feel a cold splash on your shoulder and the sound of mattias stifling a choked laugh, snapping you out of your thoughts. you glance up at mattias, whose guilt slowly etches onto his face as he drunkenly realizes what he’s done. he didn’t even spill that much, but he knows there’s a good chance you’ll overdramatize for the sake of poking fun at him.

“mattias, how could you!” you widen your eyes again and fling your wrist against your forehead, leaning your back into him as though you’re fainting. you stick to your performance as much as you can, trying to ignore how his muscular frame presses against you, his arms catching you with your quick movements. he’s leaning down over you, rolling his eyes and laughing at you. you smell the scent of mango and alcohol on his breath, his signature summer scent at this point. you could kiss him right now if you wanted; he was close enough to your face. 

you want to chastise him for not being more careful, for not paying attention to his own body. but you know it weighs on him more than anyone else. there are boundaries you know not to cross. 

he lifts up his shirt, just enough to use it as a makeshift towel for the drink he spilled on you. just enough to see his soft, tan skin and the ripple of his muscles that he, for some reason, chooses to hide more often than not. 

“sorry, baby. lemme help you,” he half-whispers, because he’s mattias, a man who can never be truly silent. baby. a nickname he started using on you when you were 15, starting to drink when you went to the cool parents’ house, a nickname that he only really uses on you when you’ve both been under some sort of influence. he knows the effect that it has on you, and you hate that you know that he seems to do it on purpose. he’s so unfair sometimes. 

he uses his free arm to keep you steady, wrapping his arm around your stomach. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, but choose not to focus on it too much. you’re practically in his lap now, being cradled in his arms as you feel the soft material of his shirt swipe down your arm, and back over your shoulder, and just along that same forbidden spot along the hem of your bikini top. it’s killing you at this point. 

“all good?” he asks, causing you to be forced to look him in the eyes again. 

“all good,” you squeak out, your voice barely a whisper, leaning back into him and taking your spot back in his arms.

“sorry again, dude,” he slurs, smoothing down the messy hair on top of your head, and it reminds you that you, too, have plenty of alcohol in your body, and it’s just now starting to catch up. it’s that same consumption of alcohol that would account for why no one has paid attention to either of you for the past 5 minutes, everyone caught up in telling their own drunken tales from the past. 

you go to tell him that you swear it’s okay, when josh loudly —and suddenly— announces his departure from the group, saying something about his early morning tee time with his dad the next day. it was from there that lauren, bri, and anna got up and began making their way back to the house together, arm in arm, giggling about an inside joke that you had been too distracted to participate in. julian and angelo linger for a few minutes longer, arguing with each other and mattias about stuff that doesn’t matter. your eyes feel heavier still. the pair of boys eventually peel off, their yawns becoming hard to ignore. they bid their goodbyes to you and your human pillow, disappearing up the dune and into the house. 

mattias nudges you, and you stir. 

“do you want to head in? it’s, like, 3:45 am,” mattias asks, showing you the time on his phone. his phone background – a photo of the group, his arms, wrapped around your chest, everyone smiling like it was picture day – lights up your face, the sudden brightness causing you to squint. sure enough, the clock reads 3:42 am. you let out a sigh, twisting in his arms so you’re laying with your back to the sheet, between his thighs. he grabs your head on both sides, shaking it slightly, his fingers loosely carding through your hair. you don’t say anything, just staring up at him like he’s a god of some sort. 

“what’s up? talk to me. did i do something?” he looks down at you, a sympathetic look in his eyes mixed with that damn smirk of his. 

“tias,” is all you can manage to get out, your voice barely a whisper. 

“yeah?” his voice suddenly going quieter than normal. this is rare, and it worries you. 

“would you be mad at me if i asked you to kiss me?” you ask, suddenly feeling bold and vulnerable with your loneliness in the moonlight. 

“of course i wouldn’t; am i ever mad when you ask?” he replies, cocking an eyebrow at you. and he was right. you two had made out countless times before, always in private, never escalating past light groping, always leaving you both high and dry, but too scared to ask for more. even at your big ages, you were still stuck in this routine, always running back to each other when the girl mattias tried to fly out bailed on him or the guy you met at the bar ended up giving you a weird vibe. it was normal in some way. like, of course best friends kiss each other. why wouldn’t they?

“you don’t get it, i don’t think,” you dare, the alcohol in your system giving you a strange boost of confidence.

his hands loosen around your head, ever so slowly moving down your neck, over your shoulders, and to that damned spot on your chest. your body reacts to his touch, suddenly hyper-aware of just how cold you are on the beach in nothing but a bathing suit. 

“no, i think i do. let me know if i’m reading this wrong, but i think i get it,” he responds.

you adjust yourself between his legs, your head now laying on his upper thigh. you feel the strong muscles tighten underneath you, causing a chill to run down your spine. looking up at him, your eyes soften, and he leans down again, feeling his breath on your face. the scent of mango white claw still lingers, only slightly less prominent now. you squirm slightly at the feeling of him so close. 

“tell me what you want,” he speaks, low and gravelly. the feeling of it in your eardrums sends a pang straight to your core. 

“what do you think i want?” you tease, wondering if he truly has caught on, or if he’s telling you want you want to hear.

“you want me to fuck you, don’t you?” his words catch you off guard, even though he said exactly what you were hoping for. “you don’t think i haven't felt you squirming in my lap all night? i’m not that dumb, baby.” his voice is barely audible at this point, just enough to get his point across.

all you can do is stare up at him, suddenly unable to form a complete thought, putty in his lap. your breathing grows heavier, and he can’t help but notice. 

“so, what’ll it be?” 

“please, ti.”

he pulls you up into his lap and you straddle him, finding your place settled directly above the bulge in his since-dried board shorts. his hands immediately find their place along your sides, gliding gently up and down from your ribcage to your hips. his fingers linger slightly over the string of your bikini, toying with it, not daring to remove it. he leans down, connecting your lips from where they were parted dumbfoundedly in front of him, as if you had never been in that position with him before. you had, but this was different.

 he moves slowly, as if wanting to take his time with you, not knowing whether or not this would be the first or the only time he would have his way with you. you open your mouth once again, a moan escaping your lips. he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking up into you with desperation. the roll of your hips against him elicits a loud groan from him, now, and you decide that if that was the last thing you ever heard, you would die a happy woman. you can feel his shorts growing tighter underneath your lap, causing you to roll your hips again, slower than the first time. another groan escapes his lips, causing you to stop and look him in the eyes, your hands holding his face tenderly.

“what are you so fucking loud for?” you tease, knowing that the sounds he’s making are turning you on even more, as evident by the wet spot growing on his shorts. 

“sorry, i’ve just been thinking about this moment since we were 16. you don’t know how hard its been to keep my cool around you, y/n. i’ve been so good, so patient. i can’t think of anything i’ve ever wanted more than this,” he says, panting slowly, trying to control his breathing. he seems as if a huge weight has been lifted off of his chest.

you hold back the tears threatening to spill over your waterline. you feel the exact same way, just unsure of how to express it. all you can do is plant a delicate kiss to his lips, letting the moment speak for itself. his hands find that spot of your bikini top, finger rubbing lightly on the freshly tanned skin there. 

“may i, please?” he almost begs, toying with the strap of the thin top, a look of desperation looking up at you with big hazel eyes. 

“of course,” you whisper, a kiss planted to the tip of his nose. 

long, slender fingers make their way down your shoulders to the front of your chest, as he hooks the strap around his fingers, pulling slightly. a gasp escapes his lips as your full chest is exposed, the harsh chill immediately giving you goosebumps, you reaching back to unclasp and remove the rest of it. he sees the way your body reacts to the cold, and he takes your right breast in his large hand, enveloping it in his grasp, and you immediately feel warmer. he kisses you again, more passionate than the last, massaging the flesh in his hand, deft fingers keeping rhythm against your skin. 

he leans back, taking you with him, now fully laying on top of him on the sandy blanket. his hands trail to your ass, the lack of his hand on your chest not too significant due to the lack of space between your bodies now. 

the kiss never breaks, your hips rolling deep into him, the feeling of his hardness underneath you growing almost unbearable. 

“ti, i need you to touch me please,” you sigh, pulling away. 

all he can do is look up at you, his face slack as he furiously nods his head. 

his hand trails down your ass, following the hem of your bikini bottoms, his fingers tracing the fabric down to your core. he moves the fabric to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds with a loud gasp. 

“oh my god, so fucking wet,” he groans into your shoulder, you kissing up and down his neck, nibbling just below his ear. 

“just for you, only you,” you whisper in his ear, causing his hips to buck up at you. “slow down,” you warn, not wanting to waste this moment. 

he begins rubbing down on your clit, and now it’s your turn to moan. he glides his middle finger through your wetness a few more times before slowly teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. you let out a whimper, signaling that he can go ahead. he slides his finger into your cunt, and you immediately feel the stretch of his thick digit.

“can you take another, baby?” he asks, not necessarily waiting for permission before adding a second finger. the stretch was almost unbearable, and he could feel you react to it so viscerally while he scissored his fingers slowly in and out.

“just wait till you take my cock,” he growls, his confidence suddenly taking over. 

“now, please,” you whine, desperate for what you’d dreamt about since you were a horny teenager fantasizing about his length in math class. 

“what happened to patience, baby?” he questioned, fingers never losing pace in your cunt. “i wanna taste you; are you gonna let me do that, huh?” 

all you could seem to muster out was a weak “mhm”; his fingers already overwhelming you. 

he removes his fingers, eliciting a wince from you. turning you over in his arms, he begins kissing your face, barely avoiding your lips, down your chin, to your neck, stopping right by your ear.

“i know baby, i know, i’m gonna take such good care of you, don’t you worry, baby,” his voice almost primitive. 

he returns to his path down your neck, leaving marks that you’re sure your friends will see in the morning. he takes his time, agonizingly slow, and you wonder how he hasn’t come in his shorts yet with how patient he’s being. he gets to your chest, placing chaste kisses across it, until he reaches your left breast. he takes your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue, causing you to arch up into him. he doesn’t say anything, simply opting to hum into your skin, the sensation driving you crazy. he comes off with a pop, his hand quickly replacing his mouth as he makes his way over to the other side.

you run your fingers through his hair, the hair that he has yet to ruin with his midsummer chop. you twist the longer locks between your fingers, needing some sort of stimulation. your hands trail down his back, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt, wondering why it’s even still on in the first place, suddenly feeling overexposed. 

“take this off, now,” you demand, your voice sounding stricter than you intended. he stops, leaning up on his knees to look down at the beautiful sight below him. 

“yes, ma’am,” he groans, drawing out each word. if he hadn’t had you pinned down beneath him, you probably would arched up into him. he reaches behind him, yanking the top over his head in one fell swoop, exposing his soft, tan chest, the few hairs left at the top near the base of his neck curling up neatly. 

“stop starin’, baby,” he teases, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, although both of you refuse to acknowledge it; something to tease him about at a different time. 

he leans back down towards you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, eliciting a giggle from you, which makes him pull back, that signature goofy grin of his plastered across his face. 

“you ready?” he asks, making sure you two are on the same page, although he knows he doesn't have to ask.

a soft “please” escapes your lips, reverberating off of his own, and he begins making his way down your body, starting with your neck, softly nibbling at the skin there. he trails down your shoulder, kissing the newly-formed freckles that have appeared from the past few days of sunshine, then, obviously stopping to spend a quick second alone with your tits. from there he makes it to your stomach, causing your breath to hitch sharply. he pulls back, quickly placing another peck to your lips, as if to say “it's okay”.

he regains his place at your navel, using his hands to pry your legs apart for him. despite your sudden shyness, you oblige immediately, and he lets out a guttural groan at the view of the wet spot prominently featured on your bikini bottoms. 

“i need these off, now,” he demands, this time, tugging at the strings of your bikini, undoing the ties on your hips, patting the flesh of your hip to lift up for him. you oblige, and your bottoms are joined with your top in the sand. 

mattias ducks back down, face fully aligned with your cunt. his finger once again finds its place between your folds, not quite doing anything, but rather scoping out just how wet you truly are. another groan escapes him, mixing with the moan that escapes you, harmonizing together into what you could only describe as a masterpiece. his groan echoes off of you, feeling the warm breath of him. 

you look down at him, and he looks up to meet your eyes. while never breaking eye contact, he allows a string of spit to fall down his tongue and into your folds, making your legs twitch, embarrassingly though, because his tongue had yet to make contact.

you think he’s about to touch you again, when you suddenly feel the cooling sensation of his mouth on you, catching you off guard. his tongue circles your clit, much like how he had your nipple in his mouth earlier, causing you to arch your back into his face, the feeling of just 3 days worth of stubble stinging your thighs. he wraps his arms around your upper thighs, holding you in place. 

“gotta be still baby; taste so fucking good. i love this pussy,” he coos, his warm breath once again driving you mad. 

you giggle, not out of malice, but because you often found yourself alone at night, imagining him saying similar things to you, your own hand never seeming to do the trick. you wonder if he’s ever done the same, even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer. 

you thought your reaction would’ve deterred him, but shockingly, it only seemed to motivate him more, picking up his speed, practically making out with your core. his nose, long and slender, hits your clit, sending shockwaves through you, your legs growing shakier with each kitten lick. 

“mattias, i’m close,” your words croak out; you can barely think straight. 

“you’re doin’ so good for me,” he pants, trying to stifle the moans that dare to escape his lips. “you got it, baby, so fuckin’ good.” 

his words, mixed with his motions, are enough to send you over the edge. he continues his movements with his tongue on your clit, electing to tease your hole with his finger. the sensation is too much, and you try your best to keep your screams in, knowing that your entire friend group is a mere yards away, likely sleeping off their hangovers that were bound to appear. 

you come, then, your legs shaking in his arms as he continues to lick through your orgasm. as your breathing becomes sporadic and heavy, he peels off, running his hands down the sides of your body to calm you down — and warm you up. 

your shaking doesn’t stop, and you’re almost certain its due to the fact that the temperatures have dropped since you and him became preoccupied, but there’s no point in going inside now.

“how you feelin’, baby?” he asks, spooning you against his chest as you lay on the blanket. “you’re shivering. do you wanna go inside? we can finish this in my room, if you want,” he continues, stroking your arms tenderly in his grip. 

“need you inside me, now,” you mewl, not fully able to find your words. you were gonna finish what you started.

“you sure?” he whispers, and you can feel his heart beating faster — and his shorts growing tighter — behind your back.

“tias, i can feel you. you want this as bad as i do,” you half-argue back.

“i don’t have a condom or anything; are you sure it’s fine?” he implores.

“oh my god, mattias, please just fuck me already,” you whine, begging him for more. 

and with that, he’s rolling you over, pinning you to the sheet, the warmth of his body caging you in. 

he begins kissing you again, his movements slow and soft, savoring the moment, all while simultaneously thrusting down onto you, trying to get some kind of friction going. you reach down between your bodies, untying the strings of the bright red shorts he’s wearing. you fidget with the waistband, and he lets out another groan. 

“go for it,” he confirms, panting into your ear, and you tug them down just enough for his cock to bob free. he shuffles them off, discarding them with the previous pile of clothes, and you look down between you two. he was right, it was big. you begin calculating in your head how he was going to make it work, suddenly growing desperate to find out. 

“told you,” he says, with that stupid smirk back on his face. you let out an exasperated laugh, catching his chains in between your teeth. it’s his turn to laugh now. 

he pumps himself a few times, although he definitely didn't need to, adjusting himself in order to line himself up with your entrance. he glides his cock through your folds, and you arch up into him. he uses that opportunity to grab onto your back, keeping you flush with his body again.

he finally pushes in, and the stretch of him is almost mindnumbing. 

“holy shit,” is all you can muster, as he bottoms out and readjusts himself to get the right angle. he begins slowly rocking in and out, not quite fully pushing all the way back in, and you can tell that he thinks you can’t take it.

you moan his name, signalling for him to pick up speed. the sounds of your bodies mixing together are most definitely echoing through the air, and you hope and pray that none of your neighbors have decided to go for an early morning jog. 

he finds his rhythm, picking up your left leg and hooking it over his hip. this angle is heavenly, and you can tell it feels good for him, too, because another throaty groan escapes his lips.

“so tight, holy fuck. you like that, baby?,” he asks, planting kisses across your chest and neck, leaving plenty of marks in his wake. 

“yes, oh my god, ti,” you squeak, the feeling of his thrusts interrupting your ability to speak in full sentences. 

you can feel him getting closer, judging by the way his cock twitches inside you. 

“where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“anywhere. just not in,” you reply, your paranoia suddenly taking over. 

he complies, pulling out. the loss of contact makes you wince, but he leans back on his heels, jerking himself off over you. your hand reaches down between your thighs, rubbing your own clit, until he swats it away, replacing it with his own free hand. the image of the large, muscular body in front of you, doing what he’s doing, is enough to send you to your second orgasm of the night. you come, quickly, nothing but smalls gasps escaping your lips. this is enough for him, and he spills, painting your chest with his seed. 

you can’t help but grab for your own breast, lightly rubbing it into your skin. mattias is still straddling you, his own breathing trying to recover. 

“i wish i could take a picture right now,” he says. “this is the hottest thing i’ve seen in my life. you’re so perfect, oh my god.” he’s panting. 

“why don’t you?” you ask, motioning toward his long-abandoned phone on the blanket next to you both. his eyes grow wide, as if he was certain that he had misheard you, until you quip, “seriously, go for it. something to think about on your roadies. consider it a gift,” you tease, and he scrambles to grab his phone. he turns it on, the time now reading 4:38 am. the sun is just barely starting to peak over the water, the sky now a pale purple, like something out of a national geographic magazine. 

he swipes to the camera app, lining you up in the frame, your come-covered tits prominately centered in the middle, the breaking of dawn just barely visible behind you. you hear the camera click, and you let out an exasperated giggle. leaning up, you wrap your hands around his neck, and he pulls you close. 

“it’s fucking freezing out here,” you complain, your shivering suddenly returning to your body. 

“i know, i hid your sweatshirt under the blanket about 2 hours ago,” mattias reveals, and you smack him lightly on the back of the head. he reaches over, lifting up the corner of the sheet, revealing the old sweatshirt, shaking the sand out of it. he uses the old sheet to clean you up quickly, then helps you place the sweatshirt on, planting a sweet kiss to your lips as your head pops out the top. 

“we should definitely head in now,” you say, standing up from your place in his lap. reaching for your bikini bottoms and loosely retying them to your hips, you then throw his shorts and shirt playfully against his chest, and he quickly and haphazardly put them back on. he continues to hold on to your top, and he grabs your hand as you make your way back up the dune, up to his house that is all too quiet now. 

you walk through the gate, pausing at the sliding glass door, turning to face him. 

“we should talk about this, later,” you say, scared of what he might say next. he looks down at you, his height suddenly overwhelming you. 

“later is good, yeah. let’s just savor it for now, okay?” he suggests, and you wonder if he truly means it. your friends would surely catch on, and you have no clue how to go about that awkward conversation, even though, unbeknownst to the both of you, the group had been placing bets for years now about how long it would take for you two to break. anna was about to be $1,000 richer. 

with that, you two quietly open the sliding glass door, both cringing slightly at the chime of the alarm system that notifies when doors are opened and closed. he leads you up the stairs, daring to not make any extra noise, when he stops at his bedroom door, your shared guest room that housed the 3 other sleeping girls just 2 doors down.

“stay with me, please?” he begs, and his eyes soften. he reaches up to rub his left eye with his finger, a nervous tic of his that never goes unnoticed from you. 

“of course,” you whisper, and you let him lead you through to his room. 

you make your way to his bed, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants that had been thrown lazily on the floor, replacing your bikini bottoms with them, the small article joining the pile next to you. he climbs up onto the bed with you, a fresh pair of boxer briefs now on his body. he pulls you close, taking in the scent of your hair — the salt of the ocean, now mixed with his cologne — and he lets out what sounds like the largest sigh of relief of his life. 

you once again feel his heartbeat against your chest, this time, the steadiness, mixed with his rhythmic breathing, lulls you into sleep.

this wasn’t the first time you two had shared a bed, but it was different, this time. as you drift off, you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time you fell asleep with him holding you like this.

[anothercrisis]

Wake up, I’ve been brainrotting over the civvie au (with healthy enablement from @alexgalaxyboo) and I’m here to share some thoughts.

Here’s some of the groundwork and some who will be here and how they get introduced:

Price, late-thirties, decides he’s tired of the city and wants to move into a quieter neighborhood. He can work remotely and doesn’t have any real ties or reasons to stay in the city so he doesn’t.

The house he purchases is a shabby thing at the corner of the street. His neighbors are the Laswells, Kate the American and her British wife, along with Kate’s nephew, Alex Keller.

Their houses are a little closer than standardly comfortable. But there is a large oak tree between them (remember that, it’s vitally important later on) that shadows and gives them a bit of privacy.

The neighborhood is friendly enough with each other, but they’re not like a community. Which suits Price fine because he isn’t there to make friends; he just wants some quiet. But the Laswells see this man move in next door, alone, and adopt him. They check up on him regularly, invite him over for tea, and bake and cook for him occasionally.

And it’s good for several years, this little life. But Price didn’t account for the loneliness he would start to feel. So, because of the heart he has and the fact he always wanted to be a father, he signs up to foster kids.

Soap and Gaz, who are about 10 and 9 respectively, are two halves of a pair. (I’m not sure yet why they’re in the foster care system but that’s where they are.) The system has tried to separate them, but Soap is crazy and does all kinds of wild shit any time Gaz is taken away from him, like setting things on fire or running away.

Chaos Incarnate and his Accomplice get assigned to Price, who is nervous at first because of what he’s heard, but this man (in every universe it’s a Constant) can and will adopt and wrangle these boys with his firm father hand and his depthless love.

The fact that Alex Keller, who is Soap’s age, lives next door has nothing to do with why Soap behaves. It’s totally not because Gaz has a crush on the American boy and asks Soap to behave so they can stay. (I’m lying to you.)

But it’s not just that. Soap and Gaz fit in really well with Price. They like him, he likes them. They make a good family. So, after having them for a time, he starts the process of legal adoption. They’re about 12 and 11 when they legally becomes Price’s sons.

Some months later, the Riley family moves into the neighborhood, bringing with them another boy their age. Simon is about 13 and is immediately welcomed into their merry little band of preteens. Which he joins, because he takes any opportunity to be away from his father.

Time passes. The boys are getting bigger and stronger. They play rough, and sometimes do it inside despite Price’s insistent that they don’t. Soap accidentally puts his shoulder through the wall while trying to evade capture. Insert Nik, the big Russian carpenter/repairman who Soap and Gaz immediately decide will be their second dad.

[harmonysanreads]

Sends this because the Kaveh brainrot is real, and he's stuck in my head. Sorry for the length, I just had to get this out somewhere.

-----

It all started so innocently enough.

A couple of days ago, you went to drown your stress in alcohol. The stress of Akademiya, the stress of choosing a Darshan, and being alone in Sumeru, away from family and friends, took a toll on you. As you knocked back another drink, you let out a long sigh. A moment later, you found yourself looking into the red eyes of a peculiar blonde at the bar. You didn't remember most of the conversation, but recalled how animated he got when he kept complaining about his roommate.

A couple of days later, you went back to the bar sober. You were no closer to deciding anything, and none of the situations you were in were going to resolve itself. After taking a few more shots, you and the blonde found yourselves reaquainted at the bar once again. It was at this point he introduced himself as Kaveh.

Your eyes went wide when you realized who it was. Kaveh, the renowned architect and Ksharewar's most famous student. You couldn't believe it. Perhaps this was a sign from the universe that you should pursue your interest in technology? But then again, who said that you had to stick to just one?

You let out an audible groan as you allowed your head to lie on the bartop.

"Hey, are you alright?" Kaveh's voice was tinged with concern.

"No," you answered back. Your eyes were fixated on the shot glass you fiddled with on the bartop. "It's so stupid, but I can't decide. I just want to learn it all. Is that so wrong?"

The expression on your face must have looked particularly grim. Kaveh offered to help, being a listening ear to your sorrows. Once you drunk more "liquid courage," things just spilled out. All of your anxieties and fears were laid bare in front of this absolute famous stranger, but yet somehow, you felt safe telling him all of this.

But as you got up to leave, you were unsteady on your feet. Right as you were about to fall, Kaveh managed to pull you into the opposite direction from the floor, and into his arms.

"Oops. Thank you."

Kaveh shook his head. "You're not safe to walk home. Let me walk you home."

"But don't you have work to do too? I can go home by myself." Your slightly slurred speech didn't seem to convince Kaveh. Instead, it seemed to make him double down.

"If you won't let me walk you home, then at least sleep it off at my place." He muttered under his breath, "At least Alhaitham isn't home."

Too drunk to hear that muttering, but cognizant enough to recognize that Kaveh was saying something, you wanted him to repeat himself. You looked at him with confused eyes. "Did you say something?"

"If you won't let me walk you home, why don't you come over and sleep it off?"

Your hands immediately curled into Kaveh's shirt. You buried your head in his chest and asked softly, "can you stay with me?"

And that was the first night you ended up sleeping over at the architect's place.

As you and Kaveh got to know each other more, it became painfully clear how much both of you relied on each other. You celebrated your small victories together, and vented your frustrations. You got the feeling that he just got you, no matter what it was. You had forgotten how nice it feels having someone to rely on.

And after many conversations with him, you decided to go into the Ksharewar Darshan. To celebrate your achievement, both of you met back at his house. Kaveh said that he had something to give you. He made you a small handmade memento - a necklace with the logo for Ksharewar on it. Excitedly, you turn your back to him as you wait for him to put on the necklace.

Once the cold steel of the necklace was laid on your bare neck, you shuddered. His actions were gentle and sincere, but yet his light touches seemed to set your skin and your heart on fire. You placed your hands on your cheeks to feel the heat. You only drank two glasses at his place - it shouldn't have been enough to get you drunk, but you felt unsteady as if the world was tilting.

The last word that fell from your lips before you blacked out was his name, Kaveh.

While you were unconscious and seemingly asleep, the architect laid you down gently on the couch and tucked your stray hair behind your ears. He fiddled with the necklace that adorned your neck. Around the clasp that would normally allow one to take it off, was a piece of thin metal around it. It blocked the clasp, so the necklace couldn't be taken off. In the Ksharewar lion's eye, was a small little tracker device.

While Kaveh was sincerely happy about your acceptance into his Darshan, he wasn't about to let anyone else try to steal you away from him. With this, he would always be with you. He would know where you are, in case anything happened. You bared your heart to him, and with this, he bared his. He was your pillar just as much as you were his.

You would always be his, and only his.

A-anon.. have you considered starting a yandere blog??? BECAUSE THIS IS SO GOOD EXCUSE ME.

Since you deemed my inbox worthy enough for this jewel, please allow me to honour it with Kaveh's perspective<3

What does Kaveh see when he glances at a mirror?

The question itself tastes sardonic when he repeats it upon his own tongue. Kaveh has a reputation for being theatrical in certain topics and so, the bitter smile that stretches on his lips at the proposition of such a simple inquiry leaves many betrayed of the weight of it to the architect. Not just a mirror, any reflective surface that's had the misfortune of capturing strands of gold and optics of ruby, presents to Kaveh the haunting image of a design far too broken, far too astray from the line of saving and one he decides is better left that way — for that is what it deserves.

His relationship with himself causes many to furrow their brows, from concern, pity or the feelings of encountering something alien ; which is why, Kaveh does not even bother giving more than that cryptic smile anymore. If nothing else, this matter itself is not theatrical prose to the architect ; it's the nothing that has one trip and fall to the abyss, it's not one of his dramatic rambles because, Kaveh does not see himself upon a mirror. He only sees cracks, a broken and battered man and a thousand more cues of what could've been.

But what do the same resplendent scarlets capture when they fix on you?

They see a reflection. An almost stranger in the world of a man who's lost sight of himself, a once friend turned to nothing. Perhaps it was the desperation to not lose track of that familiarity again, perhaps it was the tentative tug of a connection that both of you craved which extended what was supposed to be but a passing conversation in the heat of intoxication. Regardless, neither of you gave up and when either tried to, it seemed as though the universe frowned. Therefore, it would have been stupidity in its extreme to reject such a gift.

You are his muse, his light and his basis of existence just as much as he is yours. Kaveh has let the world take what it desired of him for all his life in exchange of miniscule joys and accomplishments. Neither has he condemned its greed (or perhaps he has, and when it came back fruitless he merely accepted) nor has he tried to demand reimbursement. Some call him selfless, others say he's hopeless but he's certain of this much ; without you he'd be lesser than what he's been, for you are half of him.

But he'd rather throw himself in the midst of a Snezhnayan blizzard than bring you any pain, not when you've finally found your spark of lustre. The necklace will serve as a mark, a claim of who's found you first should someone dare to steal you away. The knowledge that this measure is wrong stings his already swollen heart but he has to do it. Let the heavens grant him this one instance of self-interest even if it's the last of his existence, he knows his shattered being will not be mended by meager methods — therefore, descend the pain tenfold in exchange if the skies so desire. He'll let anything be taken away from him with a happy face, so long as that meant you stayed.

I'm so so sorry for the late response, I've just been (unwillingly) drowning in a river of stress from school as of late ;—; I wanted to properly reciprocate your energy nonnie :'(

[nozunhinged]

7 BL Newbie Moments of 2023 That Altered My Brain Chemistry

So I went through all my posts since the beginning of this journey and as much as I love dumping my insanity here without context or any punctuation, I feel that a lot of my fav moments deserve a bit more love and structure.

But first I need to put a bit of context so you won't be like "who the hell do they think they are" (aside from delusional I'm nothing, I promise) and my anxious overexplainer-heart is silenced.

My first BL TV show was Only Friends and only 5 months later I'm already throat deep into it (sorry). My watchlist is so endless that I sometimes (no, regularly) genuinely fear for my sanity. I'm still learning all the names and production houses but does that stop me from starting 10 other shows? NOPE.

I'm not new to queer fan spaces (avid manga reader since the yaoi days, my first ship was taito from digimon) but I am most definitely new to the brainrot levels these shows gave me.

And believe it or not, even though my shipper heart is over a decade old, I'm new to Tumblr and the fuel this platform added to the fire could burn down entire continents.

ANYWAYS if you're still here — please enjoy Noz's 100% self-indulgent moments!

1. The End And The Beginning - Only Friends

All I did was mindlessly scroll through the tumblr trends, no idea about how this website works, still sour and sad about the loss of my twitter bubble thanks to the elopocalypse—little did I know that fate would lead me to the wonderful world of BL shows! It was like this moment in isekai-esque movies where you get sucked into a world and you go WOOAAH once you arrive.

There was this show—on YouTube—100% unapolagetic about sex, relationships and queerness. Five minutes into the first episode, someone asks if they can bring their boyfriend to a hookup. This was ALL of my wildest dreams come true! Oh boy, was I naive.

I feel like Only Friends had me speedrun the whole BL industry. Branded pairs, production houses, fanservice, obsessive fans & haters, audience reactions influencing the storyline, EVERYTHING happened during Only Friends and I was just like "what the hell is going on here?" It was like the perfect case study for literally everything. Honestly I still don't really understand what's going on.

Unfortunately, this also led to the awful ending I erased from my brain and don't want to get into, I'm just gonna say Boston I will never forgive the writers for what they did to you. I dropped that show like a hot potato, filtered all possible tags and moved on — or so I thought.

I feel like I'm trying to recreate that first excitement when I discovered OF. But 20 shows later, I'm still not there. Does this make me sound like an addict? Yes, and this is why Only Friends EP 1 is my No. 1 moment that altered my brain chemistry.

2. The Boeing Incident - Only Friends

I talked about it just yesterday and I need to do it again because Boeing was the beginning of a thing that thought I'd never be capable of: lusting after real person TV characters. I talked about it in length here and here so the only thing I'm gonna add just for good measure is that I'd do anything, anything for a BostonBeoingNOZ threesome. Holy shit I'm cringing just writing this down but I need to get my point across.

3. Still Looking For That Kiss - Love in The Air

I know this is a general experience at this point but the chemistry between the couples in Love In The Air opened a whole knew world for me. I thought I knew chemistry but when I saw them, I realized I knew NOTHING.

It may sound weird but I'm still looking for that perfect kiss that's hitting all the right neurons in my brain. I have a hunch that one of these two pairs will deliver them one day, but until then I NEED to watch a million kisses for research.

This post by @talistheintrovert explains perfectly what I think about kissing in shows. Ji Chang Wook is still the blueprint for me.

But do I have a favorite BL kiss so far? Yes, yes I do. It's this ShinPeach beauty.

4. Main Lead Syndrome - Kiseki: Dear To Me

I am a second lead, side couple enby before I am human but I will defend these two until the end of time. My TL is flooded with Chen Yi, Ai Di, Nat and Louis while these two are over here falling in love over strawberry cake, cat analogies, failed cooking and all sorts of memory loss. Zongyi opened a fucking bakery for his babygirl and Zerui pretended to be a pretty dumdum to protect the love of his life.

I don't care how much you all love the two dumb (affectionately) gangsters, these two deserve the world, end of story. Also Kai Hsu and Taro Lin are bff's irl now, Taro said that Kai helped him get out of a very bad mental tate and I take that very personally.

5. The Fanservice is Fanservicing - Kiseki: Dear To Me

Speaking of Taro and Kai, the fact that I even know that they're bff's is another brainaltering moment that needs recognition because months later it led me to this TikTok of two actors I don't know of a show I don't watch, staring at them for ages and really considering watching it just because of it.

That is the power of fanservice my friends and I can put on my clownmask now because I avidly screamed left and right that fanservice should be forbidden when I learned about it. I blame Kiseki for that. But my point still stands, I hate actors doing stuff they're uncomfortable with. I just hope they're all friends and have fun and get that coin.

6. The One Just For Me - Playboyy

I've been lurking around Playboyy from the moment I found out they have the same writer as OF. And boy did it deliver so far! I already wrote a bunch here about which role Playboyy plays for me, but it's also a wonderful case study for my producer heart — watching the acting, directing, lighting, sets, props and storyline interact is fascinating.

People say the less you notice the better the show, which is correct, but I love all the flaws of this piece of media. IMHO it's the last puzzlepiece of the amazing, important social commentary the show delivers. All of the topics the couples represent need to get their very own show.

7. The Holy Grail - The Sign

Speaking of the less you notice — this is the sign for The Sign (again, sorry). There's a reason this show is loved and praised so widely because the production is on a whole other level. Adding the beautiful story on top of that, we have the potential for a holy grail here and I'm so in for the ride.

I keep saying I've entered the world of BL in it's absolute golden era. Never in a million years did I think I'd watch 5 shows simultaneosly but I love every single one of them so much I keep a whole spreadsheet on how I can be on time for every premiere every week alongside my work schedule.

Honorable mentions

KinnPorsche: VegasPete were my first dark, angsty, morally questionable couple ever (I'm a sissy okay)

Last Twilight: When I watched Extraordinary Attorney Woo, I cried several times about the wonderful media representation of disability. It means so much to me and Last Twilight is on par with that.

Bake Me Please: Thank you for giving me this beautiful kiss

Manner of Death: Thank you MaxTul for making gay makeouts fashionable

Bad Buddy: The one time I was glad I persisted so I could watch them most adorable phone scene on the planet

I Feel You Linger In The Air: It was too painful for me to finish but I loved the show with my whole heart and it deserves all the awards it got.

Kimi ni Todokanai: Japanese shows just hit different. I'll never get over the kissing Taiyaki.

The Novelist Series: THIS is how you kiss the one you're horny for my friends. Take notes directors.

Semantic Error: My fav webtoon -> Got Viki for the Series -> Found the BL corner of Viki -> Drew my attention to Tumblr -> This post.

Thank you for being the butterfly of my butterfly effect.

And thank YOU if you read until here! To a even more wonderful queer year 2024! I'm so ready for this ride.

[snowsays]

on my knees hands clasped together in front of me pleading for you to infodump about your fic in which vertina is jolie’s human wife

oh noo, I fear you're gonna be disappointed 😖😖 the fic is not about them 👉🏻👈🏻 im not even sure if they would have appeared

it's actually a sokeefe fic that consumed my brain for -checks notes- four whole days, in which I wrote 8.4k words. I got inspired by this AU. I have actually mentioned it a little before in this blog, I asked for headcanons on what each member of the gang would study/wear/like, because it's a human!college!au, and I actually made a pinterest board with fashion inspo for Biana, Sophie, Keefe and Fitz lmao (you can check it out here if you wanna) and a spotify playlist for Biana and Sophie like those you can make with a friend where spotify automatically fills it with music according to the tastes of each of you

so basically my general idea was that Sophie and Keefe meet at a party where they make out and then the next day they bump into each other at Everglen for spring break. I was writing it on the go bc I hadnt written fanfiction in 12 years (something got into my brain last year and I had an idea for an Eragon fanfic, wrote like a page then got busy, and now this one) so I only had a vague idea of what I wanted to happen which was: make out/have sex at party so its real awkward the next day at everglen (I basically got to this point before the brainrot stopped), couple nightly accidental meetups bc neither of them can sleep, talk about their trauma??, have sex again??, and that was it 😂

but me being me, I got really into making it make sense. So the ~Lore~ I came up with was:

The Reuwens adopted Sophie and Amy after the Fosters died in a fire (cuz we gotta keep it in theme right?)

Jolie lives, and is happily married with Vertina. Fuck Brady (didnt think too much about what happened to him, but maybe he couldve gone to jail?)

Jolie is an adult and out of the house ofc, she's still 15 years older than Sophie

The Reuwens have an animal sanctuary, I was thinking horse sanctuary also inspired by another fanfic I read (but that one was a Haikyuu one)

Sophie drives an old pick-up truck, and Biana has a Suzuki Vitara Live (which she got to spite Luzia Vacker, who is her great-aunt and very conservative. It was a compromise, Biana wanted a Ram pick-up bc Luzia was all "ladies should only drive small cars" but Della and Alden got her to accept the Suzuki) (< that was inspired by my own experience with a family friend who wanted me to sell him my Renault Sandero Stepway and he would give me a Chevrolet Spark bc it was "better for girls")

Foxfire is a college

Sophie, Biana and Stina are roommates. They rent an apartment together (they're in third year, Sophie transferred to Foxfire in second year and got placed as Biana's roommate, who wasnt happy bc she hadnt had one before, but they became friends after helping each other with classes stuff)

Likewise, Fitz, Keefe, Dex and (I was still deciding if) Tam live together in a house (it's Cassius')

Sophie and Biana dont like Stina and she doesnt like them either

Sophie ends up going with Biana to Fitz and Keefe's party bc Stina goaded her about being boring, and then also ends up in Keefe's room to spite Stina

Sophie and Stina are both studying to be veterinarians (the college situation is a mix of how I know american colleges work and how they work in my country)

Biana I was thinking fashion design and/or art. Keefe also art

Also I got an anon after I asked for hcs that mentioned poli-sci/law for Fitz but also culinary so I was thinking he started poli-sci/law at Alden's behest (like Alvar) but then changed majors to culinary. I was thinking to give him and Biana issues with parental expectations and all that (but probably not super detailed)

Dex's major was mechanical ingeneering, and also he and Biana are dating

Also the reason Sophie was spending spring break with Biana and not the Reuwens was that Jolie and Vertina were in their honeymoon, and Grady and Edaline got excited so Sophie and Amy convinced them to go on their own couples trip, and then Amy made plans with her roommate so Biana invited Sophie to Everglen

No one knew Keefe was gonna go too. I was thinking he had a fight with Cassius about the party the morning after so Fitz told him to just go to Everglen with him

and I think that was it. i'm sorry it wasnt more joliexvertina centric, I hope you enjoyed it anyway

[thecrowcern]

✨Living with the Toman fraternity, Chapter 3✨

Notes: I'll be honest, this is mainly just Chifuyu because the brainrot is real my mans, but I hope you all enjoy!

💕 Chapter 1

💕 Chapter 2

Tag list: @aerangi

Join tag list here!

WC: 1k (1014)

Tags: TransMasc Reader, Male Reader, Black reader, Daddy Kink, Pussy mentioned, Chubby Reader, Drug Use (cannabis),

Chifuyu pt 2

Chifuyu watches you from the other side of the couch; hooded sea-foam eyes mesmerized at how you multitask. Bright brown eyes flip from packing the blunt to the tv in front of you; gingerly massaging and evening out what you packed. Twisting the top shut, you look around for a lighter and automatically he reaches over with a flame. You lean into it mumbling a thank you before you take a pull. Leaning back, you blow into the air above you, watching how the plums of smoke reflect and dance in the light. You’ve both been smoking all day watching bad horror movies on Tubi. The other boys were out so it was just the two of you in the house. 

With his head in the clouds, his mind wanders, and his eyes trailing down your form. Blunt hanging from plump lips, hair haloed by the setting sunlight; your shorts have been riding higher and higher up your thighs. 

Warm, soft, sun-kissed brown thighs. 

Drooling at the memory of being between them a few days ago, he shifts in his seat. You shift, moving to lean against him, nuzzling into his chest. He can tell how bad those shorts are rubbing against your clit and the thought passes at how wet you might be. In a tentative manner, he reaches and plucks the blunt from your lips, bringing it to his own, slowly pulling before caressing your cheek. "Yes, 'Fuyu," you question, looking up at him. 

He pulls your face closer, kissing you softly as he blows into your mouth. You moan softly, inhaling the smoke as you kiss him. You cast the controller aside, pulling back as you blew out the smoke smiling down at him. He smirks, reaching down and pulling your shorts up, his cock twitching at the soft moan that escapes your lips. “Wanna play~” 

 ____

“Fuck, Fuyu~ M-more please”, you moan, pulling at his hair gently. He grunts. A firm hand grips your breast, sucking on your nipple with fever. His other hand is between your legs, middle finger making nimble circles around your clit, your thighs shake. His collar jingles and mixes with the sounds of your moans. 

His cock rubs against your thigh.

You’ve had enough.

Pulling his head up, you kiss him, pumping his cock with your other hand. “Fuck me, baby boy,” you gasp, pulling back. He nods, pushing your thighs up to your chest, holding back a groan of delight at the sight below him. Brown skin glowing in the light, drenched in sweat and his pre-cum. Your pussy’s plump, covered in curly, dark hair. Sliding his cock between them was like heaven. 

Whining at how hot your cunt felt against him, “Daddy, you’re so fucking wet for me”

His head pushes inside. “S’fucking tight,”

His nails dig into your thighs, pulling out slowly before pushing back inside, setting a steady pace. He leans forward, knees digging into the couch below and kisses you, fucking into your tight cunt. His balls slap against you, the sound echoing off the walls. You know you shouldn’t be fucking on the couch; any of the other boys could find you, but that just made it better. The thought made you tighten around him, your nails drive into his shoulders, trying to find some stability. His hands let go of your thighs, wrapping them around his waist before hoisting you up. Thrusting up inside you, he gently weaves his fingers in your hair, pulling at your roots, he whispers in your ear, “Hear that Daddy, your cunt is so wet for me, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.” 

He holds you close; leaning himself against the couch, he plants his feet on the ground. Holding your legs to help you balance, he thrusts up inside you, drooling with a smile on his face. You were in that same heaven, body on fire and cunt gushing around his cock. He latches himself on your breast, gripping you by the waist as he fucks up into you. Desperate to hear your moans as long as he can, to make you sing for him. “I’m…so…close” you whimper, falling apart on top of him. Holding his head to your chest, your eyes roll back, squirting on his cock as he refuses to slow down; thrusting faster, spraying your juices on the couch and against himself. 

But he’s not done, not yet

He pulls back, letting you collapse against him. He reaches behind you. Grabbing your ass, he holds you down on his cock, grinding the head against your cervix entrance. He devours the sight in front of you, how your back arches and your ass overflows in his hands. Your body is so soft, so round, so plump; he’s obsessed with it. It stirs him up, and he fucks into you watching how your ass ripples and those sweet moans pour from your kiss-swollen lips. He pulls your ass apart, slapping one cheek before slapping the other. Cumming deep inside of you; his balls throb and pulse. But your hips don’t stop, gently bouncing on his cock, greedy to continue feeding the fire raging through your body. Thighs twitch and moans bleed from your lips, he decorates your chest with prayers, calling out to you, his angel. Looking up at you, panting, eyes brimming with tears, Chifuyu smiles. 

It makes your heart swell. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop,” he murmurs, flipping you over. Bending you over the couch he stands behind you, rubbing your sides softly before pulling you against him. Sheathing himself inside he whines, the bell on his collar jingles as he picks up speed.  His pace speeds up, his breathing getting heavier as he thrusts into you. You both gasp as you reach the peak, your body trembling as he thrusts a few more times before collapsing on top of you. His arms wrap around you, keeping you close and safe. 

You whine, grinding against his hips, “W-we gotta clean up…the others should be back soon~”

“Ayo WHAT THE FUCK?”

“I guess they're here already,” Chifuyu murmurs.