#this is so random but ive been working on it a while so now you all suffer

[kafus]

hi guys meet scramble. the salamence i have been preparing for NEARLY AN ENTIRE FUCKING MONTH!!!! AAAAA

so okay. i am trying to build a 6 pokemon team to take on orre colosseum in pokemon xd gale of darkness. for the uninitiated, it's basically like gen 3 VGC, but against NPCs with predetermined and handcrafted teams made by the developers. you can honestly kind of think of it like the trainer battles in the indigo disk DLC, but if pretty much all the fights had a full team and some competitive merit. and of course gen 3 doubles mechanics (which have some WILD fundamental differences from modern VGC, but i digress as that's not really the point of this post)

despite getting perfect stat pokemon being extremely difficult and time consuming in gen 3, and basically impossible outside of emerald if you want the right natures on your pokemon, the NPC opponents in orre colosseum have pokemon with perfect IVs and such, so to not suffer you really have to have some Good Pokemon. now usually this wouldn't be a problem for me because i know how to RNG manipulate wild encounters and eggs in gen 3... but there's a catch.

see i've been trying to play this copy of emerald, my new main file as of last year, MOSTLY fully legitimately and as intended by the developers, AKA no RNG manipulation and very little use of glitches. don't get me wrong, there are exceptions to this, i make my own rules and i'm just here to have fun, not to prove myself like it's some sort of challenge run for the internet to judge me on. but as for battle tower pokemon and whatnot, i haven't used RNG manipulation at all, and i intend to keep it that way. i've used RNG manipulation for that stuff in the past and frankly i'm just bored of it.

this is the team i built for orre colosseum. it's first time ever building my own team for gen 3 doubles, so i suppose we'll see how it goes, but yeah. a writeup on it after i beat orre colosseum in the future perhaps. for the sake of this post, the important pokemon is that salamence.

this thing was a fucking NIGHTMARE to get without RNG manipulation. as you may or may not know, hidden power is a move that can be any type and of any base power between 30 and 70, depending on the IVs of the pokemon that knows the move. this is an extremely unforgiving calculation and it's also pretty complex so i'm not going to get into the exact math here. but what you need to know about breeding this salamence is:

bagon is 40 egg cycles. most standard pokemon are 20. they take double the time to hatch compared to other pokemon. collecting and hatching these eggs was excessively slow, even with flame body

dragon dance is an egg move and egg moves can only be passed down by male parents in gen 3, so that is something i have to juggle

the adamant nature has only a 50/50 chance of passing with the everstone hold item as opposed to the 100% chance in modern gens. additionally, it only works when the female parent is holding it (or a ditto, but that's irrelevant here)

there is no way to guarantee the passing down of specific IVs, and there also is no destiny knot to guarantee that 5 total IVs are passed down from the parents. you're stuck with getting a random 2-3 IVs from the parents in completely random fashion

this means that i have to hatch dozens of eggs to even get a pokemon with 3 perfect IVs, even off of two parents that have the 3 perfect IVs, and the process of getting those parents in the first place is a very slow and incremental and random process... WHILE juggling nature and egg moves

the cherry on top is that to realistically have the chance to get hidden power flying, i have to have two parents with a 30 IV in special attack/special defense and a 30 or a 31 in speed. so i can't just get a perfect bagon and call it a day, i have to cross two perfect bagons with all of the above parameters to roll for those parameters to pass down again, and also roll HP flying.

NOW. i made this WAY more torturous on myself. because the easiest way to get HP flying is by pairing two x/x/x/30/30/30 parents together. but knowing that orre colosseum pokemon can have perfect stats, and because of the relative lack of speed control options in gen 3 doubles (no tailwind, no trick room, etc), every point of speed matters. i wanted that perfect speed of 31. the issue? when rolling for x/x/x/30/30/31 pokemon instead, the only way that the type of the hidden power is flying is if all the three other IVs are even numbers. so alltogether, i need the following to happen on any bagon egg, assuming that i've already put together the two x/x/x/30/30/31 parents with a male dragon dance bagon and an adamant female bagon holding an everstone:

all three IVs to pass down from the parents (the way emerald determines which IVs pass down is weird but it's roughly a 1/16 chance for the offspring to be 30/30/31)

the nature to pass down with the everstone (1/2)

all three other IVs to randomly roll even (1/8)

so the odds? 1/256. and that's not even a guarantee that the final resulting bagon has GOOD IVs in its other stats, just EVEN numbers. or 0. they could all be 0!!!!

and the first bagon i got after probably around 200 eggs (i wasn't counting at that point)? a middling 16 in attack, and a fucking ZERO in HP. zero!!!! i was so sick of bagons at this point that i considered keeping it and stopping there on that fateful day of september 1st. BUT I WAS NOT SMART. AND I DIDN'T. i decided i would keep hatching bagon until i got one more HP flying one with the IVs and nature passed down, and THEN i would stop no matter what, just keeping whichever bagon of the two was better.

i actually started fucking losing it. i had to recount the amount of bagon i ended up hatching. i was doing it full boxes at a time, and later on i even added a second save file/GBA SP just to make it go faster. you know how many bagon i hatched?? 840!! for a 1/256 chance!!! dealing with the 40 egg cycles and everything!!!

my friends watched me slowly devolve into insanity as i routinely announced in our game liveposting channel that i was HATCHING MORE BAGON. and FINALLY after nearly a full month of on and off bagon hatching. I GOT ONE TODAY. AND GUESS WHAT ITS ATTACK IV WAS.

IT.

WAS.

2!!!

anyway i'm not even actually mad because i'm just so happy this is over. i was getting so fucking sick of it. i love long pokemon grinds but this was a lot even for me. it doesn't feel even remotely good like full odds hunting and this is the longest and most miserable egg grind i've ever done in these games and will hopefully ever have to do. and yet despite knowing that i couldn't stop myself because of sunken cost fallacy. and being stubborn. so i am glad to be RELEASED from BAGON PURGATORY

i am settling for the 0 HP IV 16 attack iv bagon and i will love her. she is named scramble as a reference to the sheer amount of eggs i hatched on this journey and also the scrambled RNG. and despite it all i am very proud of myself and excited to use her in orre colosseum regardless of everything. but i can't for a while because i have three more pokemon to breed... none of which should even be NEARLY this painful. hopefully. FINGERS FUCKING CROSSED!!

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[ezlebe]

If you're still doing prompts - the roys and greg are all vampires but tom is not

“Are you nervous?” Greg asks, turning over the black and gold half mask in his hands, as he paces down the length of the room. “Like. You’re prepared, you know. You shouldn’t be nervous.”

Tom rolls his head back and forth, not quite looking back, and definitely not responding to the question. He threads a cuff link through his shirt, a flash of gold between his fingers, then reaches for the next.

“I mean, it’s…” Greg swallows, thickly, lifting and spinning a hand with a weak lift of his shoulder. “It’ll be easy?”

“What makes you say that?“ Tom asks, in a bright, biting chirp, as he reaches now for the cravat pooled on the vanity. “You didn’t have to go through the wringer, proving to every fang for seventeen generations that you’re worthy of low blood pressure, solar allergies, and eternal hunger – you just hatched.”

Greg grunts low under his breath. “Sort of? But they still tried to drown me when I was born.”

Tom looks up with a blink through his lashes. “What?”

“Because my mom like did it in secret, I guess?” Greg says, looking down while digging his fingernail into the leather edge of his mask. “So you know, I technically did have to pass a test. By like not dying from that.”

“What the fuck – ? No, I did not know that,” Tom says, voice pitching, as he wraps the silk around his neck with a derisive grimace. “I thought that… Jesus, Roman’s said as much, but I thought it was a fucking turn of phrase.”

“Oh,” Greg intones, briefly letting his eyes sweep the ground in discomfort. “Yeah, I mean – No? Obviously, it turned out okay. I don’t remember it?”

“And neither the fuck will I. You’re really not making me feel like I’m standing on any more solid ground,” Tom says, as he looks up, then he sighs, offering a jerk of his chin to gesture for Greg to step close. “Come here. The little chain is all looped across – ” He lifts his hands, gently tugging at the collar chain Greg is using in place of a tie. “There. Now you’re respectable.”

Greg peeks down at the edges of the antlers framing his throat. “It doesn’t look lame?”

“You’re insulting me, Greg,” Tom says, fussily straightening the rest of Greg’s shirt, down his lapels, then flicking at a closure on the vest. “I might not remember you, in an hour, but I think some part of me will just know I’m the reason you don’t look like a schlub.”

“That would be weird,” Greg says, though he’s got his own hopes about cracks in the spell.

“The whole ritual is weird,” Tom says, pulling away with a wide eye roll. He looks in the mirror to straighten his own outfit; it’s an antique silver one, so the space is empty next to him, proving it as little more than a costume piece for anyone else in the manor. “Forget your partner just to choose them, again? In masks? It’s a rigged carnival game – one of truest bullshit, considering the 100% divorce rate in the Roy cauldron.”

Greg feels a tight pull at the corner of his mouth, somewhat ducking his head with a weak lift of a shoulder. “Okay, so you – you’re ready, right? You, um – ”

Tom loudly sucks at his teeth, looking away from the mirror while stuffing his silk cravat into his vest. He stares for a few long, heavy seconds at Greg, then straightens, as he clears his throat. “If you ask if I’m ready one more time, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“I-I only want you to pass,” Greg mutters, somewhat irked, and he feels like somewhere over the last couple weeks, as the final test snuck up, he started being the only one to care if Tom went through with it. He shouldn’t even be the one here with Tom getting ready. “Do you want me to go see what Shiv is wearing?”

“It doesn’t matter, bud. But hey, corner me about the rules, after they’ve lobotomized me, will you?” Tom says, rather than answering the question. “I don’t feel like getting sabotaged by the old ghouls on a technicality.”

Greg tips his head back and forth, imagining how it might go meeting Tom a second time; it’ll be different, at least, since he won’t know Greg’s a vampire, so he can’t – probably won’t make a joke about asking for a bite. “Will you… be nice?”

“I cannot possibly promise that, buddy,” Tom says, picking up the last of his outfit for the masque, a gold phantom mask, from the settee with a crooked smirk. He reaches out and claps Greg atop the shoulder. “You’ll just have to get over it.”

~

It turns out that Greg doesn’t have to explain it at all, because the basis is given to an enthralled Tom and another dozen mortal hopefuls at the masque. They don’t get the truth, since no one is told they’ve been put under a forgetfulness spell, only simply that they’re there part of a singles event and everyone is to exchange a token with their choice of partner at the end of the night. The tokens that Tom and Shiv share are a pair of fine bracelets donated by Caroline, which had been something of a contention, since Tom repeatedly emphasized a desire for a favor more like a silk ribbon.

Or Tom had said as much to Greg, anyway, who admittedly isn’t sure he told this to Shiv, or anyone else.

The whole pronouncement of the ritual by Ewan at the start makes Greg somewhat inexplicably queasy, a feeling that just worsens when Tom and the others are announced and file in at the entrance, so he’s relieved not to have to actually talk to Tom after he begins mingling among the party. He chooses, at first, just to watch Tom from some distance away, but then it starts to sting not to have Tom look back at him, so he begins looking for places that Tom wouldn’t be able to see him from to pretend that it’s just a coincidental sort of disregarding, not that Tom has no clue that Greg is his friend.

He does start to worry, almost an hour into the masque, when he catches on that it seems like Shiv is also in places that Tom won’t happen to see her. It actually seems as if she is outright avoiding him, and Greg grudgingly works himself up to asking about it, after catching her slipping away a second time from a room that Tom happens to step into in an evident wander.

Shiv is easy to catch when she doesn’t know she needs to be watching, though it does mean blood wine nearly ends up down Greg’s black and gold vest. She lifts her unoccupied hand, palm up, in exasperation. “What the fuck, Greg?”

“What are you doing?” Greg says, then winces, as the question emerges a little more sharp than he intends, if not particularly as harshly as he means it. “You’re, like – you’re setting him up to fail.”

Shiv stares back for a pair of tense beats. “I am not,” she says, primly lying, as she takes a quick sip of her wine. “The point is for him to find me.”

“The point is for him to fall in l-love with you, again,” Greg says, clearing his throat, as his voice threatens to break around the reminder. “But he can’t like do that, if you’re totally avoiding him. The whole mask and spell apparatus is the finding part, not like, uh, like a really mean hide-and-seek.”

“He’ll find me if he’s meant to,” Shiv says, a marked tic in her jaw, as her eyes dart away and then back up. “Maybe he’s not meant to.”

Greg feels something lurch behind his sternum. It’s not a fresh memory, exactly, but Tom had made some roundabout… metaphor in a stressful moment that seemed like he was perhaps out of love with Shiv, but that’s not particularly the point at hand. “Do you seriously want him to die?” He asks, because it only really matters that Tom qualifies to be turned before it’s too late. “For Tom to get old, or just sick, and… he’ll just to be gone?”

“No, you dick, but – ” Shiv exhales a harsh breath and glances down with a quick sweep of her eyes on the other side of her mask. “I don’t need you to understand. Fuck off, Cousin Lurch.”

Greg crosses his arms, scratching at his elbows while he shakes his head. “I want to, actually, be-because I suspect that – ” He clears his throat, “I think you don’t even love him, do you?”

“Fuck you,” Shiv snarls, fangs briefly emerging from her gums in furor. “It’s not about love. You don’t fucking get it, do you? How when you turn someone you’re fucking conjoined to them; you’ve got this pulling thing hooked into your fucking soul like a leech.”

“It’s only until they’re… better, or whatever,” Greg says, hunching into his shoulders, as he looks around toward the rest of the party, though no one seems to be paying them much attention. “It never sounded that bad to me?”

“So do it yourself, then,” Shiv snaps, offering a goading jut of her chin. “Shocked that wasn’t your first instinct.”

“I can’t!” Greg says, hearing his voice pitch, tightening his hands around his elbows while feeling his own fangs threaten to rush his gums. “You know you’reTom’s only – ”

A familiar tut sets lifts hair at the back of Greg’s neck. “I hate to interrupt.”

Greg peeks over with a wince to find his mom loitering under a nearby painting.

“Were neither of you listening to my dad?” Marianne asks, typically sarcastic, scratching at the scarf she has tied around her neck in a gaudy crimson. “Or is it just totally wrong impression?”

Shiv rolls her lips tight together, turning them exceptionally pale. “This isn’t your business, Marianne.”

“He said…” Marianne continues, then trails off, as her eyes roll and she tuts, “Not to quote, because I wasn’t listening that close, but I know it was something like ‘should Thomas Wambsgans court an attendant of the masquerade, they may take him as mate’, right?”

Shiv shifts her jaw, then sends a sharp glance up at Greg, as if he’s got any control over his mom. “So?”

“So, Siobhan,” Marianne says, using her wine glass to gesture in a condescending circle between the three of them. “He didn’t say: ‘should Thomas Wambsgans court Siobhan Roy’ did he?”

Greg focuses briefly on Shiv, wetting his lips before looking back to Marianne.

“Hell, our Tommy could court…” Marianne pauses, again, eyes lifting with some too-obvious weight on Greg, then hums a pair of notes, lifting her thumb over her shoulder to wag at the milling party. “Any dolled-up fang, and they would be able turn him tomorrow morning under the decree.” She takes a sip, sucking at her teeth, unashamed about showing her fangs. “You two are still young, but the whole point of these stupid parties was to be a meat market that trapped members of royal families in mildly compatible matches and add their blood to the mix.”

Greg furrows his brow, then rolls his eyes over his mom’s head.

“And Dad would just love to piss off duplicitous Uncle Logan with a technicality,” Marianne says, then gestures with the glass at Shiv with a slight dip of her shoulder. “No offense, hun.”

Shiv sneers while she takes a sip from her own glass.

Greg weakly cocks his head, because… that’s true, except Grandpa Ewan is also steadfast when it comes to digging in his heels to disappoint everyone. He chews at his lower lip, not particularly comforted, but that is fairly typical for getting advice from his mom.

“Now don’t get me wrong,” Marianne says, as her eyes settle and narrow toward Shiv. “I don’t think anyone will especially approve that you brought a potential this far into the fold only to turn chicken.”

“It’s not like I just – ” Shiv all but growls, then visibly swallows, jaw tightening beneath her mask. “That isn’t what happened.”

“Uh-huh. The whole kit and kaboodle isn’t for everyone, obviously,” Marianne says, gesturing at herself while rolling her head back and forth, then exhaling an ugly snort with a short lean forward. “Hell, I’ve heard a lot of stories out of the last year – very surprised m’ athair got the invitation to this masque.”

Greg feels a tightening in his shoulders. “Mom, shut up.”

“I’m just saying that a lot of trying got us to this point, so clearly there’s some forces here that want Tom in the cauldron, alright?” Marianne says, as she takes a step out of their small circle. She gestures away, down the hall beyond the milling guests. “Now, I’m off to go eat my ego and try to convince daddy dearest that changing some parameters here is his idea. You better thank me,little cousin.”

Shiv peeks up at Greg, then focuses hard on Marianne, defiantly cocking her chin. “I will when it happens.”

“Oh, ever the doubter,” Marianne says, as she turns away with a lofty scoff. “Tata.”

Shiv throws back the rest of her wine, then looks up at Greg. “Now you just need to find him someone he could want,” she says, tone rolling in a mocking lilt around the words. “How very convenient for you.”

“Me?” Greg says, hearing temper flare in his voice, ugly from the back of his throat.

Shiv narrows her eyes, staring back for a solid beat, then seems to literally swallow her words, as she shifts a long look to Greg’s right arm. She eventually exhales a sigh, as her shoulders roll back to square. “Yeah, Greg. You.” She throws her hair across her shoulder with a low, embittered laugh. “You’re the one… who cares so much.”

“But I can’t – ” Greg shakes his head, lifting a hand, and nearly knocks his mask off when he unthinkingly attempts to run his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to set him up with anyone else.”

“Other than me?” Shiv says, flatly, while her mouth lifts in a crooked sneer. “Right?”

Greg wets his lips, feeling his gut clench. “Yeah, uh -yeah, obviously, I meant you.”

Shiv is predictably the first between them to lose her patience. “Are we seriously going to fucking do this, Greg?”

“I guess?” Greg stiffly resettles his mask against his nose with a shrug. “I can’t like imagine to what it is you’re addressing.”

“Oh, you can’t?” Shiv sneers, voice lifting mockingly, as she leans forward on the balls of her feet. “That’s a load of bull. Look at what you’re wearing, Greg.”

“Okay, maybe, but not like…” Greg clears his throat, lifting his nose a little while chewing at the inside of his lip. “You know, like you brought a concubine to your commitment ceremony, anyway, making you seem like not particularly committed.”

“A concubine?” Shiv repeats, while fangs frame a sharp upturn of a hostile smile. “You’re barely three hundred, you don’t know what the fuck a concubine is.”

Greg drops his chin. “I obviously do, because – ”

A throat clears. “Excuse me, gentleman and lady?”

Greg stumbles forward and nearly straight into Shiv, who offers a small, shocked yelp, hands lifting up in his direction with a wide, startled expression flashing across her face. He makes sure his mask is straight, as he looks back, seeing Tom looking bemused between them.

“Are you two in the middle of – ?”

“Cousins!” Greg interrupts, tightly, shaking his head and briefly catching an aghast grimace beside him. “We’re just cousins. The, uh – the totally non-kissing kind.”

Shiv exhales an exaggerated gag. “What the fuck, Greg.”

“Glad to hear it,” Tom says, brightly and bewilderingly, then thrusts out a hand, first to Greg, then to Shiv, nodding between them with a friendly, polite sort of smile. It is odd to be on the other side of it, since this isn’t really an expression Greg gets very often, or ever, and a glance over confirms that Shiv is just as discomforted by it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tom Wa – Or, just Tom, right? No surnames.”

Greg nods with a weak hum to echo the sentiment. He is very quickly confirming that he doesn’t particularly like Tom not recognizing him; it’s been two blatant missed opportunities for heckling, and the air feels a little empty for it.

“I just have been seeing you around, actually, and I want – ” Tom pauses, oddly shaking his head. “I wanted to – ” He abruptly inhales a sharp breath, interrupting himself while lifting a hand to his forehead in evident pain. “Fuck.”

“Tom?” Greg says, feeling his voice pitch tight against the back of his throat. He can’t remember Grandpa Ewan mentioning any side effects, but no one really tends to pay attention to how magic affects mortals.

“Is your head okay?” Shiv demands, her voice rising urgently between them.

“Sorry, hah,” Tom says, voice tight, as he stiffly attempts to dismiss the question. “I’ve had this little ache starting up since I got here, but it’s nothing.”

“Does it feel like you’re having a stroke?” Shiv asks, tensely, as she lifts her empty wine glass and curls close to her chest. “Or is it more like a migraine?”

“O-or an aneurysm?” Greg says, flapping his hands up near his own head with a high lift of his arms crooked at the elbow. “Like, your head is actively exploding?”

Tom glances between blinks to Greg and Shiv, slowly pulling his hand from his brow. He offers a crooked, bemused smirk. “I really think it’s just that purple liquor, but I’m… flattered at the concern.”

“Sure,” Shiv says, reaching up and scratching at her brow. She looks at Tom for a beat longer, then back to Greg, expression tightening and conflicted, then it smooths out. “Fuck, Greg, I – ” She shakes her head, as she takes a step away, plainly again hesitating on her heel, but eventually does take a full stride away.

Greg slowly, carefully looks back at Tom, only to see he’s staring at him, rather than at Shiv’s retreating back. He blinks and feels his face color, scratching at the base of his jaw. “I’m, uh – I’m sorry? Did you… were you trying to ask to dance with her?”

“Not quite…” Tom winces, making a toothy, near-parody of a grimace, before he peeks back up as his lips shift into grin. “Actually, I was talking to you.”

Greg stares back for a pair of beats, feeling heat prickle more sharply under the mask. “You were?”

“Is that okay?” Tom asks, raising the brow not behind his mask, seeming more wry than particularly concerned.

“Yeah? Y-Yes,” Greg says, exhaling a brief stutter. “Of course, that’s – ” He should like probably chase Shiv back down, but… Tom is looking at him. Just him. “Yeah. It’s totally fine.”

Tom stares for a markedly charged beat, then his head tilts, as he wets his lips. “You still haven’t told me your name?”

“Oh, sorry,” Greg says, sweeping his hair awkwardly across his ear. “Greg?”

“Greg,” Tom repeats, in a fond, familiar sort of lilt – and a bit of a shock, since he’s not supposed to remember him. “As in Gregory, then? Suits you.”

“Does it?” Greg says, lifting his brows, as he looks away with a jerk of a nod. “I-I mean, thanks.”

The main ballroom swells with music, as they approach, and is filled with dancers of varying talent; slow and clumsy, to quick and spinning. It’s a comfort not to feel pressure to perform well, since Greg isn’t a hugely talented dancer, despite the cauldron’s best efforts through exposure, and Tom can’t remember that means he has had centuries to fail to practice.

“Would you like to – ?” Tom gestures his hands in a position further up than expected.

“No, no… Um, you can lead,” Greg says, hesitantly reaching out to wrap his hand at Tom’s shoulder.

“I thought so,” Tom says, breezy yet pointed, while he tips his head with a marked smirk. His hand settles solid and wide against Greg’s ribs, holding there in a way far different from the usual poke and prods he affords in general. “You look like you prefer to ask where to point.”

“Hah,” Greg mutters, rolling his lips together with a jerky nod. He feels something unspool beneath his ribs, as he realizes it’s definitely Tom underneath all the polite action. He is, briefly, a bit irked that he’s never really experienced polite Tom before; he definitely should have been given the opportunity the first time, but it… is what it is, and sometimes the deep end is the best place to fall.

“The costume really flatters you, Greg,” Tom says, voice low, in plainly some, fairly successful, attempt to flatter, as they begin to move with the music. It’s as close as they’ve ever been without some pretense, so distracting and unexpected, and the degree of their touch almost, somehow makes Tom hard to hear. “I don’t mean the mask. The brocade here… it was a superb choice – it’s like we came all ready to match.”

“Oh yeah, I know,” Greg says, absently, as they glide and step around other dancers, only to quickly find himself stiffening under a dubious stare. “I – I mean, thanks, but I didn’t actually pick it out? I’m mostly ever worried stuff won’t fit.”

Tom narrows an eye. “Your date?”

“No,” Greg says, shaking his head, feeling a harsh croak at the edge of his voice. “No date.”

“Just making sure,” Tom says, quirking a brow, then he tips his head, as he glances around them at the rest of the dance floor. “You’ve been talking to a lot of pretty masks tonight.”

Greg feels his face color, again, and worries he’s going to have to find somewhere to feed at the waste of energy. “I guess… you know, it’s important to blend in.”

“It’s definitely a formal fucking event, like playacting one of the paintings in this badly decorated museum,” Tom muses, as the music slows, prompting them to move slower and somehow closer, as piano gradually swells around them. “But you agreed to a dance with me, didn’t you?”

Greg offers a small lift of his shoulder. “You’re pretty, too,” he mumbles, then immediately wants to swallow his tongue. “I-I mean… You’re handsome? From, uh – from what I can see.”

“I’ll take either,” Tom says, smirking, as he offers a cocky tilt of his head.

The song blurs into another, and they keep going, easing Greg into some space where he can pretend the masque is going well, rather than having totally fallen apart. He catches Roman and Connor at the edge of the floor, but ignores them, turning his head while instead concentrating on counting the warm puffs of breath across his neck. He can imagine that it’s actually going to work out, standing so close, hands clasped together, like it was supposed to turn out this way.

The tactic doesn’t quite work for long, as his thoughts regroup to form another attack. What if Tom gets pissed? It would be okay, maybe, if he wasn’t going to remember tomorrow. It’s not a lot of time to come up with an excuse for what’s happening that doesn’t just make it more obvious that Greg leapt at the chance to essentially ruin Tom’s chances at becoming part of the cauldron.

“Hey,” Tom says, as his hand lifts across the back of Greg’s shoulder with a squeeze. The music around them is fading quickly, and his voice is consequently barely a mutter, as he lifts his chin to speak in Greg’s ear. “You need a breather, there?”

Greg feels a bit like that’s giving up, but he manages a jerking nod. He looks down, when Tom tugs him by the hands they had been holding to dance, and sees Tom’s is squarer than his, but just as large, and realizes with a hard swallow that he’s got a lot of thoughts racing that he’s been trying to avoid.

It turns out that Tom had actually meant air, not simply stopping their dance, as he leads Greg out onto a stone patio. He even takes a deep breath of the cool air, remarkably literal, as he lets go of Greg to lean on a stone half wall.

Greg stares at Tom’s back, rubbing absently at the lingering warmth in his hand. He lets his eyes trace across Tom’s broad shoulders, then down the seam of the jacket to his waist. It feels a little more lecherous than it normally might, more one-sided, since Tom would usually look back, then they’d both look away and pretend they hadn’t shared a thing.

“This is going to make me sound like some hopped up stalker,” Tom says, after a few moments of staring out across the green; he doesn’t see it though, it’s just dark for him, and now always will be, which feels like another point of failure. “Or a fucking moron addled by romance novels, but I… I’ve been drawn to you all night. Like a super powered magnet.”

Greg feels his jaw actually drop somewhat open. “You have?”

Tom hums a low confirmation, then he turns around to face Greg with an exaggerated, puffing sigh. “But maybe you’re just that tall.”

“Hah,” Greg mutters, dropping his head with a weak tilt of his chin. “Maybe.”

“Honestly, though,” Tom says, stepping closer, pushing away from the wall with a frustrated gesture of both his hands. “It was like my eyes went right to you whenever we were in the same room.”

“Oh, I – ” Greg shakes his head, but he really can’t remember Tom looking back at him. “I didn’t notice?”

“I hoped you wouldn’t,” Tom says, mouth flattening, as he offers a dismissive, flapping gesture. “It was…” He laughs, low, “It made my head hurt just a little. Literally.”

“I thought it – ” Greg takes a frustrated breath, as he shakes his head. “You said that was the, like – the plum wine?”

“I haven’t had that much,” Tom says, really seeming not to care enough, though he might if he knew about the spell. “But I really don’t think it’s a fucking aneurysm. I just keep… thinking about Romans, for some reason, as in the emperors.”

Greg briefly forgets about his own concern, as a croak of a laugh escapes him. “Really?”

Tom hums a confirmation. “Did you know the emperor Nero had a legion of men over 6 foot?”

“No,” Greg says, shaking his head while biting at his lower lip. He wonders if Tom had been saving that up and has accidentally just ruined it for himself. “I thought Romans were… sort of short?”

“They were a bit prejudiced when they were writing about Gauls, yes,” Tom muses, rolling his head back and forth, as a familiar condescending sort of smirk curves his mouth. “But Nero is a hundred years after Caesar kicked them hard.”

“Right,” Greg says, nodding with a weak lift of a shoulder. “I, uh… I really only know the history I live through.”

“That’s a pretty narrow window, bud,” Tom says, raising a brow, as he offers a plainly judgmental tilt of his chin.

Greg feels a wry smirk pull at the edge of his mouth. “…Sort of, yeah. But it’s getting wider.”

Tom holds his dubious expression for a beat, then breaks into a laugh with a shake of his head.

Greg can’t help when the smile grows wide and unwieldy across his lips.

“Look,” Tom says, taking a step back, then forward, lifting a hand oddly across his chest with a short lean into it. “You can take it or leave it, but I feel like I’ve got…” He exhales a weak puff, dragging his teeth hard across his lip. “I have to ask if you’ll take the stupid thing I’m supposed to give to someone I like, as if this is some rose exchange in middle school.”

Greg feels his expression collapse with surprise, hurriedly closing his mouth before his instinctually erupting fangs are visible along his smallteeth. He can’t help but think that it’s only been a dance and a conversation to Tom, and barely that, yet he already wants to exchange tokens? Greg isn’t sure if that … Is that normal? It can’t be.

“I know, I know, it sounds like I’m taking the cart here, and the rules said at midnight, yadda yadda,” Tom says, pacing a few steps one way down the patio, then turning and walking back, his hands spinning between them in a fussy gesture. “But I already know you’re the only could-be I’ve met tonight that I want to see again.”

Greg wets his lower lip, offering a weak turn of his head. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” Tom says, a sincere, tight sort of smile pinching at his mouth. “I really am, but… My ego can take it, if you want to do a little more looking.”

“I don’t, really,” Greg admits, scratching hard, then yanking into the small hairs on the back of his neck. “An-and I do feel the same, really, about like knowing you and looking at you, but… It’s just, uh… It’s complicated?” He shakes his head, slumping down onto a stone bench that the night makes cold through his thin trousers. “I didn’t even… I didn’t think I’d meet anyone.”

“Look, how about – ” Tom kneels down, which is absolutely awful, and then he makes it worse by pulling the actual tokenout of his inner jacket pocket. “We just do it, then figure it out later?”

“I – I don’t have a – ” Greg gestures, at a loss, as he stares at the bracelet with a tightness growing at the back of his throat.

Tom spins the bracelet around his fingers. “You really didn’t expect to meet anyone tonight? You’re hardly ugly, Greg. I can’t see enough of your face, but I think you’re probably put together just perfect.”

Greg bobs his head while he exhales a weak croak to clear his voice. “Okay, uh-uhm – ?” He lifts a hand, clumsily tugging at the pins holding the chain across his shirt collar. He looks down at the antlers, then up, offering them. “Is this okay?”

“Only if you’re willing to part with it,” Tom says, quiet and sincere, then he breaks the tension with a small snort. “Those’re definitely more your style.”

Greg answers with a weak huff. He only has them because of Tom, who he had been shopping with when he had seen a similar set in a display apart from the other jewelry. He had been interested, but concerned they were silver, so waved off the offer to pull them from the case; he’d gotten a surprise weeks later, when Tom presented him a near identical set cast in platinum.

He weaves the antlers between the chain and leaves them bound at Tom’s wrist. The points dig into his skin, leaving little rosy scratches of pressure, but Tom doesn’t seem to notice. “You can give them back.”

“Sure, I can,” Tom says, then he wets his lips, as he seems to hesitate with the token in his hand. He narrows his eyes at it, then throws it onto the bench. “You know what? I hate that.”

“Um?” Greg says, staring at the bracelet on the bench.

“If we’re using whatever, you can take this,” Tom says, as he begins to pull at his cravat, yanking it from his throat and leaving it somewhat indecently exposed for company. Of Greg. “A traditional sort of thing, like a knightly favor. I can’t even remember why I have that… bracelet.”

“Oh,” Greg intones, nodding in a jerky drop of his chin.

“No, no – Up,” Tom says, as he shakes out the cravat, only to just as quickly twist it back up. “You’re looking naked now.”

Greg slowly tilts his head back, anxiously wondering if he can have a heart attack, because it feels like it’s making a go for crawling up his throat. The feeling becomes especially bad when Tom straightens his shirt, as he ties the silk around it, because it feels… just like it had earlier in the night when he straightened the antlers.

“That’s funny,” Tom says, quietly, as he finishes tying the knot.

Greg hums a confused note.

“I thought it was just your hands, but you run pretty cold,” Tom says, as his knuckles gently press against Greg’s jaw, swiping up to the point of his chin. “Are you chilly?”

Greg feels his eyes widen. “Uh – ?” He slowly drops his head, wincing while he looks into Tom’s openly curious face, as he fails to come up with an excuse. He finds himself swallowing hard, thud getting worse, then he leans in and clumsily presses his mouth to Tom’s before he can think any more about it.

Tom inhales deep, pushing back with a rock forward on the balls of his feet. He seems to nearly lose his balance, as well, hand flattening on the bench beside Greg, while the other that had previously been across Greg’s jaw settles heavily onto his neck. He turns his head, seeming to try to deepen the kiss, mouth opening in a gasp between them, only for their masks to clatter together with dull thunks of leather and metal.

Greg pulls away with a small duck of his head, a flush in his face that’s probably the worst he’s ever had it.

“God, these things really get in the way, don’t they?” Tom says, reaching up and knocking a pair of knuckles against the cheek of his own. He stands from the ground, shaking out his hands with a shuttering sort of a laugh. “I’m glad to have met you and all, Greg, but I must have been real lonely and schnookered to sign up for this costume party.”

~

Tom jolts awake to a sharp series of honk from a car outside the window and covers his face with a groan, only to feel a dragging weight across his wrist. He peeks open his eyes, staring blearily at a pair of familiar platinum antlers locked across their chain. “Oh,” he chokes, shoving himself up on the mattress in a fumbling hurry. “Shit. Shit.”

The hazy memory filters in and what happened, how it happened, is all good, in a way – maybe even edging into great – but it’s so totally fucked. He let his heart get in the way of a plan he’s suffered and bled over for half a decade; how goddamn romantic.

He slumps back, playing with the chain, and manages somehow not to immediately reach for his phone. It eventually rings, anyway, as he’s spiraling with his eyes following the spinning ceiling fan, and it nearly startles him into the other side of the bed.

“Thomas,” greets an aged voice, once the line connects, tinged with ever-present gripe.

“Sir,” Tom says, closing his eyes for a few beats; evidently, his failure is worthy of a personal boast from the great hermit himself. “Good morning.”

Ewan grumbles out a rasping sigh. “Congratulations. I have been…” He pauses, exhaling another lengthy breath. “Convinced that you’ve passed.”

Tom peeks up at the shifting shadows of the curtains and the fanblades. …He what? Wait, does that mean he’s –

“I do not envy your position,” Ewan continues, “Gregory is not particularly… accountable, so you will likely have to be very explicit with him during the acclimation period if you want your needs met.”

Tom covers his face with a hand, breathing hard into his palm, then cracks his fingers open across his mouth. He’s pretty sure his smile would put the Joker to shame. “Shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“I’ve been convinced of that, as well,” Ewan says, in a way that might be wry, if it contained any particular humor.

Tom taps his fingers heavily against the side of his cheek. “Could I risk it all by asking why the special case?”

“No special cases,” Ewan says, sternly, setting hair up on the back of Tom’s neck from miles away. “The masque was used this way for centuries, not wasted on a single potential.” His voice resettles into an apathetic note. “And Marianne is to be head of the family, eventually, she’ll need backing unrelated to my brother, when the time comes.”

Tom raises brows with a bitten back choke of laughter. He thinks Logan must love that succession plan, after spending centuries grooming his own spawn. “I can… understand that position.”

“Good,” Ewan says, decisive, “She will also schedule and handle your conversion.”

Tom thinks he hears a protest in the background, just before the line goes dead, which explains a lot – he’s a test in responsibility, how fun. He’ll be shocked if the upcoming most-painful-experience-of-his-life-bordering-on-actual-death is any more formal than her showing up at the door with Greg at some random time between today and two months from now.

He rolls the phone in his hand, then tosses it up, grabbing it, and switching between apps until he finds the right name to tap. The phone rings in his ear far longer than usual, and that’s to be expected, but it finally connects on what must be the final ring.

“Gregory, hello there,” Tom says, raising his voice over a familiar mumble attempting to greet him down the line. “Tell me, did I suffer a wet dream, or did you really kiss me like a damsel under the moonlight?”

“Um, I…” Greg sighs, and it’s too easy to imagine his conflicted expression while he weighs his options. “It was a new moon?”

Tom exhales a quiet laugh through his nose.

Greg continues to hem and haw, to some concerning degree. “Sorry.”

“Are you?” Tom asks, pitching his voice in a taunt, trying to cover the small lurch in his gut.

“Yeah? I… I want you to be one of us, too, but I –” Greg exhales, rasping and harsh, down the line. “I didn’t try hard enough to…” He pauses, again, then clears his throat. “To shift your, uh – your amorous attention.”

Tom shoulders the phone, looking down and toying with the chain at his wrist. “Have you talked to your esteemed head of bloodsucking bastards?”

Greg is quiet for a beat. “Like, ever?”

“Like today,” Tom says, rubbing hard between his brows.

“Oh,” Greg intones, then clears his throat, preemptively weedy in the act. “No. My mom said she would. I-I don’t think he’s… he’ll really care about what I have to say? I can try, though – I should try, I mean. Yeah.”

Tom can hear the same note that Greg had in his voice last night, as he’d put the chain around his wrist. “I’m getting offended by how much you sound like the world is ending, bud,” he says, quirking a brow with a short click of his tongue. He knows Greg kissed first last night, which is doing a lot to bolster. “Was it that bad last night?”

“No, Tom, but if you’d… You know, pursued Shiv, then it wouldn’t matter, because after the setting period, we’d – ” Greg stutters into a pause, somewhat hissing into the receiver. “We could’ve probably worked it out sometime in… you know, essentially forever, but you didn’t, an-and now…”

Tom scrubs his face and is astonished how Greg can be both naïve and an absolute viper at the same time.

“Shiv was… really lame, too,” Greg continues, low and as derisive as he ever gets, being an enormous, centuries-old killing machine ever concerned someone might overhear him being unkind. “She likes you, she said, but she couldn’t do it. She said it would be – be like, a suckling on her soul, or something, like she was scared of having a mate like that. She didn’t even want to give you a chance.”

Tom drags his lip harsh against his teeth, a bit stung, a bit annoyed, too, but not exactly surprised. “Would you?”

Greg is quiet a few beats, then exhales a sullen, offended grumble. “I gave you a token.”

“And…” Tom says, slowly, dropping his voice into what he likes to think is a fairly friendly sort of patronizing developed just for Greg. “I didn’t give Shiv a second glance when you were standing next to her.”

Greg is quiet for a few seconds. “I guess.”

“Honestly, I…” Tom shakes the chain back around his wrist with a tut. “I think Shiv and I might like each other about the same.” He rolls his eyes across the room to the door, then over toward the window, exhaling a humorless laugh. “We don’t even sleep in the same room, anymore. It was iffy that we even applied for the masque.”

Greg mutters something tiny and unintelligible down the line, but it sounds a little derisive.

“But I’m ecstatic to hear you’re not wary of having a suckling babe on your soul,” Tom says, spinning the antlers around his wrist, delicately trying to unwrap them without further turning his skin patchwork or bending a delicate chainlink. “Because I have spoken the grand poobah treant – I passed.”

“Y-You did?” Greg says, voice pitching through the speaker, plainly blindsided by the news.

“He also implied it was mostly so I could white knight your mother, but that’s…” Tom feels a wide grimace pull at his mouth. “Pretty far out, one can hope.”

“No, but he – ” Greg exhales a breathy, hitched laugh. “Like, with me?”

“Yes, Gregory,” Tom says, leaning his head up and wedging his forearm against the pillow beneath it.

“I, like – I’ve never totally drained anyone,” Greg says, in a quiet, thoughtful mutter. His voice pitches, “What if I can’t stop… What if I like kill you?”

Tom rolls his eyes, as a bark of laughter edges around his voice. “Could we have a single good thought this morning?”

“…Sorry.”

[fatedroses]

Random 1am Tsu content because I am not immune to how pretty she is sometimes.

[frecklystars]

It's August 4th!!! It's my first anniversary with Sebastian 🥺💙

La La Land was the first Ryan Gosling movie I watched after Barbie. I wasn't hyperfocused on Ryan's characters at all yet (except Ken, but it was still so early); I wasn't planning on watching all of his movies. I didn't daydream about the "Mojo Dojo Casa Keri Ken Dreamhouse" with all of the Ryan F/Os all gathered together and chilling out in one big room. I had no idea I'd eventually have a whole group of F/Os I would get to love and cherish. After Ken, Sebastian was the very first "new" F/O, and tbh that's really impressive considering how badly I was hurting back then. I shouldn't have been able to feel so much love as I did, but!! I did!! And now here we are!! I've probably watched this musical over 30 times now, I've lost count. I don't go a day without humming at least one song from the soundtrack. It's such a comfort for me ;w;

I didn't immediately feel all of the self shippy love and butterflies in my chest when I first watched La La Land. I didn't feel safe self shipping w/ Seb at first; everything was still so fresh, I was still hurting. But I think feeling so safe and loved with Barbie and Ken helped me ease into eventually feeling safe with Sebastian. At that point in my life, that really shouldn't have worked out! But it did work out! I remember I kinda added him to the F/O list as a "kissed and thrown into the pile and never to be thought of again" kind of F/O when I first watched the movie. I thought to myself "well, that was a film and I didn't feel much, I probably will never watch it again." Famous last words lol. Despite telling myself I didn't like the movie, I kept thinking about the movie... again and again and again... for days... until I finally told myself "alright fine I guess I'll rewatch it!" and then I did, and I started to really love and enjoy it. And then I started to believe Sebastian would rly love and care for me, that I didn't have to be scared of him. And now here we are a year later :D

Self shipping with Sebastian has motivated me to try new things, or even pick up old hobbies. I've been playing the piano again for the first time in almost eighteen years, taking lessons and learning how to play City of Stars, bc it makes me think so fondly of him when I hear that song (of course). Loving Sebastian has made me want to try watercolor painting for the first time, because more than anything, I really really want to paint us together floating in the stars. I've even picked up sculpting, making a tiny little stage, posing little sculpted figures of me and Sebby dancing together. Sebastian is the whole reason why I've started making my own self ship versions of movie screenplays. He's inspired me and helped me come out of my comfort zone bit by bit.

It's amazing how Sebby has done so much for me, even though he isn't an F/O that I talk about as often as I do with Ken or Driver, he is still very much a main F/O who is so important and exceptional to me. I think he will always hold a very special place in my heart because he is the first Ryan F/O I picked up after Ken. I was hurting so badly back then, I shouldn't have felt as loved and safe as I did, but I did, and that means something to me. All of my Ryan F/Os have made me feel so safe and loved during this whole year when the feeling of safety was foreign to me, when feeling loved by F/Os became so unfamiliar. All of them are dear to me, and Sebby's positive effect he's had on me is noteworthy for sure. I think one of the many things about Sebastian I love the most is how supportive he is. I know if I ever wanted to get back into acting, he'd be my number one fan. The whole plot of La La Land is him endlessly supporting his his gf who wants to become an actor!! I just know he'd do the same for me. One day I'll feel brave enough, but until then, I am rly proud of myself for picking up piano and painting and sculpting - and hopefully one day, acting. In the meantime, it's so easy to imagine this guy giving me his full encouragement 24/7.

We fit so well, too. The whole City of Stars thing?? When I am the Star Girl™??? Not to mention how we both can feel so comfortable opening up to each other about our special interests (this man is super autistic and no one can change my mind on that. something something insert "he is literally me" meme here). I want him to infodump to me about jazz. I want to show him Nick Blaemire's jazz band and I want him to get excited about it, because Nick's jazz music is just as old fashioned, the kind Seb appreciates. I know he'd listen to me infodump too, he'd get all excited with me. I love daydreaming soft things with him - kisses in the rain, walks in the park, slow dancing among the stars, him playing the piano for me to try to lull me to sleep, me surprising him with little love notes and doodles posted all over hidden places in his apartment for him to find throughout his day, planetarium dates, movie dates, driving around in his 1982 Buick Riviera and holding hands, getting coffee together... I can go on.

Ok I've rambled enough. I'm so glad I am able to talk about an F/O who has brought me joy. Happy anniversary, Sebby. Thank you for helping me get through a really rough year. I hope we have many more together 💙💙💙

[princessmyriad]

.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

Yeah like what’s the point of even having anon features if they can’t use your website?????? Like on certain blogs I can’t even view them without being blocked????? I don’t understand????

And I can’t talk to people if they don’t have a submission box which is awkward because not many people have a submission box that I can see! -🌟

══════════════════ 

well the blog thing is most likely that some people have set it to not be visible outside the tumblr dashboard; some people just don’t want their blog viewable to anyone outside of tumblr and there’s a number of reasons why that could be, it’s their own personal decision

the submission/ask box thing can sometimes be a case i know of new users forgetting to turn it on, but sometimes too its deliberately turned off (or limited, like anons being turned off and only other users can ask qs) for, again, a number of different reasons (︶︿︶)

[drchucktingle]

Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you

well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck

what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)

now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.

what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too

on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen

so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.

YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO

it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries

somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.

this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.

when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)

and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art

because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.

and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS

SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED

there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it

here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you

do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in

LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR

create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT

then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'

now lets trot buckaroos

[moonstruckme]

i am so BUMMED when i realized ive read all of your polymarauders works. can i get more of them please? especially the one like the 'casual dominance' fic omgg. that one made me feel THINGS. btw!!! congrats on reaching the 1k mark. totally deserved <33

-🥀

Wow babe, that's a lot! I'm really glad you're enjoying them! I know I've written a few since you sent this in, but I decided to treat this as a request for specifically casual dom!marauders because I'm weak for them too :*

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Your teeth chatter as you step out of the fastest shower of your life, barely drying yourself off before starting on your makeup. You’re so dumb. You’re so, so dumb. Of course it’d be the night before your presentation that you’d accidentally set your alarm for PM instead of AM. How many times had you stirred, thought about getting up, and decided to wait until your alarm went off? It had only been when you’d woken to an empty bed, sunlight coming in through the window, that you’d realized. 

You’re still running on the adrenaline of that waking jolt, now mixed with the extra edginess from your frigid shower since you couldn’t afford to wait for the water to warm. You probably won’t be late, but you’re definitely going to be late by pre-presentation standards. You’d planned to get there a half hour in advance to set up and mentally prepare. Now you’re going to have ten minutes at best, and that’s only if you can get out the door in the next few. You finish with your makeup—your hair’s just going to have to dry on the way—and turn to where you’d hung your pre-selected and Sirius-vetted presentation outfit the night before. The hangers sit empty. 

You go into the bedroom, hoping one of the boys had laid them out on the bed while you’d been in the shower. Nothing. Just your socks and shoes where you’d left them by the bedroom door. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, pulling the socks on because you can do that, at least. “Shit shit shit!” 

You take off down the stairs, relieved to see Sirius on his way up. “Hey! Do you know where—” your foot hits too close to the edge of one step, slipping down to the next. It seems inclined to keep going, but Sirius’ hands catch you around the waist. 

“Shit, baby.” He looks down at your feet as you get them under you again, eyebrows drawn together. “Running down the stairs is already bad enough, but with socks on?” 

“Do you know where my presentation outfit went?” you ask in a rush. 

Sirius blinks. “No. It’s not where you left it?” You shake your head and decide this conversation is no longer a productive use of your time, moving past him. “Don’t run,” he says after you, and you slow to a slight hustle down the remaining steps. 

You practically skid into the kitchen, where Remus is just about to sit down at the table with his cup of coffee and James is running the blender. You raise your voice to be heard over it. “Do either of you know where my presentation outfit went?” 

James stops the blender. “Morning to you too, sweetheart. Everything okay?” 

You feel like you could burst into tears, but that would just waste more time. Why is no one cooperating with your need for efficiency?

“I’m going to be late!” you stress to James, turning around to survey the kitchen, the living room, like they’ll just be hanging in some random corner where you somehow forgot them. “I need my clothes, have you seen them?”

“Dove.” Remus sets his coffee down to take you by the shoulders. “Breathe. You’ve got time.” 

You exhale, trying not to twitch as your skin crawls with urgency, or to lecture him on how little time you actually have. Remus watches you patiently. His hands slide up to either side of your face once you no longer seem like a flight risk, thumb stroking your cheek. 

“Your outfit’s in the dryer,” he says in a soothing voice, still holding you as if to keep you from running off. “I was warming it up while you were in the shower.” 

Your next inhale scrapes on the way in, a grateful pressure building behind your eyes. “Rem, that’s so sweet,” you say. “Thank you.” 

Remus gives you a smile and a little shrug, more casual than the faint pinkness of his cheeks would suggest. He lets his hands skim back down your neck, giving your upper arms a light squeeze. “Why don’t you let it finish running while you have your breakfast, yeah? That way there’s no risk of spilling on it.” 

You shake your head, aware this won’t go over well but too anxious to worry much about it. “I don’t have time for breakfast,” you tell him. “I need to catch the bus in, like—” Your eyes search for a moment before landing on the microwave clock. “—five minutes.” 

“I’ll drive you,” Sirius says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he comes back downstairs.

You glance at the microwave clock again in case you read it wrong the first time. “You can’t,” you say. “You’ll be late.” 

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t have a presentation. They’ll deal with it.” 

You look to Remus, expecting him to object to Sirius’ proposed tardiness, but he only nods, sitting down with his coffee. 

“Are…are you sure?” you ask Sirius, trying to adjust to the sudden non-urgency of your situation. 

“It’s no problem,” he promises you. “Stop looking so upset, honey, just eat your breakfast.” 

“Drink your breakfast, is more like it,” James says proudly, coming in from the kitchen to pass you a glass of whatever he’d been concocting in the blender. It’s a murky brown-green, and you try not to wrinkle your nose for James’ sake. 

“Thanks.” You take it from him tentatively. “It’s…it’s a smoothie?” 

James laughs at your expression, and you think you hear Remus snort into his coffee. “Yes, it’s a smoothie. The color’s because of the chocolate protein powder and the spinach, but it’s got fruit, too, don’t worry.” 

You swirl the glass a bit, assessing the color. “Why so much spinach?”

James sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you into your chair as he joins the three of you at the table with a smoothie of his own. “Iron, sweetheart.” He casts a pointed glance at your legs, spotted here and there with purple-and-yellow blotches of skin. “Seems like you need it. You’re bruising like a peach lately.” 

Remus hums in agreement as you take a tentative sip of the smoothie. It’s not bad, though you can feel little bits of spinach sticking to your teeth. You make a mental note to have Sirius check your smile before you get out of the car later.

“And I saw that look in your eyes when you stood up too fast from the couch yesterday,” Remus says, quirking an eyebrow when you look at him in surprise. “You’re not as subtle as you think, dove.” 

You bring the glass to your lips again to avoid making a response. Sirius laughs, and when you smile sheepishly, his grin turns goofy. “Hold it there,” he says, taking your jaw in hand. You keep your smile in place as his eyes narrow. “Front tooth on the left. My left.” You lick at the piece of spinach, and he nods, dropping his hand. 

“Knew I could count on you,” you tell him. “Thanks, Siri.” 

Sirius pecks you on the cheek. “S’what I’m here for, gorgeous.”

[pupyuj]

→ “little things.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— being away from weeks too long from your girlfriend has led you into thinking all the horrible things about yourself that you thought you had shut down long ago, but of course yujin wouldn't let that slide...

word count: 6.3k.

dynamic: soft dom!ahn yujin x sub!reader.

warnings: hurt/comfort (emphasis on hurt...), angst, reader suffers a depressive episode, praises, reassurance, cunnilingus, fingering.

requested?: yes!

a/n: 2/4 requested fics done! we're almost there! i hope the anon that requested this months ago is still lurking around to read this, and i hope they're in a better place now as they told me that this request came to be because of their struggles ;~; anon, please know that you are loved by a lot of people no matter what you may think of yourself ❤️‍🩹 i hope you all will love this fic as much as i loved writing it 💞 definitely hit a little close to home 😆

your girlfriend loved you more than it was humanly possible to love another person, but you were somehow convinced that she didn’t.

because how could she? she’s ahn yujin—a top-class idol, a beloved entertainer widely known throughout the country and even the damn world! she’s the leader of one of south korea’s best girl groups in history, she’s so famous that her face is plastered all over billboards, ads, articles, posters, screens… ahn yujin was a real treasure. and you? a mere secretary in a moderately famous game company. it was the real workings of fate that made you and yujin meet right outside of your company building where you were crying at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance doors after receiving yet another senseless sermon from your boss. yujin just so happened to be walking her precious dog in the area and was kind enough to waste her time comforting a stranger.

though at the time, you hadn’t known it was yujin due to her being disguised as a random passerby. that was until she took off her hat, face mask, and colored hair extensions that you finally realized where you’d seen those cute dimples before—the tv screens. you didn’t make a big fuss out of being face to face with a literal golden celebrity, and yujin appreciated that a lot. so much so that she opted to stay with you on the concrete until she was able to lift your spirits. of course the two of you said your goodbyes, but both of you knew in your hearts that you would meet again someday.

and that proved to be true merely three weeks later; when all six members of ive, as well as their staff members, graced the conference room in a meeting for a collaboration with one of your company’s most popular games. you and yujin stared at each other with soft smiles and loudly-beating hearts—it was the start of a warm friendship, and an even warmer relationship when yujin finally got the guts to ask you out on a date after having been friends and colleagues for a year.

now, in your sixth year as a couple, you should be happier than ever. you’ve created the most euphoric of memories with yujin, shared the loveliest of promise rings, kissed the best of kisses, and you’ve even sworn to each other that when things calm down on yujin’s end then the two of you would settle in together, live in the same house, and eventually, if fate allows it so, get married. it all had been exciting, of course. you knew that yujin was the love of your life and that you would be the luckiest girl in the world to be her wife, but there has always been this tiny little voice in your mucked-up brain that is always telling you things you didn’t want to be true… and yet they might be.

that you might not be enough for yujin.

that you’re nothing but a problem to yujin.

that somebody else was better for yujin.

that you are not at all loved by yujin.

for a while, you blocked this voice out because not only did yujin make sure that you know that she loves you, she made you feel it. whether it was from her kisses, her touch, her thoughtful gifts, the meals she cooked for you, the late night drives she always takes you on every other friday, and even from the way she simply looked at you; you could feel every single drop of the love she held for you, and there was a lot. however, you hadn’t been able to shake the voice off for a while now and it didn’t help that you and yujin hadn’t seen each other for quite some time due to both of you being abnormally busy.

you always hated doubting yujin, but it wasn’t your fault. between the weeks you’ve been apart, the less-than-thirty-minutes calls on yujin’s breaks, and every text where yujin tells you that she can’t spend the night with you, it was easy to believe that she might be pulling away. something you hated even more than doubting your girlfriend is asking yourself the ‘what if?’ questions: “what if i’m bothering her?”, “what if i’m distracting her?”, “what if she’s come to hate me?”, “what if she met someone else?”, and the worst of it all, “what if she’s falling out of love?”

ridiculous and stupid to think about, let alone even entertain the thought. but that damn voice…

that damn voice has led you to barely eating breakfast before you left for work today. it led you to perform your tasks poorly at work, but you were lucky that your new boss (the old one, the asshole, was fired a few years ago for verbally abusing his employees)  was understanding and kind and let it all slide. it led you to skipping lunch completely, making you work for nine hours straight with barely any breaks. it led you to collapsing on your bed after you’d gotten home, sobbing pathetically into your pillow when you realized that yujin hasn’t sent you a single text today at all.

shit, what if the voice was right?

you fell asleep in your bed crying that night, in your work clothes and all. you had a dreamless sleep, but it wasn’t the kind of dreamless that was comforting or funny in a way you could make fun of it for being nothing. it was the kind that weighed heavily in your heart when you woke up and didn’t see your girlfriend snoring right beside you. and not even in your dreams did you get a chance to see her. how cruel.

you could barely get yourself to stand up and make a small breakfast—you knew yujin wouldn’t like it if she caught you skipping your meals. and right after that, you dragged your feet in the bathroom and had the saddest shower of your life. at least you didn’t have to cry all that much in there. it was pure silence from your end, with only the sound of the water running and the faint noises of the television in your room accompanying you while you washed yourself. you couldn’t remember the last time you had taken a shower with your girlfriend, it was always one of your favorite things to do with her but only because you liked the way she would insist on washing your hair and how she would smile so brightly when you agreed.

ah, great. now you miss her even more.

you couldn’t bring yourself to do much after that shower. you bundled yourself up with blankets and stared blankly at the television, waiting until another day without yujin passes. much to your annoyance, time was moving a lot slower than usual. as if the universe wanted to shove it in your face that you’re spending all this time alone. you think your phone buzzed a few times, but you didn’t even have the energy to turn your head and look at it. instead, your mind wanders to the possibility that it was anyone but yujin that was trying to contact you, and that just made your heart waver.

you let yourself wallow in your own sadness in the darkness of your room, crying softly and quietly. maybe if you disappear underneath all of your pillows and blankets then yujin will finally forget about you. would she say “good riddance”? you hated that thought, but you wouldn’t blame yujin if that was how she felt. soon enough, you’ve completely lost your sense of time. your eyes hurt from crying, your head throbbed with so much pain that you wanted to get medicine just to get it to shut up but you couldn’t be bothered to move an inch from where you were, and your entire body aches from having been in the same position for hours.

you begged the earth to swallow you whole, but not before erasing the memory of your existence from everyone’s minds completely just to spare yujin the pain of losing someone she loves. loved.

it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, especially when all you’ve been doing was cry your heart out. despite everything, you were afraid of what your fragile mind would do once you wake up without yujin by your side again. she never even liked it when you got something as small as a papercut. you can’t imagine how she would react if…

god, what were you thinking? how did you get here? is this really going to be your life whenever yujin wasn’t around to help you keep your demons at bay? you are stronger than this. you know that better than anyone. better than what they all give you credit for. get up. you repeated those two words like a prayer in your head until your body cooperated with you—sitting up and leaning your back against the headboard. good job. you took that untouched glass of water from the night table and took one big sip. that’s even better. small steps for others, but very big for you. it was enough for you to decide to not allow your mind to wander and focus on something. you wouldn’t feel any better (it was never that quick), but at least you wouldn’t be thinking about such horrible things.

and when you started getting lost in the cooking show that was playing on the television, it was impossible for you to hear the door to your dingy apartment creak open.

ahn yujin was home. finally. she could drop to her knees and cry right at your adorable ‘welcome’ mat by the door. your scent was all over your apartment and it was enough to immediately relieve the young celebrity of all of her worries and stress. she had been hoping to find you scuttling about in your kitchen since you loved reading your cookbooks there and checking if you had the correct ingredients for a dish or dessert you want to whip up impulsively, and as soon as yujin spotted you, she would’ve jumped into your arms and kiss you until you were sick of her lips on your skin. she missed you so much and all she wanted to do was be with you and celebrate the collection of good news that she has for you… but even before seeing pretty much all the lights in your apartment turned off, yujin knew something was horribly wrong.

yujin had been busy the whole day. from filming for variety shows, brand photoshoots, and magazine interviews, she didn’t have much time to do anything else. she had all the energy for it though but not because she just so happened to love her job, but she also knew that after all of it was over, she could finally go home to the love of all her lives and do everything she has been wanting to do with her without interruptions. as soon as she changed out of her work clothes and got her makeup off, yujin texted you. she told you she missed you, asked you to get ready ahead of time because she was going to pick you up and take you out on a short drive around the city before sitting down for a romantic dinner with a breathtaking view of the sunset in her friend’s fancy restaurant.

but you never replied to her messages. you didn’t even see them. that was the first sign and truthfully, it was all yujin needed to know. yujin knew you wouldn’t be doing much today so surely you would have at least tried to look at her messages even if you were occupied with something. rather than getting pouty about it, yujin was instead really worried. what if you were angry with her because she hasn’t been with you for so long? she couldn’t imagine someone so mature like you would get mad at something she can’t control and you have been apart from each other like this before and there weren’t any problems then! but… maybe that was just what you made it look like so yujin wouldn’t have to lose her head thinking about your well-being.

which would be insane, by the way. yujin believes that she isn’t the smartest person alive, but she should know when the woman closest to her heart is having a hard time. she should… and somehow she managed to not. yujin stands frozen in the cold kitchen, realizing that all this time, you were probably just putting up a strong front for her. and every day she was gone, you were dealing with things she should’ve been helping you with instead of just leaving it all for until she comes back home to you. fuck.

panic rises in yujin when she doesn’t see the lights turned on in the vacant bedroom either. if you weren’t trying to cook or waiting for yujin in the living room while getting some reading done, you would be in that bedroom working. so now yujin knows that you were holed up in your bedroom, and that alone was enough to send her running all the way to the other side of your small apartment, ready to burst through your door… until she gets a hold of herself. she prayed to the gods that you were okay, and that you were unharmed. she could hear the faint, muffled sounds of your favorite cooking show inside but you weren’t laughing.

an eerily silent (y/n) was never a good sign. slowly, yujin turned the knob and opened the door. she finds her heart breaking in two when she sees you curled up in your bed. you were barely even watching the show. between the half empty glass of water in the night table, your dirty work clothes in disarray on the carpeted floor, your adorable and fluffy panda indoor slippers haphazardly shoved underneath your bed, and the fucking pitiful state that you were in, it didn’t take yujin a split second to even know that it was definitely one of those days for you… but so much worse than what she was used to seeing.

“(y/n), honey…?”

yujin doesn’t wait for a response. she sits on the small empty spot beside you as you weakly and slowly turn around to face her. you looked exhausted. your eyes were red, puffy, and half-lidded which yujin assumes were from crying. she hated that she hadn’t been with you throughout all of this, as in at all. when she was gone, she could barely message and call you and even when she got home, she would still be occupied with something work-related or she would be too exhausted to do anything else. she needed to make it up to you. she has to. starting now.

“i’m home,” yujin brushes your hair away from your face. she leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead, and she stays still for a few seconds to truly savor the moment of being back in your presence after such a long time. she felt safe, she was at peace. away from the cameras, the lights, and the fake smiles. now she has to return the favor. “i’m sorry i took so long…” yujin lays in bed with you, taking your figure into her arms and allowing you to melt into her after weeks too long. yujin fully expected you to cry and break down, and she truly would have just let you while pouring all of her love to you… but you were damn near silent.

there was no way you were angry. if you were, you wouldn’t even hug yujin nor would you let her come near you at all. you nestled your face comfortably on her chest, holding her like you don’t even want her to think of going anywhere else. not even a few minutes since yujin joined you and the two of you were already a mess of tangled limbs in your bed due to how close you held onto her—it was enough proof of just how much you missed her. if it hadn’t been for the fact that the television was on, yujin wouldn’t have been able to see the deep solemn look in your eyes as you looked up at her. the silence weighed heavily in the air; both of you had things to say to each other but there was so much that neither of you knew where to start.

however, now that she was in your arms, you had no problem just going back to hiding your face in the crook of her neck and just appreciating how you didn’t have to go even longer without her. yujin didn’t dare to complain, of course. whatever you thought you needed, she would happily give you and if silently cuddling was just that, then so be it. you stayed like that for a whole half hour, only occasionally raising your head to look at yujin as if not looking at her for too long would make her disappear suddenly. but no, yujin has been away from you for too long that at this point she doesn’t even want to leave your side ever again.

“i thought you’d forget about me.”

you spoke so suddenly and that yujin thought she must’ve imagined it. she feels you clutch her shirt tightly, and what she doesn’t know is that you were fighting back your tears. you wanted to celebrate having your girlfriend back, of course, but your sadness managed to beat your delight for once. this time, you couldn’t stop your fears from showing and as much as you didn’t want yujin to lose her head comforting you, you also just needed her to tell you that it was all going to be okay.

meanwhile, yujin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. she hoped that you wouldn’t take her silence the wrong way; she was only processing your question in her head to make sure that did hear it correctly. forget you?

“that’s impossible. why would i?” she was quite offended by the question, actually. but that was something she’ll make fun of another day.

“i thought that perhaps being around other successful, accomplished people could wake you up and make you see that… that i’m worthless compared to all of them,” you refused to meet yujin’s eyes as you spoke. you knew you would just break into tears and nothing would be solved. “that’s what everybody used to say… remember? during the first few months after our relationship got leaked to the public. a ‘normie’ dating ahn yujin… i was afraid you’d start to think that way too after being gone for so long.” 

that indeed was quite the dark time. yujin fought tooth and nail to tell everyone that you were worthy of her and if anything, she was the lucky one in this relationship because you’re so perfect in her eyes. she got scolded by her management for being unprofessional when she got worked up on live television about it all but it was worth it making those rude entertainers shut up and avoid her gaze for the rest of filming. not one person dared to speak ill about you around yujin ever again after that, not even in online articles and gossip sites! especially after they saw how inexplicably happy she was to be with you. 

yujin thought you could see that, too. she smiled the biggest when she was with you, laughed the loudest, and shined the brightest too. so hearing you say all of this… well, to say that yujin was in disbelief would be an understatement.

“(y/n)... you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. what more could i ask for than meeting and falling in love with the most amazing girl in the world?” yujin hoped that this would be enough to ease your worries enough that you could finally look her in the eye, but instead you let go of her and rolled to your other side—away from her. any other day those words would’ve been enough to make you smile and tease yujin for being such a cornball despite the seriousness of the situation… but today, you cried instead. 

yujin, however, doesn’t miss a beat. she wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “i love you. no matter what you think—i love you.” she spoke every word with conviction. her tone strong enough for you to not only accept her words but absorb it in every fiber of your being. yujin holds you tightly as you cried in her arms, whispering words of affirmation here and there while also peppering your shoulders, neck, and ear with her soft kisses. she wouldn’t even care if this was what the two of you did for the rest of the day, just as long as she gets to see you smile and be yourself again. 

for yujin, that was when you were the most beautiful—being happy and unapologetically you.

neither of you bothered to keep track of how long you were in that position, but you did eventually stop crying. the television kept on playing its shows, the sun had started to set outside your closed blinds, and yujin was finally starting to feel all the work she’d done in the day catch up to her body. she had assumed that you’ve fallen asleep with how quiet and still you’ve gotten… but then you finally faced her again. this time, you were staring right in her eyes. and as if this was the first time you’ve done it, yujin’s heart skips a beat.

“i missed you so much… i couldn’t spend another day without you.” you told her in a weak, raspy voice.

yujin smiles, “me too. i’m so happy i get to be here, finally...” she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. she takes her time to get familiar with your features once again, all while unknowingly leaning closer and closer to you. you close your eyes, waiting for what you have been needing for the longest time, until yujin gets a hold of her senses and finally puts her lips on yours. it might have been the softest kiss you’ve shared with her as yujin was careful with the way her lips moved against yours. but even a kiss as heavenly as this was enough to fill your heart with flowers… so when yujin slowly makes her way on top of you whilst her kisses get hungrier, your stomach was a storm of butterflies.

you started to unbutton her loose casual dress shirt, an act that mildly upset you since yujin looked so handsome in it… but she looked better with it off, and you needed to feel her skin on yours. once you’ve dropped the shirt on the floor beside your bed, your hands glide down yujin’s back with your heart beating erratically at the feeling of her muscles beneath your fingertips. yujin slots a knee in between your legs and thank goodness for that actually—the buzz in your core was not going to go away by itself, after all.

yujin’s lips were now on your neck, eager to leave a mark on every inch of your skin tht was visible while pressing her knee against your clothed pussy. you moaned, your pretty voice making yujin’s ears tingle and raising her excitement enough to slide a hand inside your shirt and cup your bare boob. you started to slowly grind against her knee, sighing blissfully at the feeling. you weren’t a big fan of… playing with yourself to satisfy your needs if yujin just so happened to be gone. her hands always knew you so much better than you did yourself. because not only did she know your heart, but she knew your body too. knew exactly which spots to hit, which part of your skin to suck on to get the most noises out of you, and how you like it all best. 

when you moan again after yujin brushes a finger across your hardened nipple, she raises her head with fear in her irises. “t-this… probably isn’t the right time for this, isn’t it? god… i’m sorry, baby, i-i went overboard… i just wanted to kiss you but… i couldn’t resist touching you too…” yujin says with those adorable puppy eyes. always have to be such a gentlewoman, this one. it was one of your main reasons for falling in love with her as that aspect of her made her so much more charming in your eyes.

as soon as you feel her moving her hand away, you stop her. “this is the perfect time, hon. i missed you… and right now, all i want is your hands on me.” you trap her knee in between your legs and press harder against it, showing yujin just how much you wanted her to touch you.

yujin was still uncertain about it all, however. “a-are you sure? we don’t have to if you’re not feeling we—”

“yujin,” you said sternly. you took her face in your hands and kissed her nose, finally smiling at her. yujin feels her heart making a mess inside her ribcage. “believe me. i’m sure.” after six whole years of dating, you still manage to make it feel like she was falling in love at first sight all over again. you’ve both grown as people since your little meet-cute, of course, but to yujin, you will always be that beautiful girl on the steps of that dingy building with the prettiest pair of eyes yujin has ever seen. and so with your confirmation, yujin was no longer hesitant to grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head.

she was touching you in a way that reminded you of your first intimate night together all those years ago. nervous touches, and even more nervous kisses. even the way yujin was adamant to take things as slowly and steadily as possible was the same. you didn’t complain, though. as much as you wanted your girlfriend to get it going already, you also wanted to savor this moment and make the night last. judging by how yujin hasn’t told you any devastating news about her schedule staying busy yet, you figured that the two of you now have all the time in the world to be together… so hell, why not take your time?

yujin places her hands on your hips as she sits up, opting to stare at you and ogle at your perfect body for seconds too long. she was just as desperate to feel you as you were desperate for her to show you how much she missed you, but her disciplined hands kept her from doing anything too rash. it was adorable—how glaringly obvious it was that yujin just wanted to rip your clothes off and take you however she wants to, but being the sweetheart she is, she acts according to your wants and needs. she then went on to unbutton and unzip your jean shorts, but she doesn’t pull it off of you. she slides her hand underneath the waistband of your panties and moans at the feeling of your bare cunt on her fingers.

“mmhn… i missed touching you… you have no idea how many times i wanted to walk out of a set to go home to you, and listen to something so much more pleasant than a director telling me how to do my job,” yujin parts your lips with two of her fingers and uses a third to slowly feel up your slit. you were drenched already. obviously you’ve wanted this for such a long time that no one can blame you for getting wet so easily. “do you know what that is, darling?” yujin asks. she lowers herself to your chest and gives your nipple a scrutinizingly slow lick before catching it in her warm mouth.

you were too focused on the feeling to answer her question. your hand digs through yujin’s hair, gripping it and pushing her head closer while simultaneously grinding your hips faster on her hand. yujin dips two fingers inside of your pussy but stops there, opening her eyes and letting go of your nipple, “your voice. let me hear you.” she finally shoves both fingers inside your cunt, relishing in the way you arched your back and allowed your beautiful voice to invade her ears.

you were tight around her fingers, as always. it was just how yujin liked it. something about how her fingers can’t always move in and out smoothly because your walls loved to just suck her in always made her embarrassingly wet. her next favorite thing was watching you as she fucked you; your pretty face making all sorts of expressions at every thrust and every brush of her thumb against your clit just scratched the right parts in yujin’s brain. she can’t help but want more, and more she will certainly take. yujin feels horrible about not being there enough for you during such a hard time… she should’ve figured that leaving you alone with barely anything to distract you would’ve hurt you the way it did.

“i should’ve called more… i should’ve ignored all the risks of my manager nagging at me and visited you, even just for a short while…” yujin peppers your chest with kisses as her pace increases. you couldn’t even be bothered to say anything to her—not when you were overwhelmed with how good she filled you up with only two fingers. every time her palm slammed against your wrist with how hard she was fucking you now, all the embarrassing whines and moans you tried holding back were free to be heard… but it turns out that yujin loved it all so much so there was nothing to be shy about at all.

so you stopped being self-conscious about it all, allowing all of the sinful noises to come out of your mouth just as yujin liked it. while you were busy getting lost in the pleasure, yujin had lowered herself enough to be kissing your stomach. pure desire radiated from her dark eyes, and you didn’t even notice that she had pulled off both your shorts and panties from your body until you could feel her hot breath fanning against your pussy. she pulls her fingers out, but quickly replaces the void inside you with her tongue. she knew that you were the weakest when she used her mouth on you so she was quick to intertwine your fingers to keep you grounded and focused on all of the feelings she was giving you without being too overwhelmed by it all.

“ahh.. mmn… you must’ve missed this too, huh, baby?” yujin opens her eyes and looks up at you with a grin. you were already making quite the mess on her face, but really, that wasn’t entirely your fault. yujin liked it messy, and if she could, she would make you cum to the point of showering herself in your juices but she wanted to take it easy tonight. for you, of course. between you covering your face with your arm, your chest heaving up and down from you taking deep breaths, and your grip on yujin’s hand getting tighter by the second, it was all enough for yujin to keep doing what she does best.

she ate you out like it was her first and last time, too. humming and moaning in approval while she was either deep inside your walls with her tongue or as she sucked on your sensitive clit. the latter action made your legs shake and grab yujin’s hair, not caring about her seeing all the faces you were going to make the longer she went about using her tongue on the hard bud. she put one hand on your inner thigh and pushed it back, opening your legs up even more for an easier time and actually ending up digging her nails on your skin with how hard you were gripping her scalp. she liked the pain and you were going crazy over the pleasure she gave you; it was a win-win!

every time you whined her name, it only adds to yujin’s ever-growing need to give you the best orgasm you’ve had in a while. or even ever. “god… you’re so fucking pretty. i must’ve… heh.. saved the fucking planet in another life or something… or else it doesn’t make sense how i just so happened to meet a goddess in this lifetime…” yujin smiles at you as she says this, giggling at how you blushed wildly and looked away. yujin believed in her heart that you were the most beautiful girl she would ever meet in her life—you just happened to be too humble to accept the alleged ‘facts’ that your lovely girlfriend believed.

deciding that you probably can’t take anymore teasing, yujin presses her thumb on your clit and pushes her tongue back inside you. she proceeds on rubbing your clit harshly, wincing slightly as you were starting to hurt her with your nails on her scalp. the noises that you released gave yujin nothing short of ecstasy, only encouraging her to be better, go deeper, until you finally, finally let go of yourself on her tongue. delicious. yujin keeps her lips on your pussy as you cum, slurping up your juices as best as she can, yet never having enough to actually get herself to stop.

it was a few minutes after you’ve come down from your high and yujin was giving your exhausted cunt the tiniest of licks that she heard something new. something she hadn’t heard before when the two of you got intimate like this. she missed a few others as the sound of her sucking up your wetness with so much hunger and desperation toppled over literally every other noise, but yujin was sure that she didn’t mistake that noise when she did finally hear it. a soft, tiny sob… coming from you.

you’ve been crying, and yujin had been unaware. “oh, no… i’m so sorry, honey. i-i didn’t think—did i hurt you?” yujin immediately takes you in her arms, remembering that it was the place where you felt safest. she immediately regretted going overboard when she did. how could she forget that you weren’t in the right state of mind to entertain her gimmicks? fuck, she felt beyond heartbroken to be the cause of your tears right now when she was supposed to be the very person that made them go away.

“no… no, i’m okay,” you said in tears. once you looked at yujin whose cute face was all scrunched up with worry, you ended up laughing. yujin was so confused. “i promise. you didn’t hurt me, yujin-ah.” you squeezed her shoulder and giggled even more, making yujin laugh in return but in a more… nervous and uncertain way.

“w-wha… are you sure? why are you crying then?” yujin couldn’t help her smile and hug you, rocking you back and forth out of relief. how could yujin ever hurt you, anyway? you knew in your heart that she wasn’t capable of any of that, ever.

“i don’t know… but i’m alright, i swear.” you reached up and kissed her nose. giggles erupt from the two of you when yujin starts attacking your face with kisses—it was all part of her master plan to hear more of your laugh, of course. one of the biggest things she has been missing throughout the weeks she was away. 

eventually, the two of you merely laid still on your bed in each other’s arms once again, staring blankly at the television. you’ve started to feel sleepy too since you did spend a lot of the day crying, and now yujin was threading your soft locks after she fucked you so good that you ended up crying! no wonder you were drowsy. you found yourself laying on top of your girlfriend’s chest, fighting back sleep by blinking it all away and opting to stare at yujin’s face instead. every time she asked you a question (“do you need water?”, “are you cold?”, “should we take a shower together?”) you replied with a lazy hum and weak shake of your head, neither accepting or denying whatever she offered you.

“you look tired, hon… you can take a nap. when you wake up, i’ll either have cooked you dinner or… um, i’ll have ordered our favorite take-out! how do you feel about japanese food tonight?” yujin asks. you hum again, but refuse to fully close your eyes. you opened them every few seconds, seemingly checking if yujin was still there every time you did. of course, yujin notices your intent and pinches your cheek. “i’ll be right here when you wake up. don’t worry.” yujin plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“mm… promise?” you pouted. gosh, you were far too cute for yujin’s weak heart.

“of course. we won’t have to worry about running out of time for a while.” yujin pulls a soft, thick blanket over your body and smiles as you immediately start drifting off. she kisses your forehead again, feeling a sudden surge of pure love washing over her as the feeling of having you sleep in her arms again was… home. yujin’s smile widened when she remembered just what she intended to surprise you with if you had seen her message and went with her to that romantic dinner with the sunset.

it was a surprise that she would have to wait another day to unveil—a surprise that came in the form of a breathtaking diamond ring that would’ve completed the beautiful picture that is your love story.

[bronz3y]

alessia russo x reader - first time

a/n - hiya guyss, ive finally gotten some notivation to write (about fucking time) , ill be doing a couple of asks ive had for a few weeks too, so hopefully writing becomes more frequent from now on

no promises tho :,)

anyways enjoy this smutty alessia fic lol x

summary : r and alessia have been dating for 2 months, and neither of them have been brave enough to iniciate anything more than a steamy makeout, untill a needy alessia decides otherwise.

warnings: a lotta fluffy smut

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You and alessia had been officially together for 2 months now, you'd both met through Leah, since your Leah's cousin, you had been invited to her birthday party, you had both exchanged numbers and from that night onwards, you'd texted every day, and eventually you asked her on a coffee date and she responded “took your time, and yes, i'd love too x”

After 4 weeks of going on dates and getting to know each other, a very red Alessia asked you to be her girlfriend while walking on the beach, a gorgeous sunset colouring the sky with oranges, yellows and blues, Alessia's freckled face glowing from the shine of the slowly falling sun, her smile growing as you immediately say yes and wrap your arms around her, her warmness enveloping you.

You felt warm

 you felt safe 

You felt loved

Now 2 months later, you are at Alessia's apartment, you both took turns inviting each other over, one week at Alessia’s, one week at yours, you preferred to stay at Alessia's apartment more, her cosy decor made it feel more homey than yours, and truthfully, you also wanted cuddles from her gorgeous grey cat. You also loved the sweet smell of alessia covering every room, it made you warm inside, her familiar vanilla scent made your heart flutter.

“ pebble!, don't smack me” alessia huffed as her cat swatted her cheek while she walked past her on the sofa, the two of you covered in warm fluffy blankets, your head on her shoulder as you watched some random romcom you found on netflix.

“Maybe she smacked you because you took away her favourite toy” you argued laughing, alessia rolled her eyes at you.

“Baby that toy makes so much noise, we couldn't hear the film” she whined, you laughed and cuddled your face into her neck, pecking it softly, as your lips made contact with the soft skin of her neck a second time, alessia sighed shakily, moving her head back, giving you more space to work with. 

You and Alessia, unlike other couples in a two month relatioship, hadnt had sex yet, sure you both had very intense make outs, but once you both reached a point you just stopped and didn't take it further, it's not that you didn't want to do it with her,you definitely did, it's just you were scared, scared of messing up or embarrassing yourself, youd had your fair share of one night stands, but it had been a while since you had fucked a girl, so naturally youd start to overthink if things got too far and quickly stopped it.

“ y/n..that feels so nice–fuck” Alessia swore as you bit down softly, leaving a red mark on her neck, you soothed it with your warm tongue, leaving shiny residue behind, you leaned back a bit, looking at the cute mark you had left on Alessias pale skin, her hands then found your hips and guided you to sit on her lap, her thumbs stroking the exposed skin from your slightly risen shirt, her head slightly turned away from you, looking at her hands on your waist.

“Lessi?” you said softly, looking at the overwhelmed expression on her face, her eyes avoiding you.

“Baby, talk to me” you tried again, reaching your hand to her jaw, softly pushing it so she would look at you.

“y/n.” she said, finally meeting your eyes, she leaned forward, your faces inches apart, so close that you could smell her minty breath.

“Less?” you whispered, not used to the way she was looking at you, it was something that you'd only seen a couple of times when the kissing got intense.

 Alessia looked hungry.

Alessia then gently grabbed your wrist and moved your hand onto her chest, your eyes widened and you felt a shiver run up your back.

“Touch me, please” alessia whispered, her hooded eyes staring into yours.

You took in a small breath and gave her a small nod, you dragged your shaky hand slowly down her body, from the middle of her chest to where you could feel her pretty abbs under her white shirt, her hard nipples noticeable through the thin fabric.Alessia leaned slightly forward, starting to kiss your exposed shoulder, you collarbone and up you neck, you slightly lifted alessia's shirt, slipping your hand underneath, your cold hands touching her warm skin, you felt her shiver at your touch, smiling to yourself, you moved your hands up once again, placing them under the curve of her breast.

“Fuck, y/n hurry” alessia breathed out, you smirked at her neediness.

“Maybe if you ask nicely” you teased, you heard her let out a huff at your words.

“Please baby i need you, please just touch me” alessia whined, you'd seen alessia needy before, a few times, but this was new, and you loved it.You smiled at her and began lifting her top up slowly.

“Can i?” you whispered, alessia nodded at your words.

“Words baby” you said softly

“Yes, please just take it off” she whined, that was all the confirmation you needed, you started lifting her top up and over her head, tossing it on the floor somewhere. You stared at her chest, her perfect round breasts and perky nipples now exposed to you, sure it's not like you hadn't seen her topless, but having her like this, small puffs of hair leaving her parted lips and her blonde hair a mess, you had never seen something so gorgeous.

You shifted your body slightly lower so your face was in front of her chest, you then planted a kiss on the side of her left breast, Alessia's hand found the back of your head, nudging you slightly forward. You then finally wrapped your lips around her nipple, sucking and licking softly, alessia's back arched, pushing her chest further into your face.

“Oh god” alessia moaned out softly, the hand that wasn't at the back of your head grabbed the pillow behind her.

You disconnected your lips with a pop, you then looked at alessia who was already looking at you, you leaned up and claimed her lips, she tasted like coconut chapstick, like she always did,  alessia then bit down at your lip softly and you let out a small moan, she used that to slide in her tongue, pushing it against yours for dominance over the kiss.

“Lessi, let's move to the bed” you said in between kisses, alessia nodded, you then grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up, alessia immediately connected your lips again, you smiled against her lips at her eagerness. You easily found your way to your bedroom without looking, you then placed Alessia on the bed and she shuffled backwards, her blue eyes now dark, you followed her and placed yourself on top of her, your legs tangled together.

“I want to see you” alessia whispered, you nodded and took your own top off along with your sports bra, alessia then started scanning your chest.

“You're so beautiful,” she said, lifting a hand up to softly squeeze your right breast, you let out a breathy moan at her warm touch.You then kiss down her body, first her neck, her chest down to her stomach until you get to the waistband of her joggers, you look up at her, softly tugging on it.

“Take it off” she said nodding, you wasted no time, you grab the sides of her bottoms and pull them down her long legs, leaving her in her pretty blue lacey underwear that matched her eyes, you immediately notice the dark damp patch and smirk 

“All this for me?” you say, she whimpers in embarrassment but nods.

You then place a small kiss on where her clit is, Alessia's hands once again grab the back of your head.

“Baby, are you sure you want this?” you said looking up at her.

“Yes, fuck yes, i just need you y/n” she moaned, and with that, you tugged her underwear down, exposing her perfect pussy, neatly shaved, you moaned at the sight of her, you could now see how wet she really was.

“Your pussy is so fucking beautiful” you groaned, slightly opening her legs, her wetness glistening, slowly dripping down the curve of her ass, “can i taste you?” you asked her, looking into her eyes from between her thighs.

“Please” alessia whimpers impatiently, you then glide your tongue over her folds, your eyes connected with hers, taking a slow long lick, savouring her taste.

“You taste so fucking good” you groaned against her, the vibrations causing alessia to moan, you start moving your tongue faster against her, her moans get louder as you increase the speed, your tongue tries dipping inside of her, slightly pushing.

“Fuck baby just like that” alessia moans out, pushing your head further into her.

“y/n, i need more-– fuckkk” you cut her words short as you rub her clit and move your tongue against her entrance.

Alessia lets out a while as you stop your movements, you climb up the bed to meet her beautiful face.

“Wanna taste yourself pretty girl?” you whisper, your face glistening with Alessia's juices and your own saliva, she nodded and you connected your lips, she moaned at the taste of herself.

“I need your fingers” Alessia whispered, her fingers playing with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, you smirk at her boldness and slowly slide your hand between your bodies, you slide two fingers between her folds, moving them up and down, Alessia's head fell back onto the pillow as she felt your long fingers tease her hole.

“Baby, inside, please” alessia whimpered, you then finally slowly pushed in your middle and ring finger, Alessia's nails scratching your back as they slid in with ease, when fully in, you keep them still and look at alessia.

“Are you doing ok love?” you ask, your hand that's not inside her comes up and touches her cheek softly.

“Yeah, just give me a minute” she says, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled by your fingers for the first time.after a minute she gave you a small nod and you began slowly thrusting your fingers in and out of her, every time your fingers would re enter her she winced, but after a few minutes, her face relaxed, and her mouth parted, letting out pretty noises.

“Fuck y/n, feels so good” alessia whispered, you smiled and bit her earlobe softly.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?, my fingers filling you up?” you teased, adding your thumb onto her clit, rubbing it while still pumping your fingers in and out of her, you then felt her walls start to tighten around your fingers. “Look at you, doing so well for me” you encouraged her.

“Fuck baby, im close” Alessia’s legs wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to her.

“Yeah?, you gonna cum for me?” you replied, pressing harder on her clit, your mouth latched onto her neck.

“Fuck, Faster baby, im so close” alessia whined, you do as she says and move your fingers at a quicker pace, curling them so they would hit her most sensitive spots.

“Right there,right there, don't stop baby '' Alessia shouts, your neighbours won't be too happy with all the noise she's making, but you love it, the way she screams and whimpers for you has you soaked through your joggers. You then feel Alessia’s walls clench around you, she then bites onto your shoulder to contain her moans as she breaks apart on your fingers, you watch her as she flops her head back onto the pillow, her chest heaving and you help her ride out the orgasm.

“Mm baby im sensitive” Alessia whined, you slowly pull out of her and she whimpers at the loss of being filled up. you move yourself from on top of her onto your beck next to her.

“You did so well love, you were amazing” you say, kissing her all over her face, her cheeks flush and she hides her face in the crook of your neck.

Alessia then notices the wet patch on your joggers from the corner of her eye, you then feel her head move slightly forward.

“Baby?, what's all this?”, she teases looking between your legs.

“Not my fault you're so sexy” you groaned and looked away embarrassed

You then feel Alessia move from her spot beside you, she moves her body on top of yours and pins you down on your bed, she moves her knee between your legs and applies pressure.

“I think i should return the favour pretty girl”

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hope u enjoyed this lil cutie petuti fic xxxxx

rember yall, asks are open so pls feel free to make some requests :)

[kenzlie]

GUESS WHO…

summary: you try to guess who is who during a threesum with your best friends..

WARNING: NOT INCEST, dom!chris, soft!dom!matt, blindfolded, degrade kink, fingering, oral (fem receiving), if there's anything i left out Imk !!

a/n: bro i had to rewrite this entire thing.

You were driving to the Sturniolos house for a sleepover, it was around 10:00PM ish so the roads weren't busy and the street lights were on, they lived right down the road so it wasn't a very long drive

When you arrived at theyre house you walked up to the doorstep knocking since you lost the spare key, Chris opened the door greeting you with a hug, matt was on the couch behind him with a smile on his face, you walked in and sat next to matt "hey where's nick?" You ask "oh he's at Madison's, he said he's helping her cause Presley's sick" Chris stated "poor Presley" you say

Switching to you're pov

I've been her for about 30 minutes now and started getting bored "im bored let's do something" Matt says basically reading my mind "I'm down" chris says “same” i reply “ok ill give matt a person” i add thinking for a second before speaking “ok ok ask some questions now” i tell matt as chris scoots closer to me while we both wait for his response “am i a female?” matt asks “nope” i reply “okay so im a male, hmm.. motherfucker i swear if im deadpool.” matt states “correct!” i laugh “i fucking knew it, your obsession is insane” he says before chris laughs at his comment “okay whatever my turn!” i laugh “alright guess” chris smirks “hm am i lola bunny?” “no your a person” “am i a female?”

they play for a while before eventually stopping

“now what?” matt asks “i don’t know but y/n, who do you think could make you cum faster?” chris blurts, the question completely caught me off guard it was so random but i think for a second before i answer “i don’t know? why do you ask?” i say with confusion written all over my face “well you know, i already know i could make you cum faster, i just wanted to see if you knew that too” he states “bullshit!” matt argues “bullshit? kid you know i could too!” chris argues back, this whole conversation caught me off guard but the way they looked when they were mad made me feel some type of way.. a way ive never felt “how about we find out?” i interrupt, they both look at me, just as shocked as i am “lets play my version of guess who.” chris says

all of a sudden im blindfolded on the couch feeling so needy and desperate “alright ma, just guess who is who f’me” i hear chris say, i nod, cold hands pull my pants & underwear off my legs slowly, leaving my bottom half all exposed “so wet f’us?” a voice asks before i answer i feel hands rubbing the inside of my thighs, no rings..its chris, he teases me before placing delicate kisses on my heat “please..” i whine before i feel him start to suck on my clit, his tongue sliding up and down in my slick folds, soft whimpers escaping my lips while i tug on his soft hair, clearly boosting his ego because he sped up a lot, his tongue sliding in and out of me, i start to feel the knot unravel in my stomach “gonna cum..” i warn, he speeds up more before i release all over his tongue

matts turn

he starts by sliding two fingers in and out of me at a slow pace “mmhp!” he thrusts his fingers faster, in and out, i suddenly feel him start to lick and suck my clit, don’t get me wrong, chris did amazing but the way matt works his fingers and mouth? i think we know who’s winning.. “gonna f-fucking cum!” i whine, he speeds up more, i let out some whines and moans before letting out a leg shaking orgasm

hey, so i give up! its 3:05AM.. i have to get up to do my online school at 8:00.. let me take my ass to bed..😭

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[reidmania]

DRONGO | spencer reid

summary; three times Spencer was confused by australian slang.

warnings; some very bogan language, australian slang, friends to lovers, short, fem reader, australian reader

an; this was self indulgent. ive never used the word drongo in my life but my brother does and it makes me GIGGGLEEEE so i think thats cute. pls enjoy, not edited at all.

The first time was when you first started at the BAU. You and Spencer had been sent to check out the crime scene of a murder. You were still adjusting and finding your place in the team, while also adjusting to America in itself.

It’s not like Australia was free of crime — It definitely wasn’t, not in the slightest, but it still shocked you how many murders were committed by guns. Since in Australia there were much stricter gun laws, it wasn’t something you saw often.

The cold air brushed over your skin, making goosebumps lie in their wake. Your hands ran over your arms trying to sooth the cold skin of your biceps and forearms as you walked around the house, which was actually a crime scene at the moment.

That was always slightly unsettling to you, the fact that the crime scene was once someone’s house, someone’s home, the place they went to everyday after work, the place they craved after a bad day and now it would never be the same.

“I think we’re all done here” Spencer said, making you jump as you spun on your heels in the bedroom you had been looking through. He stood there hands crossed over his chest.

You sighed out, nodding. “It’s bloody freezing this arvo.” You muttered as you walked past him out of the room, down the hallway. You missed the way his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his lips parted slightly.

“What?” He huffed out under his breath as he walked to follow you down the hallway.

You turned your head to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you assumed he just didn’t hear you. “Its freezing” You repeated, head tilting to the side.

He eventually reached your side, where the two of you continued walking out of the house side by side. Out of everyone on the team, Spencer was who you found yourself most comfortable with so far, you enjoyed listening to his long list of random facts and you admired how smart he was.

While he admired your accent, your stories about growing up on the other side of the world and the way you spoke, even if he didn’t always understand it. “No I heard that.. After that, What did you say?”

The two of you walked out of the house, discarding of the gloves you had to wear while looking around. Your lip quirked up, “This arvo?” You questioned.

He nodded, “What is that? What does that mean?”

You let out a laugh, furrowing your eyebrows as you peeled the gloves away from your hands, throwing them into the bin. There were still other cops and new’s reporters around the house making the outside slightly chaotic.

“Afternoon, I meant this afternoon.” You established softly, amused by how curious he seemed by the words you said, how they were so confusing to him, almost like another langue while to you it was just the normal.

“Arvo means afternoon?” He asked. You snorted at the way ‘arvo’ sounded falling from his lips, the mix of his accent and the confusion in his tone making it sound so abnormal, unfitting. It made you laugh.

You nodded as the two of you made your way through the crowd of people. He seemed lost in thought until reached the car. He paused in front of it, looking at you with his eyebrows still pinched together in slight confusion.

“Why?” He asked finally.

You laughed, shrugging. It wasn’t like there was any reason, not really. You grew up hearing it, it was just something you said. You never really paid it any mind until now when Spencer was quizzing you about it.

You opened the passenger seat door, getting in as Spencer made his way around the other side getting into the drivers seat, but he made no movement to start the car until he understood why the heck you would use a word like that.

You scrunched up your nose, “I don’t know— Its just what I say.. Not everyone says it.. Its more of a bogan thing to be honest.. A lot of the ‘Australian slang’ Is bogan language” You mumbled out.

He furrowed his eyebrows, only seeming to be more confused by what you were saying. It made another laugh pass through your lips at the fact you had made the genius with a 187 iq confused by australian language.

“I’ll explain it later” You huffed out with a soft smile, knowing you had a job to do and if you spent the next half an hour trying to explain bogan to Spencer you would probably get nothing else done.

That seemed to be a good enough for Spencer as he started the car to drive back to the office.

Over the next few years of working with Spencer there were many things you said that caused him to ponder it for a moment, sometimes he was able to figure out what you meant without having to ask, but not always.

This was one of those times.

You were annoyed, coming out of an interview with a suspect who was playing dumb, obviously playing dumb and it was driving you absolutely insane. You were just getting more and more annoyed as the interview went on until eventually you threw your hands up and walked out.

Hotch and Spencer were on the other-side of the one sided window, meaning they could see everything going on in the interview room along with hear everything before of the Speaker, while inside the room, you couldn’t see anything from the other side.

Spencer immediately noticed your frustration rising, so did Hotch. Over the last few years Spencer had grown especially fond of you, he noticed and learnt your body language and what upset you and what made you happy. So it wasn’t a shocker that the minute you were out of the room he was by your side.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking over the obvious distress on your face, the way your cheeks had gone flushed and your lips had been pulled into a tight line, eyebrows pushed down in frustration.

“No. He is acting like a fucking drongo, mate!” You babbled out as you leant against the wall, hands coming up to grip onto the hair from your scalp, anything to try and calm yourself down.

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, not at all understanding what you had just said, Neither did Spencer but he had noticed over the years how when you were frustrated you got a little more back to your old ways in the way you spoke.

You adjusted slightly, understanding people in American didn’t use fun words like Australian’s did, so you settled it down when you could — but times like this when you were a little more frustrated it just kind of slipped out.

“Whats a drongo?” Spencer asked, huffing out in confusion.

Your eyes reached his as your expression softened at the way his features were scrunched up in complete and utter confusion of what you just said. It caused a tense but gentle laugh to pass through your lips.

“Like- An idiot, just like a dickhead.” You muttered out, a smile now replacing the frown on your lips, amused by his curiosity. “He is acting like a fucking dickhead” You rephrased.

Spencer nodded now understanding what you meant but still not entirely sure why Australian’s used such funky words, what the heck was a ‘drongo?’ But he refrained from saying that. He also didn’t mention you calling him mate.

That was the one thing that never changed, you called everyone mate as if it was just normal. You greeted Derek when you saw him by saying ‘Hey mate’ Or it would randomly slip out at the end of your sentences, it was a word he came to adore.

“Right, Okay.” Spencer nodded.

The next time was when you and Spencer had been sent by rossi to pick up more ingredients for the pasta he was making since the elder man underestimated how much he would need, it was also an unspoken thing to make you and Spencer go together.

The team collective decided that you two were made for each other, and would do anything they could in order to push you guys a little bit closer together — as if you guys really needed any help with that in the first place.

You started out with a basket Spencer was holding as the two of you walked down the aisles of the store, picking up the ingredients on the list Rossi had given the two of you. Only the basket was filling up fast and you still had a number of things you needed to grab.

“We might be better off grabbing a trolly” You hummed absentmindedly, as your hands reached for a packet of self raising flour, looking over it to make sure it was the right one.

Spencer immediately snorted out loudly, a fit of laughter leaving his lips as he tried to calm himself down in order to not make a scene in the middle of the shop. Your head turned to him, eyebrows pinched in confusion of what was so funny.

“What?” You asked, confusion lacing your tone as your eyes sparkled with amusement watching the boy laugh, his hands reaching down to place the basket on the floor as he then reached up to cover his face with his hands in order to settle his laughter down.

He shook his head, “What- What did you just say?” He asked, peeling his hands away from his face to look at you. You huffed out, knowing this routine all too well at this point, your eyes rolled as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Trolly.” You mumbled out, shaking your head but there was a smile on your lips anyways. He immediately started laughing again, you groaned but the smile never left. “Stop it Spence” You reached out to shove his shoulder playfully.

He calmed himself down, nodding his head, almost laughing himself to the point of tears. “I’m sorry- Im sorry..- Yeah we can go grab a trolly” He teased slightly, you immediately cringed at the way the word sounded leaving his lips with his accent, shaking your head immediately.

“You can’t say it. You say it wrong. You over pronounce it.” You mumbled out, cheeks tinting red at his teasing. Spencer just raised his eyebrow, clearly amused, entertained by how bothered and flustered you had become.

He chuckled again, dragging his hands down his face with a wide smile on his lips, “Maybe you just under pronounce it” He resorted back, raising his eyebrow slightly.

It was your turn to snort as you shook your head, placing the flour in the basket. “I can’t say it wrong, its my country’s word.” You shot back just as fast. He just laughed, he laughed and laughed.

Your eyes rolled again as you turned your back to him, biting your lip to hide the smile that threatened through at the sweet sound of his laughter. “Fine, lets get a Cart.” You mumbled out, putting on your best American accent which was actually terrible.

He gasped and shook his head quickly, reaching out to grab your arm to turn you back to face him, pulling you in a little bit closer. “Oh no— Thats so much worse.”

You laughed before you realised how genuinely close you were, you could feel his breath on your face, your eyes met his and the laughter seemed to die out as he seemed to realise the close proximity at the same time.

That was the first time Spencer had kissed you.

[sturnsmadl]

mute.

< previous

contains-no use of y/n, cursing, light fluff, unestablished friendship, mentions of tough time at school

pairing- grumpy!chris x mute!reader

please read the authors note at the bottom :)

its chris' second day and to your suprise he's not very liked so far, you managed to escape from him yesterday but today was different. it was like he was tracing your every step because when you turn around? he's there. it was lunch period and normally you go to the old makeout cupboard, where everyone would go make out with their boyfriends, seniors, ex's and even other people's girlfriends. that was until the teachers found out and another random closet started getting used. instead of constantly sitting in a bathroom stool and getting made fun of you starting using the closet to finally eat lunch in peace.

Flashback!!

after you left the classroom you head straight for the cupboard and sit down on the floor against one of the shelving units. you open ur beat up, pink lunchbox you've had for as long as you can remember and look over what you packed for yourself today. lunch ends just before u can finish and you pack up quickly, needing to leave the cupboard before the halls fill up and people realise where you disappear to at lunch.

Flashback ends!!

unfortunately chris had a feeling, and a strong one too. chris could sense something was off about your silence and even if you were hated for it he would figure out what it was, he'd made the effort to follow you around like a spy for the whole day and at lunch he finally saw where you disappeared into yesterday. he has no clue why your hiding in there all the time but he knows he's going to find out either way. he follows you and waits a few minutes before opening the door and going in, closing it behind him. you look up from the floor and see him, your heart immediately stops and you, as usual stay completely silent.

"what the fuck..."

he stares at you then you see his expression slightly soften which suprises you as its completely different from the whole mean, tough demeanor he gives off. he sits down opposite you and sighs to himself as he looks around where youve been sitting at lunch for god knows how long.

"what are you doing? there's empty tables out there.."

you shrug softly obviously not going to speak and tell him your hiding so no one can see you eating alone, he looks at your beat lunchbox, your old backpack and your clothes and he can already tell your not the luckiest of people but he still thinks your insanely beautiful and just simply misunderstood.

weeks later

its been around 2 weeks since chris found your spot and everyday without fail he's came in and sat on the cold floor with you to eat his lunch just so ur not completely alone. he's always rambling about his day or how another teacher has become one of his worst for simply asking him to do his work, of course you dont say anything but you listen to him and you nod to show him your listening. you've weirdly became kind of comfortable around chris which isnt a feeling youve felt in a while and your honestly thinking about speaking to him while he rants on about how shit his old school was and how he's glad he was finally kicked out so he could start again. your so tempted to speak and while he's mid sentence you crack.

he groans " and the gym teacher? actually the biggest dick ive ev-"

"chris." you whisper just loud enough for his head to shoot up in shock.

a/n- ok i know this is also very boring :/ but i swear now that shes talking its gonna be a lottt better and more entertaining!

edit- wait i hate this dm omg. i promise promise promise that next part will be juicyyy

tags! @bellaonthelow @muchloveforhacker @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @watchu-mean-baby-keem @babyalliah-777 @imtheprett @sturniolo-fann @coochiedestroyer1 @scarlettbitches

[malues]

i saw a pb x cb post so i got curious, is it ok to ship them? i tried to find out by myself with searching but all the thing of pb being an adult but young adult/late teenager mentally and cb being a 10 year old but a mid teenager/late teenager mentally gets me a bit confused

im gonna use this post to talk about the characters ages again! (no shade to this person in particular, ive just been getting a lot of questions abt it recently.)

when discussing ages, a lot of fans refer to this post i made a while back:

i'd have no problems with this but a lot of people who use this image seem to disregard/forget the bottom paragraph? its mainly my fault for not being good enough while explaining, which i apologize for. but i want to use this to better explain what i meant here:

charger block and crown are NOT actual 10 year old children; when i say that they are 10 and 9, i'm saying that they have EXISTED for 10 and 9 years. even when they were 0 years old, their mannerisms and such were the same as they are today, and may even remain the same when they reach the age 500+.

for example, a character that was created yesterday is only a day old but they may still have the resemblance and maturity of an adult. this is how it worked for michael and sean: since their creations, they have always resembled adults. the characters in LOTS do not age the same as actual people do.

with this in mind, ever since their creations, cb and crown have always resembled teenagers! so while not real children, they're still a bit on the younger side.

so, use this for a better reference:

charger blocks maturity resembles that of a 16-17 year old.

crowns maturity resembles that of a 18-20 year old.

michael, sean, and pipe bomb are fully adults!

this does not mean that a characters mental age WILL stay the same forever, however! it's possible that we will see maturity in cb and crown as the show goes on; don't forget, theyre stuck with a job for 500 years!!! but for now, this is who they are.

so what about the actual question above? well, i anticipated seeing a ship of pb and cb rise after 1C. it's not one i exactly look forward to seeing like many others, so i'd prefer people take a different direction when it comes to that relationship.

and please please, if you see someone who enjoys the ship but is possibly unaware of the ages, DONT get upset!!! it's not their fault that they haven't seen a random post clarifying the ages that only 5% of LOTS fans see!!! if you want to, politely inform them. if they don't care, leave them alone and move on!! they wont change their mind as you won't change yours!!

so theres that! i hope this doesn't leave more questions than answers like last time, but dont be afraid to ask for further clarification!

[marleemutt]

TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️