#Given how much content I've consumed

[rollercoasterwords]

the tiktokification of ao3

or: some of you fundamentally misunderstand ao3 and it really, really shows

i was talking about this with a friend a few days ago and since then i've seen multiple posts of various sorts that have just made me think about it more, so. here is me breaking down a disconnect i see particularly with younger members of the marauders fandom (i say marauders specifically just bc that's the only one i'm plugged into):

okay, so i've seen many (usually younger) marauders fans either talking online about how they wish ao3 was more like social media (specifically regarding algorithms) OR talking about ao3/fanfiction/fanfic writers as if they are operating under the same etiquette/guidelines/assumptions they would bring into social media platforms. this ranges from being mildly irritating to genuinely harmful, and i want to talk abt why.

first - you have to understand that social media, in this day and age, exists in a profit economy. and when i say social media here, i'm referring to platforms like tiktok, twitter, instagram, etc. all of these platforms exist in a profit economy where content is a product that can be monetized. this leads to a few important distinctions:

people posting on these social media platforms are generally posting with the intent to get their content seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible

they post with this intent because once their content is consumed by enough people, it becomes a product that they can monetize

therefore, if that content gets popular enough, these people can become influencers, where content creation is an actual job and their audience are, in a sort of vague and obscured way, similar to consumers purchasing a product

because of the profit economy surrounding social media, there are certain assumptions + forms of interaction that bleed across almost all social media platforms. the ones relevant to this little essay include:

operating under the assumption that anyone posting anything on the internet wants to go viral, ie. be seen by as many people as possible as quickly as possible in order to grow an "audience"

these influencers are creating content for us, their audience, so they should want to please us. they should also be trying to appeal to the broadest possible audience. therefore, if we dislike their content, we have a right to make that very, very clear.

in that same vein, we have a general right to critique content creators, as they are making a profit and we are the consumers purchasing their product--much like you might feel entitled to a certain standard of service in a restaurant where you are paying for the food.

when you carry these assumptions over to a platform like ao3, it creates problems. why? in a nutshell: because ao3 exists outside the profit economy

ao3 is a non-profit. it does not have an algorithm because it is not trying to sell you anything. this means that the writers posting their work on ao3 are not making a profit. we are not influencers. we are not creating monetized content to sell to a consumer-audience. where consuming content on other social media platforms might be comparable to eating at a restaurant, reading fanfiction on ao3 is more like coming over to someone's house and eating cookies that they made for free. you are in their house. the cookies are free, given as a gift. so what happens when those assumptions outlined above start to bleed over from other social media?

assuming that anyone posting fanfiction online wants their work to go viral -- i've seen this with popular fic writers getting questions like, "are you worried x isn't going to be as popular as y?" those questions are usually not ill-intended, but they demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding about why writers post work on ao3. it's not to go viral. it's not to build any sort of online following. most of us who post on ao3 have jobs or schoolwork or other commitments, and writing fanfiction is something done for fun, out of a love for writing. those sharing their work online might be seeking community, but that is fundamentally different from seeking an audience, and in no way involves internet virality. if someone is posting fanfic on ao3 with the hope that it'll "go viral," then they likely either won't continue writing fanfic for long or will reach a point where they have to re-evalute their motivations, because seeking joy and validation by turning your art into a product for consumption just isn't very sustainable.

influencers are creating content for us, so we have a right to let them know if we don't like it -- nope!! fic writers are not influencers. yes, even the popular ones. no matter how much other people might blow their work up on social media, fic writers are still outside the profit economy. they are not creating content for an audience. they are not creating content for you. they are writing because they love it, and they are generously sharing it. if you don't like it, don't interact with it. you are never entitled to loudly and publicly proclaim how much you dislike a fic. i talk about this more here

we have a general right to critique fic writers, the same way we do with content creators/influencers -- again, no. you should not be treating fic writers the way you would treat an influencer on another social media platform, no matter how popular they may be. this is not to say fic writers are beyond all reproach; rather, it is a call-in to check your entitlement. fic writers are not little jesters entertaining in your court. they are not subject to your whims. they do not have to do things for you. they do not have to write things you like. in that post i linked on point 2, i talk about what etiquette might look like if you're really concerned that a fic writer is doing something harmful, but that is not what i'm talking about here. i am talking about the proliferation of negativity i have seen, especially on twitter and tiktok, where people essentially just talk shit about fics or fic writers as though they are entitled to have those fic writers working to please them. this is gross, and it needs to stop. you wouldn't go over to someone's house, eat the cookies they baked to share, and then spit those cookies back in their face and start shouting about what a shitty baker they are. or maybe you would--in which case, congratulations! you are Not A Good Person.

anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of this can be boiled down to: Because ao3 exists outside the profit economy, fic writers are not influencers, and you should never be treating them as though they are. i think i see this disconnect largely with younger people just because they've maybe only ever really understood social media within this sort of influencer-consumer-culture economy, and genuinely don't understand how to interact differently with the internet. so, consider this post a call-in to reevaluate the way you interact with fic writers and the etiquette you use when it comes to engaging with fanfic on ao3! i promise that ao3 being different from social media is a very, very good thing, and also a very, very rare thing, so let's treasure it and focus on fostering community rather than trying to morph it to fit the mould of influencer-audience dynamics that we see almost everywhere else <3

#tldr: fic writers aren't influencers #stop acting like they are #it only creates problems!!!! #anyway if you have engaged in some of these behaviors that doesn't make u a bad person #it just means u should maybe shift ur perspective moving forward #capitalism is a lifeless desert that grows every day and ao3 is a little oasis #let's all enjoy it while we can #instead of trying to place it within a consumer economy #ranting and raving #txt

[lucrativesoul]

Welcome Home

summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.

pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon

a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!

No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.

Until… It was realistic.

For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…

You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.

You could not have been more wrong.

“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”

Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”

You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!

Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.

“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”

You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”

You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.

There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.

The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!

Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.

He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.

From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.

As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.

Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.

Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 

A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.

“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”

You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”

“Agreed.”

As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.

“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”

Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.

“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”

You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 

She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?

“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”

Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.

“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”

She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.

Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”

“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 

The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.

“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 

“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.

The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.

You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.

“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.

A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”

Leon. 

You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.

“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 

“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.

The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 

Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 

You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.

Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 

But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.

–

A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.

“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”

You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”

She sighed. “You can say that again.”

You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”

You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.

The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.

“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”

“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 

“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.

“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.

His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–

“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 

You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.

“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.

“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 

He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”

You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 

“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.

He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”

You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.

“Are you any good?”

He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”

You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”

Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”

Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”

You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”

And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.

You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”

“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.

Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 

Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.

–

“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.

“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”

“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 

You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”

She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”

“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.

Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.

The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.

You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.

God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.

Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 

You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?

Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.

On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.

The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.

Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.

This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.

It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?

Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.

You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.

People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.

After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.

You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.

As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 

“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.

“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”

You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.

“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.

You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.

“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”

“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 

He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.

You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 

“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 

Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.

“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”

He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.

“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”

You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?

He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”

You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.

You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.

You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”

Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.

His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.

Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.

He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 

“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”

His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”

Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 

He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.

Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.

You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.

As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”

Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.

“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.

Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 

Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.

You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.

“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.

“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.

After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.

“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.

You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.

“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.

You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.

He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.

You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.

The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.

“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.

His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.

One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 

You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.

On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.

Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 

You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.

He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.

He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.

He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 

He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 

He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.

After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.

“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.

“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.

He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.

The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.

“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.

“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.

“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 

He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 

He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.

“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.

“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.

“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.

“Coming to the house any time soon?”

You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 

He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy x reader smut #female reader

[petermorwood]

Potato Crisps / Chips on Tasting History

So we've just watched Max's latest...

...and I was grinning a bit because I posted about Dr Kitchiner's 1817 (non-US, definitely non-Saratoga) crisps / chips recipe a month ago.

That image was from an American edition of his book; I've found a pic from the original - NB that these slices are floured before frying.

For reference, here's a two-penny piece from about 1797; the coin would still be current 20 years later:

...and here's how thick the potatoes should be sliced. That's 4mm, which is 2mm less than "a quarter of an inch" (6.25mm).

The slices will get even thinner as their moisture evaporates during frying, and, given the nature of recipes, potatoes cooked this way are probably even older than 1817 and Kitchiner's is just the first appearance found so far in print.

*****

The first recipe for "Game Chips" (an accompaniment to grouse, pheasant etc.) appeared, per the Wikipedia link, in a 1903 book published by famous chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935):

"Chip potatoes - these are potatoes cut into thin slices; this is usually done with a special plane. (A mandoline.) They are put in cold water for 10 minutes; then drained, dried in a cloth and fried until very crunchy. They are served hot or cold and generally accompany game roasted in the English style."

However, per Escoffier's Wikipedia page, much of his work was based on that of Anton Carême (1783-1833), whose dates are squarely coincident with Dr Kitchiner's Potato Slices.

Given the amount of cookery to-and-fro between England and France after the Napoleonic wars were over, it's impossible to say who first came up with the idea of potato crisps.

The French loved dainties - "un petit quelquechose", a little something - which the English pronounced and dismissed as "kickshaws", something over-fussy yet insubstantial. Yet those same English also loved roasting things with their appropriate accompaniments.

(I'm writing this just over a week after Christmas, and have been well reminded that the phrase "Roast (turkey / goose / beef) With All The Trimmings" is still in common 21st-century use.)

If those roasted things were game birds, only those above a certain level in society would be eating them, so it's not unreasonable to assume a rich-person game bird would attract fussy, time-consuming rich-person trimmings like, okay, Game Chips.

One thing's for sure, Potato Crisps - and Game Chips too, so hard luck, Escoffier - are almost certainly older than even Tasting History could prove.

*****

BTW, they also existed at a time when "English Food Was Bland" is more fake history.

Sauces put out on the table in fancy bottles had fancy labels ("bottle tickets") showing what was in them, and the contents were often far from bland.

Quin sauce was anchovy-based, hot and pungent.

Harvey's was a spicy sauce similar to Worcestershire, ketchup was probably mushroom and also spicy; the other two need no elaboration.

AFAIK the two crescent-shaped ones in the next pics are deliberate imitations of an officer's rank-gorget.

Finally a generic Not-Bland label that would go on any number of modern bottles (antique silver, yours for £250)...

*****

And after all of the above, I could do Very Bad Things to a packet of Tayto Cheese 'n' Onion. A packet?

Why stop at a packet when A Pack takes less time to say?

After all, It Is Written that:

"Reading One Book Is Like Eating One Potato Crisp Chip."

And also that Nothing Exceeds Like Excess...

#food and drink #potato crisps #game chips #Tasting History with Max Miller #Diane Duane #Reading one book is like... #...like eating one potato chip #wise words maxims and apothegms #Youtube

[jinnie-ret]

THE TUTOR

poly!stray kids x reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: toxic relationship (not with SKZ)

word count: 5.4k

summary: becoming lee felix's tutor was quite possibly the best decision she could have made. toxic exes, university assignments and a whole lot of confusing feelings, how does skz fit into this equation?

collab w/ @astraykidforsure

I've absolutely loved working on this with my gorgeous talented pookie! I think it's my fav fic written ever so to have collabed on this was so fun to share our ideas together and give you this!!!

Here is our other fic here which you can find on her page! It's the cutest fluffiest Christmas fic ever so I hope you enjoy :)))

MAIN MASTERLIST

Handing in the penultimate assignment of the year, Y/N couldn't hide her sigh of relief when she gave her paper to her professor. She had given everything to this piece of work, sleepless nights, even forgetting to eat sometimes too, as she was so caught up in her studies. It happened that just as she was handing in this assignment, she was given her results of the previous one she had done. Feeling as if it had been ages ago since she had completed it, Y/N was pleasantly surprised to see the number on the document her professor handed to her.

"85, that's another 'first', top grades as always, Miss Park," Mr Jung, Y/N's English Literature professor grinned at her proudly as he handed her paper back to her.

"Thanks Mr Jung!" Y/N grinned happily, always one to be energetic and bubbly no matter what kind of hurdle was in her way.

"Now, I look forward to reading this one here... but I have one request," Mr Jung pushed up his glasses as he gently placed down her recently finished assignment onto his stack of others he would be due to read.

"Oh, what is it?" Y/N pursed her lips curiously, hands behind her back as she wondered what Mr Jung was about to tell her. She was very much so looking forwards to a small break so hopefully whatever he said next wouldn't be something that would consume a lot of her time.

"One of the students in our class, Lee Felix, I assume you know him? He's falling behind, and I thought you'd be the perfect student to help him. So what do you say?" Mr Jung proposed the idea to Y/N of becoming Felix's tutor.

This wasn't exactly what she expected. Lee Felix? Everyone on campus knew him and the friend group he was a part of. You couldn't not know him. He stuck out especially to Y/N, not just because of the fact he was on the same course as her, but because of his sweet personality and how nicely he treated everyone around him. She aimed to be like him.

What Y/N didn't already realise, was that she was a similar kind of person, and people recognised her kindness. Although she mainly kept to herself, always had her nose in a book or her head in the clouds, she greeted everyone kindly. And for that, she was already loved so much.

It couldn't hurt to help out, could it? Sure, she wanted a break, but this should be things she already knew. And it wasn't like she would be forced to spend her time with anyone horrible. The only thing remotely intimidating was the fact that she'd be presumably meeting one of the most popular friend groups on campus.

But, perhaps it would be nice to properly talk to them, instead of just greeting them like her friendly self normally did.

"- Miss Park?" Mr Jung was still staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, I'll do it," Y/N grinned, adjusting her bag on her shoulders before waving her professor goodbye.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was 4:30pm. Right on the dot.

Y/N had arrived perfectly on time, oddly nervous for her first tutor session with Felix. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken to him properly, apart from the emails back and forth on when to arrange a mutually good time to meet. And that took a while in itself, because Felix didn't seem to check his emails a lot. It would be much easier once she had his phone number to text, and it seemed much less formal too.

Not only that, but it would be nice to see a different name pop up on her screen other than her persistent ex, Johnny, who couldn't seem to forget about her.

Knock, knock, knock.

Y/N stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other before the door opened.

"Y/N right? Come in, come in, sorry about the mess!" Felix cheerfully greeted her with a pre warning of the state of his dorm, which she quickly realised he shared with all of the other guys.

Was it messy? Yes, but the typical mess you'd expect for a boys' dorm. It was homely though. Domestic.

On a coffee table, there was a computer science textbook lying open beside a laptop covered in cat stickers, neatly kept to one side, almost to avoid the art materials spread precariously across the furniture. There was barely any room for the puppy patterned mug of coffee to sit, most likely brewed from the expensive coffee machine in the kitchen, Y/N had noticed. The TV screen was on, showing the title screen of a game she didn't quite recognise, she wasn't much of a gamer herself. As she glanced to where she could take off her coat in the lobby area, there was a gym bag, a backpack with headphones peeking out of the top, and some keys scattered to the side, charmingly accompanied by a koala keyring and a kangaroo one too.

"Don't worry about the mess, it's homely," Y/N shrugged, taking her coat off and feeling a bit surprised when Felix wordlessly took it out of her hands and hung it up for her.

"That's the excuse Hannie always uses..." Felix chuckles, before his eyes widen, "oh yeah! My boyf- roommates are all home right now around here somewhere, so don't be shocked if you see one of them walking about. We can study in my room if you want? It'll be much quieter," he stumbled on his words.

"Sure, whatever is more comfier for you, Felix," Y/N grinned as he nodded once more and they set up things in his room at his desk. Felix brought out his laptop to takes notes as Y/N brought out her notebook. Clearly they had different ways of studying, but that didn't seem to deter her, things like that didn't mean much when she was here to help.

"So, how much have you gotten done so far?" Y/N popped the lid off of her pen, both of them giggling as it flew onto the floor somewhere.

"Don't hate me if I say none of it?" Felix replied sheepishly as he crouched down to retrieve the piece of stationary and sat back down in his seat.

"I can't hate you, silly! I've only just met you!" Y/N shook her head with a gummy smile, not knowing she was melting Felix's heart as she did so.

And so, they began, Y/N guiding Felix to the best references and praising him for his ideas that he thought of for the assignment. She made sure she steered him in the right direction and he seemed to be on the right path already.

Knock, knock.

The door opened to reveal two handsome men, both with sharp features, one with longer black hair and the other with a bold purple style.

"Here, have some brain power," the guy with purple hair put the plate down in front of the two, Y/N already smiling at the colourful fruit presented in front of them.

"That's Minho by the way, and that's Hyunjin," Felix pointed out to Y/N, before munching on a piece of honeydew melon. She waved at them with an enthusiastic 'hi' as they made themselves at home in Felix's room.

Hyunjin stretched across the bed as Minho perched against the desk on Felix's side.

"I think I'll be eating most of this then if it's for brain power," Felix grabbed a few more pieces of fruit, shoving it into his mouth contentedly at the sweet taste.

"You better save some of it for Y/N! She's the guest! Plus, I had to spend time with Minho in the kitchen, with a knife... My life was on the line for these snacks!" Hyunjin professed dramatically, sat up on the bed now as he moved his hands around whilst explaining.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle along with Felix, Hyunjin noticing this as he smiled at how comfortable she was around them already.

"Just wait, you'll have to stay for dinner one time, and then you'll see!" Hyunjin widened his eyes comically, as Y/N nodded along in agreement.

"You like to cook, Y/N?" Minho asked curiously, showing interest in the girl who came round to tutor his boyfriend.

"I'm not the best at cooking actually... Most times I just eat ramen for dinner or order fried chicken," she pinched her lip habitually and covered her awkward grin, yet everyone else could still see it from the way her eyes crinkled.

"Ah! That's not good, I'll have to feed you, make sure you get something nutritional in that belly," Minho patted her head as he tutted.

"That's our Minho, he always cooks for us, he's such a doting boyfriend-" Felix nuzzled his head against Minho's stomach before freezing in place. He may have hidden their secret before but this time he couldn't help himself.

"Y/N, look, we-" Hyunjin stumbled over his words as he stood up now, next to Felix and Minho as he took in the girl's shocked expression.

"It's ok, it's ok, I won't judge," she quickly held her hands up to try and calm them.

"It's easier said then done, not exactly conventional having 8 guys date each other," Minho sighed, stroking Felix's hair soothingly to show he didn't blame the younger.

"Please don't tell anyone," Felix couldn't even look her in the eyes. He felt like he had already blown his chances of getting good grades. Like, what a bombshell to drop on your tutor. Oh yeah, by the way, I have 8, boyfriends but keep it a secret, please.

"Guys, please, it's ok, really. I wouldn't dare tell anyone. That's not my information to share, I'd rather you act natural around me then hide that side to yourselves, ok?" Y/N spoke carefully, taking in all of their expressions to make sure her message was heard.

"You've got a good tutor here, Lixie," Hyunjin sighs in relief, a small smile painting his face.

"I do," he nodded in agreement, relieved that she was someone he could not only learn from, but trust too.

Y/N would come to see a lot of sweet interactions between the boys, and also get to know them a lot more too. This was only the start.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Over the next few weeks, Y/N had really gotten to know the other guys quite well, and when she had reassured the rest of them in person that their secret was safe with her, the arms she was welcomed with were open even more.

"Hi love, come in!" Chan softly smiled at her as she entered the dorms, her books already clutched in her arms.

"You're in a cheery mood today, Channie, get some sleep for once?" Y/N laughed and teased the older boy, looking away mischievously when he pulled a face that said 'why did I let her and Seungmin interact?'.

"Go on go, go find Felix and help him study," he fake sighed and shooed her away, pushing her in the direction of Felix's room with a laugh, but wincing when her phone hit the floor. "Oh sorry!" he was quick to pick it up, the phone lighting up with yet another text message, making him frown.

"Oh it's fine, don't worry," Y/N went to grab it back quickly and hesitantly, Chan let her.

"Who's Johnny?" he chewed his lip as he asked the question.

"He's no one," Y/N shrugged him off, making sure she had all her books ready and was about to enter Felix's room, hand reaching for the handle when Chan realised he couldn't let this go so soon.

The rest of the boys and himself had grown to like Y/N a lot in such a short space of time. Her caring nature had stolen a piece of each of their hearts and they found themselves exuding that same care towards her.

"Love, it doesn't look like nothing, that was a whole lot of texts," Chan warily rested a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N sighed before moving over to their sofa, Chan following right behind her.

"It's really nothing... I'm used to it," she shrugged, biting on the inside of her cheek.

"So if it's nothing why are we taking a seat to talk about this, hmm?" Chan calmly spoke to her, lightly pinching her cheek to get her to stop.

"I don't know if I'm overreacting or not... sometimes I think I am but other times, here just look," Y/N shakily hands over her phone to Chan, and he grasped her hand in his as he read the more recent ones that appeared in her notifications.

"These messages are horrible, Y/N, why don't you just block him?" Chan was horrified at the threatening messages he read, nostrils flaring more and more at each word that his eyes scanned.

"He always finds a way to message me from a new number... See?" Y/N reluctantly released her hand from Chan's as she unlocked her phone and showed her messages, previous conversations all with the same tone to them, but from different numbers. "You can always tell it's him messaging because he always leaves a space between the full stop and the word. And then he doesn't use slang in his texts apart from 'ur'," she further explains to Chan, who was in disbelief at how she spoke so causally of what was happening to her. Yet, he could tell there were some feelings she was internalising too.

"You're too smart for your own good, love," Chan rubbed her shoulder, proud of her analysing skills that she recognised it was her ex. "You really don't deserve this," he murmured, leaning his head on top of hers.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was nice, to feel that love and appreciation again, without having any labels attached. But then it had Y/N thinking, what really was this thing between her and the boys?

"Aren't you going to take a break too, Y/Nnie? Felix has been playing this game for at least twenty minutes now!" Changbin leant his head back on the sofa arm as he watched the girl diligently flicking through her notes whilst Felix went to take a 'short' break and play on his PC.

"Ah, it's fine haha, I want to make sure I've got some stuff ready for when Felix is done," Y/N brushed off Changbin's concerns and pushed back a stray piece of hair as she read through the notes she had made during the afternoon.

"Nope, no, not having it, I'll get Seungmin to make you some of his fresh coffee and then you will sit here, right next to me," Changbin sat up, patting a space on the sofa next to him, "and drink it."

"But Changbin-" Y/N sighed, covering her face and leaning back into the chair at the table, already hearing the whirring of the coffee machine in the kitchen, meaning Seungmin was around and overheard the small harmless bickering.

"Nope, now come, sit here," Changbin didn't budge, from not just his seat but his efforts to getting Y/N to take a break too.

She groaned as she complied and sat next to the muscly guy, who hummed in content when he felt the dip of the sofa next to him.

Seungmin entered the lounge, bringing over a mug of coffee for Y/N, dainty sunflowers painted all over it.

"Wow this mug is so cute!" Y/N grinned as she held it up slightly to admire it.

"Good. It's your mug," Seungmin nodded as he sat at the end of the sofa, a mug of coffee made for himself as he placed it done on the table.

"My mug? I don't even live here, Seungmin," Y/N tried to laugh it off, but she couldn't help but feel butterflies at the warmth she received from these guys. The way that they always made sure she felt at home in their home.

"You might as well, haha, with the amount of times Felix invites you over to study when half the time he's all distracted," Seungmin pushed up his glasses, turning to look at Y/N.

"Well I thought that's why he wanted me over more... Because we didn't get enough done in the first place?" Y/N pursed her lips in thought, before blowing on the coffee to try and cool it down even though it had been freshly brewed and was still very hot.

"Interesting take... I'm with Seungmin on this one though," Changbin raised an eyebrow at Y/N's reasoning before cooing at Seungmin, reaching over to pat him on the knee.

"Ew, hyung," Seungmin wrinkled his nose, bringing his legs further up on the sofa and curling up.

"Hey! Don't reject me in front of Y/N... i-it's embarrassing! I'm a desirable man!" Changbin complained loudly, throwing his arms up in the air before folding them and sinking into the sofa.

Y/N couldn't help but agree, nodding to herself as she bit her lip. Changbin was a handsome man. All of them were. They were all lucky to have each other, not only for their looks but their personalities too.

"I saw that look, you're not so sly, sunflower," Seungmin whispered in Y/N's ear as he patted her head before wrapping his arms around Changbin to quieten the pouting man, cheekily biting his neck in the process.

"Yah! Kim Seungmin!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A rough day was rare for Y/N, for she always strived to push any stress away and focus on what she was meant to be doing. But with another influx of texts from Johnny, he wasn't making her day so easy. Even more so because he was waiting outside of her class.

"Never answer my texts huh? I just want you to talk to me, that's all I want!" Johnny grabbed Y/N's wrist and took her to the side of the empty hallway.

Not only was the poor girl shocked at him grabbing her harshly, she also wondered how he knew where her class was, they didn't even take the same course, let alone similar ones for him to be in the same building as her.

"You don't deserve that, Johnny, not after what you put me through," Y/N pulled her arm away from him and redirected herself outside, hoping that was all this confrontation would be.

Oh how wrong she was. Walking outside where there was more students around should have made Y/N feel safer, even with Johnny on her tail, but with the gossipy nature of the university, it made things worse.

"Don't you want me?" Johnny growled, his voice too loud for her liking as people around her pulled out their phones and started filming as he grabbed her wrist tightly once again.

"No! I don't! I hate you!" Y/N said through gritted teeth, trying to regain ownership of her own limb.

This seemed to frustrate Johnny even further, his intentions becoming more and more clear.

He spat at her, right in her face.

"People like you don't deserve to even be with me, I'm doing you a favour!" he tried to pull her along with him.

Y/N felt helpless. Why wasn't anyone helping her? They were too busy hiding behind their phone screens.

"No, I'm doing myself a favour and getting away from you!" Y/N took matters into her own hands and despite the fast beat of her heart she stomped on his foot and stormed away quickly, wiping her tears as she did so.

It wasn't long until the video started floating around other students. Chan and Changbin, who were in one of the studios courtesy of the uni's musical facilities, received a text from Minho.

Minho: pls tell me this isn't y/n...

[vid.attchmnt]

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Is that my favourite person in the world?!" Han hugged Y/N as soon as she walked through the door.

Han had admired Y/N as soon as he met her, always wanting to cuddle her because he thought she was so sweet and 'too pure for this world'.

And oh, did Y/N need that hug, especially after the day she had.

"Hey, she was mine first!" Felix wrapped her up into a big hug of his own as he pushed Han away, not too hard though.

Mine?

That would be a thought for another time...

Pushing the boys away and letting them bicker playfully between themselves, she sat down next to Jeongin on the sofa, who was absorbed in whatever video game it was that he was playing. She often had comfortable silences when she was in the space of the younger. But she likes that. They could appreciate each other's presences without needing to say much. Without needing to say anything.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her head as she read through her notes once more, wondering what part of the words that were jumbling right in front of her very eyes, would be more useful to Felix today.

"You should play one day," Jeongin spoke up quietly, as to not disturb her focus and for him to maintain his own as he fiddled with the joysticks.

"Ah I don't know a lot about gaming, plus staring at the screen would give me an even worse headache right now I think," Y/N sank deeper into the sofa in defeat, rubbing her eyes as she tossed her notes aside.

"Let me get you some painkillers," Jeongin immediately paused his game, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

"No it's fine-" Y/N tried to stop him.

"You take them with water?" Jeongin ignored her attempts as he called out from the other room.

"Yes," Y/N replied quietly but he still seemed to have heard her.

Jeongin returned into the lounge with two painkillers and a some water in a glass prettily painted with sunflowers on it. It wouldn't be hard to guess who bought her that.

"Cute glass," Y/N fondly smiled, as she sipped the water slowly and swallowed the painkillers.

Jeongin loved how she was still able to smile despite the pain she was in. He admired her for that.

"A certain puppy picked that one out, convinced Minho and Jinnie that it was necessary," Jeongin nodded at her, taking his seat but not returning to his game straight away.

"Well I love it, I'll tell him thank you later if I see him," Y/N placed down the glass and instead of relaxing into the sofa once more, she found herself in a pair of arms instead.

"I'm sure you will," Han gently hugged her gently this time, noticing her demeanour was quieter than usual and that she had taken some tablets.

"You sure you want to study today, Y/N?" Felix rubbed her knee soothingly, not wanting to pressure her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, maybe we can take it slow today?" Y/N makes a compromise, not wanting to let down the sunshine on front of her.

"Of course, of course, love, that sounds like a better idea, just tell me if you want to take a break, yeah? Don't want you to be feeling in pain just because you're trying to help me," Felix kisses the top of her head, making her blush.

What was going on with her heart? Maybe she was just still feeling shaken up from earlier on.

"Y/N, why didn't you tell us something happened between you and Johnny?" Han suddenly tensed up, and Y/N could feel it. She didn't dare look at the video Han was playing on his phone.

In that moment, Seungmin and Hyunjin entered the dorm, frowns on their faces.

"Ah Seungmin! There you are, thanks for getting me this glass, you really didn't have to," Y/N tried to change the subject, hoping their frowns would disappear but it didn't work.

"Nope, don't do that sunflower," Seungmin shook his head, taking off his shoes and putting his slippers on.

"Angel, why didn't you say anything, hmm?" Hyunjin walked over in front of the sofa, hands on his hips.

"No wonder you weren't feeling great," Jeongin's eyes widened in realisation after watching the video over Han's shoulder, handing Y/N the glass of water once more to encourage her to take some sips.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Y/N didn't even believe herself as she spoke.

"Y/Nnie, there's a video going around of you and Johnny in the square at uni," Hyunjin crouched down in front of her.

"Wait? I haven't seen that video, I've only seen the one of hyungs cornering him," Seungmin spoke up, sharing a confused look at Hyunjin. He was sure they had been speaking about the same thing earlier, yet with both of the information they had seen from different videos, they must have been able to fill in the gaps.

"W-wait they what?" Y/N stuttered as she looked back and forth between the boys.

In that moment, Seungmin held up a video playing on his phone, showing the three eldest of the group cornering Johnny against a wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt as they shouted at him.

Y/N couldn't believe her eyes.

"It's ok," Felix's deep voice soothed her as he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her closer to his chest.

"Let's just have a relaxing evening yeah? Take your mind off of it," Seungmin instructed, tucking Y/N's notes away into her bag.

"Felix is that ok with-"

"Don't even worry love, it's fine," Felix rubbed her shoulder once more, Han holding her hand as he leant his head on her shoulder.

They all began to relax, watching a Disney film. Y/N cuddled up between the September twins, and Jeongin reluctantly allowing his overly affectionate hyungs, Seungmin and Hyunjin, to coddle and cuddle him.

Around halfway through the film, the front door unlocked and 3 sets of footsteps marched inside.

"Is she here? Is she ok?!"

"I swear she was meant to have a tutor session with Lixie today but they're not in his room..."

"Wait, her shoes are here."

Chan, Minho and Changbin all sighed in relief, almost synchronised, as they saw the object of their concern cuddled up to their other boyfriends.

"Y/Nnie, love, come here a sec," Chan whispered into her ear, gesturing her to come to the side to talk to all 3 of them.

She felt nervous just standing there as their eyes scanned her to make sure she was physically ok.

"Guys, you didn't have to do that..." Y/N shook her head, hands retreating into the sleeves of a jumper Han let her borrow because he insisted a cosy jumper is a cosy heart and it would make her feel better.

He wasn't wrong.

"Oh but we did, it wasn't right what he did to you Y/N, and I don't know what he's done to you in the past but..." Changbin trailed off, fists clenched at the thought of Johnny.

"He'll never hurt you again, ok?" Minho promised, hand caressing her cheek gently.

"And if he does anything again tell one of us right away, we got you," Chan rubbed her shoulder, a pout on his face reflecting Y/N's as her eyes welled up with tears.

"Thanks guys," Y/N sniffled, hugging each of them.

Hyunjin, who was snooping on the conversation with eager ears, called out across to them, "yah! Don't make Angel cry, we just calmed her down!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N was confused. She wasn't as sure anymore, or, at least not as much as before, that is. Sure, she knew about their relationship, of course. Though she wasn't apart of it. They seemed to act so nice and loving towards her. Always helping her out, Felix giving her extra attention and affection when he thought she needed it. The boys always bring her food whenever they got food themselves. They'd ruffle her hair and give her soft smiles. Back hugs and forehead kisses. It's so much more than that. They just treat her so well. She's supposed to keep their secret, but, then again, she's not dating any of them.

Despite everything, does that mean they're messing with her? Are they doing this to mess with her feelings? She sure hoped that wasn't the case. She's been having so much doubt lately with this situation she seemed to have gotten herself stuck in. But, she didn't want to be seen as if she was trying to interrupt or ruin their relationship by confessing. Seriously, one girl and eight guys? She wasn't so sure that it was realistic, whether she wanted it to be or not.

She just wanted this guilt that she constantly felt to go away. She didn't want to stress over this anymore or worry. She hated these nerves that she constantly felt, continuously. She wanted this to be over, even if she never ended up dating them.

Knock, knock, knock.

"We've missed you," Jeongin was shocked to see her as he opened the front door, blurting out the first words that came to mind as he welcomed her inside.

It had been 5 days since they saw her. But it was 5 days too long.

Y/N stood at the edge of the lounge not knowing what to say as the boys all turned and gasped as they saw her.

"What's been going on, Y/Nnie?" Han slowly asked.

"Talk to us love..." Felix begged, he just wanted to know why she created some distance between them all.

"Don't call me that when you don't mean... When you don't want..." Y/N ran a stressed hand through her hair, not knowing how to articulate herself because her emotions were all over the place.

"Come sit down ang-, Y/N, it's ok, talk to us," Hyunjin went to call jer ny his usual nickname, but sensing her discomfort, he chose not to this time. And it felt weird.

"I'm so confused right now..." Y/N began, perching on the edge of the armchair where Changbin was sat.

"You asked me to keep your relationship secret and of course I'd never tell anyone but, I feel like, gosh no I can't say it it'll sound so stupid," Y/N scolded herself, Chan patting her back lightly as he stood next to her.

"Nothing you say is stupid, you're very clever, sunflower," Seungmin shook his head, not liking the sight of the girl he was so fond of, looking so distressed.

"What am I to you guys? L-like am I just Felix's tutor to you, or just even a friend or-"

"You're much more to us then those things, and I know you know that by now," Minho leant forward in his seat on the sofa.

"We like you, a lot, Y/N," Felix said with his hand on his chest.

"W-why couldn't you just tell me that? I-i've been going out of my mind," Y/N ducked her head down, covering her face with her hands.

"We didn't want to pressure you after that situation with your ex..." Changbin grasped her hand from next to her.

"Oh, sorry, yeah I get that..." Y/N sighed.

"Come on, where's that smile gone?" Hyunjin cooed, tickling her sides and successfully making her laugh.

"We really like you Y/N, and we were hoping you'd want to be a part of our relationship too," Chan crouched down in front of her.

"You sure?" Y/N was wary. This wasn't a trick right?

"Never been more sure of anything in our lives," he was quick to squash her worries, kissing her on the cheek.

"Then, yes, I'd love to be with you all," Y/N grinned that gorgeous smile that they loved so much.

It was the best decision she could have made agreeing to be Felix's tutor. It brought so many people into her life that she already held dearly to her heart, people she knew she'd come to love even more in her life. The little things they did for her with more care than anyone else had ever paid her attention to. They gave her the love she deserved, the love that she'd never lose.

taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz poly #poly skz #stray kids poly #poly stray kids #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han x reader #lee minho x reader #kim seungmin x reader

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, suggestive nsfw content, Johnny being “nice”, minor kidnapping mention

Requested?: Nah

Overview: The only car breaks down and your father can’t afford to fix it. He doesn’t have many options, but when you suggest a certain someone to take a look at, he can't help but feel uneasy. Little did you know that decision will lead to a whirlwind of trouble.

A/n: Thinking about making it into a series, so let me know what you guys think! Enjoy!

Your father was very upset this morning, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. He was stomping around the house huffing and puffing, mumbling to himself as you fixed up some breakfast. Up the stairs, down the stairs, back into the work shed. It made you furrow your brows, bewildered by his behavior. You set the table and sat down hoping to find out the cause as he made his way into the room. You haven’t really seen him this irritated in a long time, and he moved around restlessly despite him taking a seat for the first time this morning… still quite agitated.

"The car is acting up again," he complained, shoving a forkful of egg and toast into his mouth.

“Again?” You ask, spreading butter on a piece of warm toast. “Daddy I told you it was bound to break. Why don’t you take it to the shop?”

Your father looked up, annoyed, and shook his head. "It's too expensive," he explained after swallowing a bite. "The fence is falling apart and the shed needs repairs. I can't afford to manage all that work on my own, and it would cost an arm just to get in there."

“You could always have Johnny take a look at it.”

Your suggestion made him pause, his gaze incredulous as you shrugged. "Johnny Slaughter?"

“Yes Daddy, Johnny Slaughter.” You replied.

His eyes dropped into something more serious than before, and you could notice the changes in his facial expressions. If he didn't appear to be worried about it, that is. "What's going on between you and that boy Y/n? People in the community are always talking about that family, you know.” This was his technique of lecturing you, making you look at him with utter boredom. "He and his family are equally dangerous! What happens if the rumors are true?” Indeed. Rumors. The ones where members of the Slaughter family kept individuals in a cellar to later consume them? Or the ones that they were ferocious and would try to eat anyone who approached their house? Yeah, those.

“What if they aren't though?” You retorted while arching your brow. “Given how much time I've spent with Johnny, I figure something would have happened by now.”

"You're still spending time with him?!"

Oops. Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that. As your father flailed his arms around, you were slumped in your chair, picking at your food. So, as he lectured you about your decisions, you carried on eating your meal silently. He mentioned the potential damage to your reputation and the possible consequences for your family. Although he had legitimate worries, you also knew that he had a history with them, which probably contributed to his strong opinions.

“Relax,” You said, waving a hand. “It’s been a little bit since I’ve seen him anyway. If he really wanted to eat me he probably would’ve come by the house.” Your father gave you a disgusted look, making you smile nervously before setting your fork down on your empty plate. "On a… serious note, just this once," you attempted to negotiate. "Let Johnny take a look at the car; maybe he won't charge much."

“Johnny Slaughter is nothing but trouble.” Your father mumbled.

"You already mentioned that," you retorted, raising your brows. "Daddy it could save us money if we give it a shot." You stood up from your chair taking your dirty dishes and shrugging your shoulders. By the look on his face, you could tell your father was debating long and hard about it.

Letting out a sigh, your father rubbed his temples. He shook his head once more in thought before lightly thumping the table. "Just this one time," he asserted. “I’ll check with them after breakfast.”

“I can always go now while you fix the fence.“

“I don’t want you standing mere feet in front of the Slaughter boy,” Your father said standing with his empty plate in hand.

“You really think he’s gonna do something?” You say, raising a brow at him before transitioning into the kitchen. The long pause caught you off guard, considering that you expected your father to say something snarky or a short insult about Johnny. Though nothing came.

Your father had made his way into the kitchen, dumping his plate into the sink with his utensils. He gave you a firm look, his jaw clenched together tightly. "Check with him after the dishes while I try to fix the fence. If you're not back by lunch, I'm calling the sheriff."

You smiled and nodded while placing your own dishes in the sink. You hadn't seen Johnny in some time, primarily because your father didn't approve. Though he undoubtedly had little choice given the circumstances, you knew he would keep his word.

——

You arrived at the Slaughter House after what seemed like a never-ending trip. Having taken the back way since it was a little faster, it led you to the backyard which seemed for the most part unoccupied. You peered across to check if anyone was working yet as you leaned on the wooden fence. If it wasn’t Johnny it was most certainly Sissy prancing around here, roaming the sunflower fields in her bare feet. You briefly blinked, but you couldn't make out a single individual anywhere. It could have been simpler to go the long way to the front. However, just as you were ready to walk away, Sissy appeared from one of the back sheds. She doesn’t notice you right away, but when she does she approaches the fence, face once stoic turning into something… unusual. Almost like a fake smile, nothing enthusiastic whatsoever.

“Oh that’s who it is,” She said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lookin’ for Johnny?”

Your eyes swept the surroundings as you furrowed your brows and nodded. “Uhm yeah… I wanted to talk to him. Is he here?”

“Of course ya’ do,” She said, looking at you up and down. The woman had turned her back to you before calling out his name, walking away completely as she made her way towards the shed she was just in.

Your eyes avert back to the shed, seconds later seeing Johnny peek his head out. Sissy gestures behind her and says something that you couldn’t quite hear, but it prompts Johnny to tuck something away and head over. Never have you seen a man jog so fast in his life.

“Hey sunshine!” As a silly grin developed on his face, his voice resonated in your ears. He walked up to you with his head tilted to the side and his thumbs in his belt loops. “Finally came ta’ see me hm? I thought I’d have to kidnap you from yer old man.”

You smile softly, watching as you take a step away from the fence. “The old man is the reason why I didn’t come.” You spoke to him. “I thought you’d be mad about it.”

“Mad?” Johnny chuckled as he leaned his arms on the fence. “Bein’ honest? I knew ya’d come crawlin’ back, ya’ can’t resist me~.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a smirk, making him cackle in response. Johnny had a tendency to be quite… charming. Flirtatious if you might say. He was a very attractive man and he knew that, with a simple snap of a finger he could probably get a dozen women on their knees. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he would get so many lingering stares when he’s in town. It’s not like you haven’t seen him there getting stuff like tools or groceries. The man could be persuasive as well. If it wasn’t for his good looks and deadly charm, your intentions would probably be… elsewhere.

“I suppose the reason you’re here isn’t jus’ ta’ see me, is it?”

You suddenly look up at Johnny, who is grinning slyly with his thin lips. Before shrugging your shoulders, your nose lets out an amused huff. “You can say that’s part of it,” You reply, making his grin widen. “Though I needed to ask a favor.”

“Anythin’ for you doll,” Johnny said to you. “What is it ya’ need?”

“Well the car is out of commission, not sure why. Was wondering if you could take a look at it?”

Johnny nodded his head and looked over his shoulder, gazing at Sissy who had just walked into the house. “Oh sure, it shouldn't be too hard now should it?” He said looking back at you with a raised brow. “Did ya’ tell yer old man?”

“I made the suggestion.”

“How’d ‘e take it?”

“You know daddy doesn’t like you all that much.”

Your sentence caused Johnny's eyes to flinch suddenly, and his jaw to clench slightly before briefly relaxing. “I could really care less ‘bout what ‘e thinks.” He replied with the small shrug of his shoulders. “But ‘e agreed did ‘e?”

“With a little convincing yes,” You replied with the nod of your head. “I was hoping you could possibly stop by today?”

“I can go righ’ now if ya’ want to.”

“That would be great.”

Johnny nodded his head and pushed himself off the fence. “Alright, I’ll go get the truck. Comin’ inside?”

You shook your head no. You expected yourself to be swarmed with his family. They did ask a lot of questions and you didn’t want to be bombarded to answer. Which honestly made you curious, considering what they ask is quite… strange. “No but thanks, I'll start heading home. I’ll meet you there.”

——

The lemonade you had prepared hadn’t been long. It was sweet, and tasted amazing. You hummed taking a sip from your own cup, setting it down on the counter before pouring another glass. Transitioning to the back door you take a glimpse through the window, which made you stop completely in your tracks.

There he was, the Slaughter boy working on the car out back. His slicked back hair came undone while little strands stuck to his forehead, the one he wiped sweat off from due to the heat from the Texas sun. Gloved hand reaching down to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to wipe his drenched face. Those muscles, his toned frame as he turned slightly, all so shaped with scars of an unknown origin. It made your face heat up, cheeks dusted with a bright blush that only darkened when you stepped away from the window. Johnny was a fine looking man, and there was no doubt in his mind that you had some hidden feelings for him.

You opened the door to the back porch, a glass of cold lemonade in hand. Your thin flats make way to Johnny, strolling in your shirt and shorts. Jeez it's hot out. The closer you got to Johnny just showed how drenched he was in sweat.

“How’s it going?” You ask, finally approaching Johnny with the glass. “I got you this, you look like you need it.”

Johnny’s brown orbs flicked over to you, his brows raising in an instant. “You’re a sweetheart ya’ know that,” A smile spreads across his cheeks. Taking the glass from you he sighs, putting it up to his lips and taking large gulps from the beverage. You couldn’t help but stare, and when he was done he licked his lips before looking at you. Look at him all smug, the man chuckling as he took the hood of the car and slammed it shut. “Like whatcha see darlin’?”

You pucker your lips and blinked in shame, realizing you had been staring at him intently. Then you grunted and crossed your arms as the person in front of you laughed. Such a confident smile on a man. It surprised you that you didn't seem to care about it as much as you implied. “I’d like to see if the car is fixed,” You replied with the simple roll of your eyes, making Johnny take the keys from his pocket and wave them in your face. With that, you went to grab them but he pulled his hand back.

“I have a question for ya’.” He blurts, the keys still in his possession. “I remember the las’ time ya’ said somethin’— when ya’ came over. ‘Bout the sunflower fields, yeah?”

You blinked at his question, nodding your head in response. “Oh… yeah, I think I remember.” Raising your brows you thought about it for a moment. “I think it was how pretty they looked in the evening. Though I didn’t get to stay for long.”

You recall it clearly leaving at that time. In your short sundress, you stood next to Johnny as he leaned his back against his truck while you spoke. The man had just finished his cigarette, leaving a difficult day at the back of his boot. Before you arrived, the brunette and a member of his family got into an argument. In any case, that is all he told you. You had just mentioned the sunflower fields and how much you cherished the scene each time you visited. How lovely they appeared in the garden in the waning evening light.

During that time you had caught Johnny staring, his brown orbs gazing from where he leaned at on the side of the car. You had made a comment, making him smirk and push himself off the vehicle. “You’ve got some nerve sunshine,” His voice all teasing as he took your wrist. The man had pulled you close to him, the heat from his body signaling your proximity. “We’re all alone out here. If I wanted ta’ ‘stare at you all night’, I know jus’ the way to do it~.”

The reality that was only intensifying your blush had slowly crept back into your thoughts. Johnny had drawn nearer to you, which you suddenly realized. His face was incredibly close to yours—just inches apart. You raised your head to see him as his eyes played with a sly sparkle.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it too?” His tone of voice was playful. Given that you didn't react, he laughed. “I know ya’ are darlin’, considerin’ I have it on my mind.”

Your breathing quickened, and it seemed as though a simple step or downward lean would practically close the distance between you. You couldn't speak because your stomach was churning with butterflies.

“I almost had ya’, if it wasn’t for Sissy butting into what didn’t concern her.”

Johnny didn’t have to say much to make you feel flustered, let alone so excited by him. His words had made your thighs press together slightly, in an attempt to hide that feeling which pooled in the pit of your abdomen. Oh and did he notice. He was observant to say the least, so of course he noticed the subtle movement of your thighs just clamping together. Pressing together at his words that you knew in some ways were true.

“How cute,” He teased, making your eyes widen slightly. “And ta’ think— you didn’t want me, but look at cha’. Holding those cute little thighs taa’ hide what I do to ya’.”

“No! That’s not true!” You fought with him, taking the keys from his hands while he was so distracted. Johnny chuckled as you moved quickly to the driver’s side door, opening it and hopping in. Putting the key into the ignition, you look over at the man who was gesturing you to roll the window down. With a loud huff you did. Set his arms on the opening of the window, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” He responded. The young man watched as you turned the car on, the engine running to life and your face lighting up in the process. “Good as new. Jus’ a couple loose wires and bolts.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” You thank him, turning the car off. “Now I don’t have to walk miles just for a carton of milk.”

“You’ve been walkin’?”

“It’s been an on and off issue.”

Johnny raised his brows at that, but shrugged his shoulders moments later. “Well if it breaks down again, come by and see me.”

“Why thank you,” You roll your eyes and open the door to the car, making Johnny step away as you pull yourself out. “It’s getting close to lunch time, would you like something to eat while you go home?”

When it was time to close the door, you noticed that Johnny had been creeping up again. When you turned, he was as close as he had been before. It was like a predator stalking his lonesome prey, all alone with nowhere to go. He wrapped his thumbs in his belt loops, eyes glancing at the house before his full attention on you. “Shooin’ me ta’ leave already?” He grinned, making you roll your eyes again.

You cross your arms, this boy had some nerve. Standing so dangerously close and making those remarks. “I was trying to be nice.”

“So sweet,” Sarcasm poured from his lips as a large smile curled. “But sure, as long as it's as sweet as you~.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You could feel your face start to heat up again, oh did it amuse Johnny. His charm worked without even having to break a sweat.

“Playin’ dumb hm?” He had a cheeky smile on his face. “If ya’ want, I can get inta’ more detail.”

You were hesitant, feeling the raw stare of questioning eyes from afar. The tilt of Johnny’s head fuels your hesitation but only momentarily. “Johnny you shouldn’t be so close,” You say, your eyes wandering to the window who you expected your father to be watching. They widened and went back to Johnny immediately. “Daddy’s watching us.”

Johnny’s eyebrows come close together, making the bridge of his nose scrunch light folds. “And?” His voice lowers an octave, eyelids lowering to a half lidded stare. “Could stare all ‘e wants.” His eyes lower into a half lidded stare, his smile fading away. He looked… dangerous. “Ya’ liked those sunflower fields huh? Why don’t cha’ come by this evenin’ after eatin’?”

“You know I can’t do that…”

A hint of disappointment sparkled in Johnny’s eyes. “Why not?” His voice sounded almost monotone.

“Because—“

You hear the back porch door open, turning your head to see your father walking out of the house. Johnny took the opportunity to step back from you, moving his way to the front hood of the car. Despite your father’s efforts, he still had a suspicious look on his face. He approached the two of you, his hands once shoved in his pockets now out as he moved around to the side of the car where you were.

“Is she fixed?” He asked, Johnny nodding his head.

“Yessir, jus’ a couple wires and bolts.” The Slaughter boy replied. “Shouldn’t be any issue fer now, but yer more than welcome ta’ stop on by if it happens again.”

Your father nodded, inspecting the vehicle and getting the keys from you. “I’mma take her for a drive, see if she’s running properly. I… appreciate your help… Johnny.”

The grin on his face told you plenty. “Anytime.” Johnny said to your father.

The man who raised you had given you a side eye, taking a sigh before going to the car. He had hopped in and both you and Johnny moved away. “Did you want to come?” He had asked you.

“Oh no, I’ll get dinner ready.” You said waving your hand. “You’re just going to town right? It should be almost done by the time you get here.”

Your father had indicated that it wouldn't be long by nodding. He was aware that leaving you with Johnny could lead to problems, but since you were an adult, he couldn't stop you from doing it. After saying that, he drove off the property while you closed the fence in his absence. You watched as he proceeded down the road until, at last, the car was no longer in view.

“So… about the fields.” You turn to Johnny, who you had heard from behind you with his heavy boots. He’d been smoking a cigarette, the bud stuck in his mouth while his hand shoved something in his back pocket. “You said after supper?”

“Ohhh, are ya’ considerin’?”

“Shut up,” You scoff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you say please… I might consider it.”

“You’re kiddin’?” You smile and shrug your shoulders, making Johnny roll his eyes with the click of his tongue. “Please?”

“You could do better.”

It made him laugh, shaking his head with a malicious smile. He had cleared his throat, leaning in close to you before he purred a low, “Please~?”

It made you blush deeply, before coughing softly to look away. “Okay… you’ve convinced me.” Side eyeing him, you smirk. “Could’ve been better.”

“Cheeky lil’ thing aren’t ya’?” He scoffs. “I’ll see ya’ later then, sweet pea.”

Tags: @optimsluv

Part 2 is up! >> RSSF PT.2

#johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #texas chainsaw game #the texas chainsaw massacre #x reader #eventual smut #suggestive content

[angel-of-the-moons]

Cycles

Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/Content Warnings: NSFW, Smut, PIV Sex, Heat/Rut Cycles, Territorial, bit of Feral!Miguel, improper use of webs, pheromones, hormones, predator/prey dynamic if you squint, Unprotected Sex, Biting, Scratching, Bondage(?), Breeding Kink (c'mon we all know Miguel has one), established relationship, boyfriend/girlfriend, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob

MINORS DNI: I am not responsible for the content that you are about to read/consume, if you are upset by the themes in this fic, do not read it and scroll on by!

A/N: For context, you are a Spider-Woman who is one of (maybe the only) the few Spiders who have similar powers to Miguel. This is my first Miguel x Reader fic I've ever written, and my first fic ever posted here on Tumblr! (Header does not indicate reader's race)

Earth 7164. New York. Middle of summer.

The scent hit him the moment he tore through the portal. A heavy, sweet, earthy scent that flooded his whole body with a rush of adrenaline. Even the fat droplets of summer rain that fell from the dingy skyline did little to diminish that delicious, mouth watering scent.

Your scent.

His body was trembling as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the tension that roped its way through his heavy muscles. His talons flexed as he gritted his teeth, each drag of his lungs pulling your scent into his body.

Miguel O'Hara was a man who would claim he had a good sense of control over his urges. He would also say he was a good boyfriend, attentive. A bit protective (some would say possessive).

But, he had been neglecting you as of late, his duties in the Spider Society and ensuring the safety of the universe had kept him away from you these past few weeks, and he almost lost track until he felt that familiar boiling of his blood, an itch that he knew could only be scratched by you.

And he knew that you would be experiencing a similar situation to him, almost parallel. In fact, he surmised you were probably the only Spider who had similar powers. The only difference was that whereas Miguel's powers were (sort of) intentional, and other Spiders were given to them after being bitten by radioactive spiders... You were born like this. They didn't know why. Hell, you didn't know why.

You had the venom (you could consciously control how much you pumped out in every bite), you had your own talons (although yours were a part of your nails, not in the pads of his fingers and toes), the wall crawling abilities, natural web-shooting...

And your cycle. At first having you around was torture on his senses when it would roll around. It would start with your scent changing; the dampness he picked up from between your legs making the blood rush straight to his dick. More often than he'd like he'd have to excuse himself to his private lab to jerk himself off until he felt some of his clarity return.

But it was always just a temporary relief. It only got worse when your breeding cycle and his rut cycle synced up, resulting in the two of you needing to almost be sedated and kept away from each other. (How Lyla kept that under wraps, Miguel never knew.)

And once your dynamic shifted and you started seeing each other, and eventually getting intimate... well. He was positive that Jess or Peter suspected what was up... Especially when he would disappear to your universe for a week or so, only to come back in a slightly better mood, small dark patches peeking out from beneath the collar of his suit, or you would be walking funny or unable to sit comfortably.

Right now, though, those thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. The only thing he could think of was you. He could smell you, taste you in the air. This was your territory, and he... Could be considered an intruder, depending on your mood.

A male spider waltzing into a pissed off and horny female spider's web during breeding season.

Shaking his head, he took another deep drag of the air around him, the smell of the city mixing with your earthy, almost fruity tones. Your scent was faded slightly, but he could still use it to track you beneath the smog, garbage, and vehicle exhaust.

It's not like he didn't know where your apartment was... But he knew during this period of time you'd be restless, irritable, angry.

And mind-numbingly horny.

Miguel launched himself up, slinging his wrist out and using his glowing webs to propel himself in between the buildings and skyscrapers; leaping, flipping, arching through the sky in a red-and-blue blur.

He knew he was closing in on you. Your scent was all but strangling him, choking the air and what little sanity he was clinging to right out of him.

He should have known you were waiting.

Miguel was rammed into with the speed of a runaway train, the oxygen he so desperately needed ripped from his lungs as he tumbled with a roll onto the rooftop below, landing on all fours as his talons dug into the concrete and tar, leaving deep grooves as he slowed himself.

He lifted his gaze to see you land in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling.

"I have been waiting for you, for almost two weeks." You wheezed out.

"Hell of a way to greet me, querida." Miguel grunted, pulling himself to his feet.

Beneath your mask, he knew your eyes immediately dragged down to the hard bulge pressing against his suit, the hard outline of it sending a fresh throb of arousal straight to your core.

"The kick was a bit much." He said, trying to maintain a professional composure.

But his control was quickly slipping.

"Shut the fuck up."

The short rebuke didn't surprise him.

"Should have been here days ago." Miguel said, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. "I know that. But--"

You cut him off by lunging at him, hurling your full weight onto him and pinning him down beneath you.

The heat between your legs felt like it melted through his suit, burning the skin beneath and causing a fever to spread.

You raised your fist to bring it down on his face but his reflexes allow him to catch it, gripping you like a steel vice. His other hand gripped your thigh as he planted his feet on the rooftop, rolling to pin you beneath him, his massive frame caging you in.

He squeezed your hips between his thighs, muscles tensing and twitching, breathing heavy. Your free hand reached out and clawed at him, tearing at his suit, leaving a rainbow of glitched out fabric behind, small droplets of blood rushing forth to drip down his tanned skin.

He gritted his teeth at the sensation, the sweet burn sending another wave of heat through his body that made his cock twitch.

You were past talking, past negotiating and being civil. You knew what you wanted, and you wanted it now.

You breathed heavily, gritting your teeth as Miguel gripped your thigh and forced your knee by your head, squeezing the plushest part as his face dragged down to the dark patch soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Using this new position, you kicked at him square in his chest and threw him off of you.

Before he could right himself, you rolled to your feet and jumped off the roof, shooting a web to sling you away from him.

Sure, you were horny and wanted to ride his cock til he couldn't see straight for a month. But he had been gone for weeks and you had been struggling with your own self-care, your measley silicone toys and vibrators barely able to compare with that womb-punching length that Miguel crammed into you, or his skillful and knowledgeable hands rubbing you until your eyes rolled back. But right now, you were pissed.

He wanted your pussy? He was going to have to work for it.

And if that meant playing your cat and mouse game for an hour, building the anticipation and making his cock leak; aching, desperate for a taste of you? So be it.

You played this game for a while, teasing him, getting within arms reach before yanking yourself away at the last possible second, thwarting his attempts to catch you.

Sometimes you liked to play with your food.

But all games come to an end. And this one had an abrupt ending when Miguel headed you off, tackling you to the roof of some abandoned warehouse, pinning you down on your belly, hands above your head.

"Bout fucking time I caught you. Tu pequeño bromista.." (You little tease.) He snarled, leaning down to your ear as his mask dissipated from his head, letting his wavy chocolate hair fall free, damp strands plastering themselves to his forehead.

His eyes were wild, red and glowing; pupils blown wide.

"Fuck you." You hiss, squirming under him.

"Oh, sucederá en, no te preocupes." (Oh, don't worry, it will happen.)

Miguel raised his free hand and brought it down hard on your ass, making you bite your lip to contain the mewl that tried to claw its way out of your throat.

"Look at you, now, hermosa." He sneered, his chest huffing in a small, humorless laugh. "I can fucking smell you from a mile off."

He reached down and cupped your mound, his fingers squishing slightly in the damp fabric of your suit; but once again you deny him a moan, instead biting into your lip, fangs threatening to puncture your lip.

You squirm an arm free and go to elbow him in the face, get him off of you. (Or under you.)

But he predicted that. That's what always got you going when you were in the middle of your cycle. You liked it rough.

His large hand completely encircled your elbow and forced your arm back down. Quickly, he used his glowing, laser-webs to secure your wrists together before he gripped the fabric of your suit with his talons, shredding it as he yanked you over so you were on your back.

Miguel smiled and yanked your mask off of your head, tossing it to the side before gripping your chin with his fingers, putting enough pressure to keep your eyes on his.

"Now... What should I do with you?" He said contemplatively, tapping your cheek with his index finger, making a show of thinking, his eyes dragging over the flushed features on your face, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips.

"Ah. That's it." He grinned, his slightly askew teeth gleaming in the dark. He grips you by the front of your torn suit and pulls you to your knees as he stands.

He grips the crotch of his suit, and rips at it with his talons, the torn edges doing that kaleidoscopic glitch of colors as his cock springs free from its confines; large, twitching, angry red tip leaking in excitement.

You have to bite your tongue to keep in your little groan, your heart soaking through and dripping out through your suit.

"Hmh." He grunted, annoyed. "I'll loosen your fucking mouth. I've been keeping myself under control this whole time. But now? I'm not going to be gentle."

He gripped your hair, just shy of painful as he dragged your head to his crotch, the tip of his cock smearing his precum across your cheek.

"Chúpalo." (Suck it.)

You finally give in, your hands bound in your lap as you drag your tongue along a prominent vein in the velvety skin of his shaft, earning a deep, rumbling groan from him that you swore sent vibrations straight to your cunt, making you flutter around nothing.

You pull your head back and swirl your tongue around the tip, pulling and tugging as you lap at his slit, eagerly tasting every drop of pre he was giving you before diving in and taking the rest of his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.

He massaged your scalp, his talons tickling the skin under your hair as he encouraged you to continue.

But you knew his calm demeanor wasn't going to last. It wasn't long before he grabbed at your hair with both hands, forcing you to choke down on his length, just shy of blocking off your airway as he fucked your face, the tension and stress from your cat and mouse game coming out as his tip kept shoving at your throat, your nose brushing the dark curly hairs at the base, his balls slapping your chin with every thrust; saliva pooling around his length as you keep your fangs pulled back as you let him use your throat like a fleshlight.

You close your jaw microscopically, fangs grazing the flesh.

"Míralo!" (Watch it!) He reprimanded, pulling your hair roughly to pull you back, his cock springing out of your lips with a wet pop, saliva connecting the tip with the soft pink muscle in your mouth like a weak bridge.

"Be a good girl." He snarled, pulling you back down on his length, barely letting you catch your breath before forcing you all the way down, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you choked and gagged.

You knew exactly how to lick, suck, and tug at his cock to get the best reactions, the most delicious sounds from him.

You snuck a glance up at him, watching as he tipped his head back with a throaty groan as you greedily swallowed him down.

You moaned around him; his cock throbbed.

You felt him twitch, felt his hips sputter as he gritted his teeth.

"Fuckin' close." He snarled, looking down at you as your eyes connected with his feral ones.

You rocked your clothed cunt on your heel, trying desperately to get some friction to your aching clit. Miguel caught this motion, and held you down on his cock, choking you from not letting you ease off.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself." He said through gritted teeth, pulling your head back with a harsh tug, letting you get a gulp of air before voraciously fucking your mouth again. You obeyed his command, sitting in your slick that was dripping down and out of you, your folds puffy and neglected.

"Fuck..." He breathed heavily, he could feel that burn, that coil about to snap, his blood boiling and rushing straight to the tip of his dick as he felt his balls draw tight.

You moaned softly around him, gagging slightly before that rush of heat flooded your mouth as you worked your throat to swallow every last drop of the load he was feeding you.

Miguel panted, dragging some much needed air in his lungs as he let you pull back, hacking and coughing as your airways flooded with oxygen again. You grin maliciously and bite down on his thigh. No venom of course, but just enough to remind him you were there, earning you a sharp glare and a slap to the back of your head as you licked your lips.

He ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn't but a moment later before he yanked you to your feet, and shoved his tongue past your lips to overpower yours, tasting his cum lingering on your breath as his heavy rut-scent flooded your nose. You moaned shamelessly into the kiss, biting and tugging at each others lips until a burst of cooper flooded your mouth.

Miguel pulled away and licked at his bloody lip, before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He barreled into you, forcing you against a rooftop air-conditioning unit.

His hand reached down as he ripped at your suit, your breasts bouncing free.

Of course you weren't wearing a fucking bra. Probably no panties either. Because you were just that fucking horny and desperate.

He leaned down and took one of your pebbling nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly as you push your head back against the unit, the metal bumping as you do, a strangled cry coming from you.

He pulled back, before delving back down and putting the same torture on your other tit. This time however he pulled back, biting down on the marshmallowy flesh, making you mewl out as his tongue laves over the mark he made.

"Miguel!" You snarl, thrashing your leg to kick at him, your frustration and neglect finally getting to you.

Miguel caught your flailing lim and forced it up, pinning it against the air-conditioning unit with another shot of his webs, before securing your already bound hands with more, above your head.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his hot and heavy breath ghosting over your sweaty skin, before his hands once again swiped and gripped at your cunt, pawing at it like a cat kneading a blanket.

Miguel lazily dragged two fingers torturously slow up your slit, before punching your clit hard through the fabric.

"You've been misbehaving... But I know you're just going to keep acting out until I give you what you want." Miguel sneered into your ear.

You whimpered, arching into his touch as he pulled away, making a frustrated sob at the lack of contact.

You nearly had the air punched out of your lungs when Miguel dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy like it was a drug he needed a hit of. He opened his mouth and dragged his tongue up the soaked fabric, before latching on and sucking.

Now this was new. Getting eaten out through the fabric of your clothes. There was too much contact but somehow not enough as he rutted his nose at your clit, sucking more at your folds drawing more of your slick through the fabric.

You thrashed against his webs, trying so hard to roll your hips and fuck his face, but with the way you were pinned, you were at his mercy, especially when he hoisted your free leg over his shoulder. He pressed two fingers against your covered hole as he furiously suckled your clit.

Your orgasm crashed into you so hard you couldn't even manage a scream, your mouth just hung open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as a fresh gush of slick leaked through your suit.

Miguel smiled against you and tore your suit's crotch open, and you shivered as the humid, summer air made contact with your slick and creamy folds. You barely had a second to realize what was happening before Miguel plunged back in, his nose rutting your clit once more as I sucked at your cream, your slick covering his chin.

Miguel was the best sexual partner you ever had, he knew exactly how to eat you out to the point you lost your voice without even using it.

Just as your second orgasm was creeping up on you, he pulled his mouth away, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and licking his chops like a dog eyeing a juicy stake.

His cock bobbed against his stomach as he stood, a steady stream of precum dribbling out of the tip and to the ground below.

He pulled your free leg to wrap around his waist as he slid the underside of his cock against your puffy cunt.

Miguel bit down on your shoulder, hard as he forced himself into you with one brutal thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he punched your guts through your womb with his cock, spearing you wide as he set a rapid, relentless pace for the both of you.

You uttered breathless pleas, praises, and incoherent mumblings with each thrust; the two of you grunting and moaning in each others ears like rabid animals, Miguel's cock slamming home into your pussy, squelching, dripping, the slap of skin and hips colliding filling the very atoms around you.

Your body screamed, cried, ached for him to fuck you, fill you up to the brim.

Miguel's tip crammed against your cervix in such a brutal way that you swore he bullied himself into your womb with every thrust. It was a blossoming pain that bled into pleasure, quickly bringing you back to the edge of your second orgasm that he had denied you.

"That's it, baby." Miguel snarled in your ear. "Ah... So tight for me. You want me?"

You nodded, whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Want me to fuck you til you can't walk for a week? Stretch you til all you can think of is my cock?" He said, his voice edging on a gleeful tone as he pants, turning his head and licking at the sweat on your neck.

"Want me to fucking breed you?"

You bite into his shoulder at that, whimpering as his suit glitches around your fangs and you lick at the blood welling up.

He hissed, and his pace became frantic, almost angry as he reaches down and pinches your clit like before, and your orgasm comes flooding through every blood vessel in your body as you jerk mindlessly against him, your pussy crushing down on him, milking him for everything he can give you.

He moans loudly in your ear, snapping his hips up into yours, balls slapping your ass as you cry out, sobs wracking your chest as your vision blurs and the tension rips out of you.

You whimper, and hiccup against him when he forces himself into you one last time, his tip kissing that oh so lovely spot inside as he pumps his heavy and sticky load deep inside your pussy, dripping out of you with each jagged thrust as he fucks you through his orgasm.

When Miguel's hips still, his hand pets at your hair as he kisses your jaw, nipping the skin there as he slices the webs holding your legs and hands up.

"Mmmmh. I needed that." Miguel sighed into your hair.

You grunted in response, your fists gripping at his suit as you pull him down for a hungry and toothy kiss.

"Take me home and fuck me." You demanded.

All Miguel could do was smile, and carry you back to your apartment. The real trick was keeping his cock sheathed inside of you as he swung from building to building, trying to avoid anybody who may have a camera phone...

But honestly? You didn't care.

However...

The two of you did care, a few weeks later.

When two little pink lines appeared on the stick in your hand.

"Fuck."

#miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel O'Hara x you #my writing #spiderverse smut #smut

[whorediaries-09]

i still do it for you, babe 🩷 bf!sirius black x gf!slytherin!reader in a secret relationship bc she's friends with regulus black, hiding and having the best night with siri in the ROR also HI, how have you been?

i've been really stressed lately, considering exams start from the 20th. anyways, how about you?

so high;

pairing- sirius black x slytherin!reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- did. ya'll. listen. to. freak. by. ldr. (demo).

ps- i hope ya'll like hehe.

the slut club

you ain't gotta say a word, just spark that, let's get burnt

he had you pinned down to the mattress, as he teasingly pressed kisses all over your face, slowly moving down your neck. the slow sensuousness of his kisses were contrasted to the way he roughly pounded into you. his cock was deep into you, hitting just the right spots inside you. the room echoed the sound of skin slapping and heavy moans of pleasure.

'i haven't felt you in so long,' he breathed, completely enamored by your body. you nodded, your mind too blank with consuming ecstasy to reply. you breathed heavy, tangling your arms around his neck, pressing his temple against yours. it was a never ending loop of pleasure that burned through you, simmering under your skin.

'i missed you so much,' you whispered, feeling his cock hit your g spot just right. sirius had your body memorized, and he could sculp you out, pore by pore even with his eyes closed. you were a drug, a fallen angel from heaven. he was high, not from his cigarettes but by you. he felt like a fucking domino, he'd fallen on his knees just for you, and worship you like his goddess. you'd gotten him good.

the tears of pleasure strained down your face, ruining your eye makeup. he could feel the heat radiate of your neck as he entangled his fingers into your hair, pulling your lips to his. he slid his tongue into your mouth, capturing you in a filthy and dirty kiss. his cock plunged in and out of you, your stomach boiling with the hotness of your release.

he could feel it. you were clenching your walls around him, curling your toes, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he could feel your thighs shake. he slid a finger down between your connected bodies, rubbing your clit. he left your lips, a string of saliva following your swollen lips.

'cum for me sugar. scream my name as loud as you want to,' he begged, pounding into your convulsing walls. his ears wanted to hear you moaning his name like a sweet fucking melody. it was the fuel to his fiery desire.

you nodded, as you felt your coil of orgasm snap, painting his abs. you cried out his name, your throat raw and harsh. it was a cacophony of your moans and his when he continued pounding into you through your release. he chased his own, your puffy walls and moans fueling him to paint yours his.

'sirius, cum inside me, make me yours,' you encourage through gasps, digging your nails into his back. he gasps, as the nail hits the coffin, releasing himself inside you, painting your cunt with hot ropes of his cum.

he moaned, pulling himself out, and falling beside you. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. he wanted to feel your skin against his, feel your scent infiltrate him, infuse him. he pressed soft kisses down your back.

'i love you so much,' he said, squeezing your hip. you turned around to face him. your eyes bore into his. they were blown with lust and love. you pressed a soft kiss on his nose and he smiled.

'i love you more...but i've to clean,'

'no,' he whined. you laughed, clenching your thighs together, hoping the next day wouldn't be much of a sticky mess.

'okay we'll do it tomorrow,'

******

'where have you been!' regulus shouted. he was normally a soft spoken person, but you'd missed a few lessons, and he was concerned. so when you finally showed up from god knew where, he exploded.

his eyes slowly wandered over you. he opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. you hoped sirius hadn't given you any hickeys you had to cover up.

'i-i slept in,' he stared at you skeptically.

'are you sure?'

'yeah!' you chimed, a little too enthusiastically for it to be an honest statement. he deadpanned an expression of thoughtfulness before he replied,

'you're wearing a red tie,'

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

[astroboots]

Don't they know it's the end of the world

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: There are many things Joel would like to forget, you hope you're not one of them.

Rating: Explicit. I just want to fuck old man Joel.

Content: hurt/comfort, explicit sex-town, cowgirl position yee-ha, post-apocalyptic angst and jazz. Mentions of death, blood and gore, but the real warning all along was emotionally unavailable men.

Word Count: 3.5k

Astroboot’s Masterlist 

The thing that nobody warned you about living in a post-apocalyptic world (to use the dramatic phrase) is that when the world as you know it has ended. When an unprecedented catastrophe transforms the very fabric of your reality. In the midst of abandoned cities, dilapidated high-rise buildings overrun with moss and ivy, and rusted cars forsaken on the highway. This horrific new world of unending horrors, at some point, with enough days gone by, becomes common place.

After the first and second year, you're no longer bothered by the constant aches and how everything hurts, everywhere all the time. The new bruises that spring up overnight to replace old healing, because sleeping on concrete and dirt will do that to you, isn't as overwhelming. You barely mind the constant blunt ache in your lower back from unloading crates anymore. Or the way your feet are always blistering and covered in callouses that crack and split and bleed. It's all background noise.

After the third and the fourth, you're no longer dry-heaving at the burnt metallic smell of charred flesh and human hair that reminds you of melted and burnt plastic when they're tossed into fire. Your sense of smell dull to it.

After the fifth year you think that hollow feeling in your chest of missing home, is no longer a constant. At most it comes to you in glimpses. Because sure, there are a million and one things you still miss. The sweetness of cereal soaked in milk. The lingering smell of peonies from your shampoo after a steaming shower. The way your cat used you as a headrest while watching TV.

You miss cupcakes. You miss the cinema. You miss pumpkin lattes. You miss the forest ground covered in auburn leaves in the fall. You miss your mom. You miss--

You miss a lot of things. Small little things, and you remember each one of them despite the years that passes.

But the mind adapts. It doesn't consume you with a hollowness that makes you burst into tears at any given moment anymore. Humans are nifty like that. Our brains rewire to accept the new realities and life just goes on somehow.

You accept the military surveillance. Of men in vests and gear, wearing blank expressions, with rifles slung across their shoulders like it were backpacks, ready to use them at the slightest provocation if you so much as dared to cough in their presence.

You get used to cracking jokes about priests walking into bars, while burying your dead, not because you're unfeeling, or not understanding of the graveness of what you're doing, but because the human mind cannot be relentlessly scared and sad and depressed and unhappy without reprieve.

Instead like much else, that seems horrific and world-ending at first, it becomes background noise.

---

"Uno," you announce as you drop the last card in the pile of red, blue and green cards in front of him.

Joel scowls, that furrowed wrinkle between his brow carves deep with displeasure.

"You're cheating. I've never played this game where stacking is allowed. The correct rule is no stacking."

This again. You scoff. This topic of conversation comes up every now and then (everytime he loses in fact) because the two of you has solely been relyng on your memory to reconstruct the rules given that the manual to the pack of cards were lost long ago.

"I'm not having this argument with you again Joel, I've told you. The rules allow stacking, you're misremembering it."

You shake your head at him and smile. He doesn't smile back. He never really does. Instead he folds his arms across his wide chest, leaning back as he appraises you with skepticism.

"What if you've forgotten the rules?"

"I don't forget things, I'm not you" you say lightheartedly.

He's already passed out when you let yourself in through the front door tonight.

It's a sparse apartment, like all the other accommodations in the area. The mismatched dining chairs and fold up table is not much to look at, but there are still hints of the family who had made this place their home before they had to leave it. The feminine touch of flowery rose wallpapers. Scribbled markers of their children's height year by year. The claw-marks of a dog by the front door.

If Joel left tomorrow, you don't think it would tell much of a story of him or the life you lead together. The only thing that's his besides the radio and music catalog is the blue butterfly sticker that sparkles on the window.

And even with that, you don't quite know what story it is meant to tell or why he'd put it up. You only know it wasn't there when he moved it because it appeared out of nowhere after Tommy left. It clashes with the rest of the decor. Something that belongs to a young girl's bedroom and not a grumpy former veteran addicted to painkillers. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put one plus one together and deduce it's something of sentimental value to him.

It's always confounded you, because that is so unlike the man you know.

Unlike you, Joel forgets. He makes it his mission to forget. Expired opioids from god knows how long, you're surprised they don't crumble into dust when they're exposed into open air.

There are horrors in his memories that Joel wants wiped clean, and he doesn't care if the good memories go with them, as long as he doesn't have to look at them in the broad daylight.

You never said anything about it, don't pry and you don't ask questions. You don't ask him for anything period. You just let him be and take him as he is. You suspect that that's why he's allowed himself to keep you around for so long.

The room is dimly illuminated from the night light has been left on for you, and you try to be quiet as you make your way to him on the bed. He's lying curled up on his side, back turned to you.

Broad shouldered as he is, with a build that reminds you of a bear at times, in this position, there's something vulnerable about him right now that's reserved for your eyes only. His face is no longer tense, against the amber hue that bathes the room. The specks of grey and white in his beard, soft to the touch.

He's half-dragged into consciousness as you dip your knee into the mattress, as he lifts the tattered, moth-eaten quilt and makes space for you.

Reaching behind you, you kill the light. Then you wrap your one arm over his waist, tucking one leg between his thick and firmer ones. He sighs into his pillow and leans into your touch.

There are things that you know Joel wants to forget, you would like to believe that this won't become one of them.

"Are you awake?" he murmurs against the nape of your neck. His voice is gravelly and worn with sleep.

You open your eyes and the world greets you with darkness. It's too early to be awake at this ungodly time.

His chest is pressed up against your back, warm and firm, and you hum in reply. "Barely."

You nuzzle into the scratchy linen of your pillow, inhaling deeply to relax back into sleep. But Joel isn't turning back around. He's still behind you, almost hovering above you as if he wants to tell you for something, but doesn't.

You raise yourself slightly, reaching over the nightstand to flicker on the small lamp there.

Turning back towards him, you observe him for a moment. The slight sheen of sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat. His eyes wide and alarmed, hands closed into a tight fist into the sheets. His whole body is wired for a fight, even though he's just woken up and it's dead quiet in the still of the night without a threat.

"Did you have a nightmare?" you finally ask.

His jaw tightens at your question, which is as good of an indicator as any that he doesn't want to answer. Also a good indicator that he did have one.

You sigh, reaching your hand back to trail the soft hairs at the back of his neck. Flattening the curly ends with your fingers, and trying to comb it down in a gesture to soothe him the way others used to do for you in a different life and another world. It's a mistake.

He flinches at the touch, and stiffens awkwardly in front of you. Like he's trying to decide what's the right next course of action. To apologize or to turn back around and pretend he didn't do what he just did.

You frown at him, but say nothing. You give him the time to find his words.

"Can we just--" he starts, but his words trail off, eyes barely meeting yours. Silently pleading for you to know what he's asking for so he doesn't have to put them into words.

Joel doesn't really do softness. Doesn't accept comfort. Doesn't trust it.

But there are things that he wants, because he's only human after all. A touch, a warm body to lose himself in, a human connection. It's what everyone of us wants.

But he can't ask for it. Can't say it.

The moment he puts words it, he would have to name it. What this thing is, between the two you that you have. Where at the end of the day you return to his apartment. Where you sleep in his bed. Where he worries if you don't.

If he asks you for this, then he can't pretend there's nothing there anymore.

So you don't say anything. You don't needle him into finishing his sentence. Don't ask him what he means. You don't ask him for anything. Instead you nod.

His face shifts, the stiff crease between his brows smooths in relief and he scoots forward, chest draped flush against your back. He's already hard, the familiar thick girth pressed to your tailbone, like it's trying to carve a permanent dent into you.

"Is it okay?" he asks again, rolling his hips and the newfound pressure against his denim-covered cock has him breaking off with a gasp.

"Yeah Joel. Yes it's okay."

His fingers come to the hemline of your jeans, as he roughly shoves at it in the dark. It catches at the dip of your hips, and you can hear the gruff impatience of the man from behind, as he yanks it down further. As if sheer brutal strength is going to be the solution in here, the way it is outside these walls.

You lift up your hips to help him, long enough for him to slide the jeans off your legs and you can kick them to the floor. Vaguely you try to estimate the distance to where they landed. Because that's where you'll have to pick them up in the early morning before he gets up. But that doesn't matter right now.

There's a scuffle behind you of rustling denim and the metallic clink of a buckle being undone. You reach back with your hand against the softness of his belly, down the sparse trail of fine coarse hairs until you can wrap your hand around his hardened cock.

He shudders in relief. A soft sigh into the back of your neck as he grinds against your back, demanding more. You indulge him, swiping your thumb in a circle over the head of him. There's a sharp intake of breath from him, similar to the sound he makes after taking a swig of shitty whiskey that burns his lungs too sharply.

The indication that it's too much, and therefore just right, because it's only then that it's a relief. An escape from the current reality.

You squeeze down again, fingers wrapped firm around the thickness of his girth not allowing him any reprieve, and he thanks you not in words, but with the way he bares his throat as his head throws back in ecstasy.

For Joel, the old world never ended. Never left. He's still trapped in it. His existence now is a purgatory. He treats it like he's just sitting in a waiting room, as the days and years go by. Everything and everyone in it are transitory. Nothing in the room matters.

His hand shoots out, sliding down the bare skin of your stomach and wedges underneath your panties. One broad thumbs presses down on your clit perfunctory, and still it feels so good. Sharp heat licks your spine at the touch, and your eyes flutter close as you lean back into him.

It's brusque, the way Joel's hand comes to your thighs and spread you open for him. Unrestrained the way his fingers parts your slick folds to collect the wetness he finds there, pressing into you and curls with a familiarity when he knows he's reached that perfect spot that makes your vision whiten. Rough in much the same way he is in every other part of his life.

"Fuck, get up here," he orders gruffly.

You roll over and he wastes no time to roughly grip onto your hipbones and dragging you up his body.

Bracing your arms on his firm chest to steady yourself, you settle yourself with your knees pressed into the sides of his ribs. They're dipped into the worn-out mattress and you think you can feel the springs of the bottom of the bed dig into your kneecaps.

It's a bit uncomfortable, but you don't mind. Because you get to straddle him this way. Get to see all of him, underneath you, on display. His bare skin made golden and soft by the dim light of the night lamp.

He doesn't look like the movie-stars of old. But Joel is handsome. There's no doubt about that.

Despite his rough masculine features, there are details that don't quite match up. His lips are plump and soft, inviting. A deep crease in the curve of his bottom lip that is just begging to be kissed.

Even with the significant grey in his thick hair, and the white in his beard, the weathered look suits him well. As does the fine lines on his forehead, and the ones around his eyes.

Smile lines, an old friend of yours had called them. Does that mean he used to smile? You imagine how he must've looked like in those days. Not constantly frowning or scowling. But smiling so hard that it would make his eyes crinkles. How beautiful and carefree he must've been.

In front of you, there's no trace of that man. His jaw is set, grinding his teeth, with gritted impatience as his hands grips onto your waist and pull you forward, towards and over his cock, positioning you right where he wants you.

His hand reaches behind you, and even though you can't see it from this angle, you've seen it plenty times before to know how good his cock looks fisted in his hand, as he uses your slick, still wet on his fingers to spread it over the length of him. Then you feel it, the fat tip of him nudging against your entrance as he slowly slips inside.

A heady anticipation fills you. It shakes the core of you until it makes your thighs tremor visibly as you straddle him.

Joel is rough. He is unrestrained and brusque, but he is not unkind. Or at least you'd like to think, not to you. He steadies you, one hand still on your hip, the other a flat palm against your lower belly, as he slowly lifts his hips as you sink down on him in unison.

The first thrust always knocks your breath away. Pleasure that warms you inside out in a way that standing in a fire fails to. It fills you anr nourishes.

You drop down the rest of the way until he's as deep as he goes, until he hisses sharply again, in that tell-tale sign that it's, too much and just right.

Your chest glows with pride, and you grind down against him to elicit another noise, this time a chocked grunt that's not nearly as satisfying. But the buzzing warmth that spikes your veins more than makes up for it.

You stay there for a moment, savoring the pleasure that simmers along your spine, until Joel opens his eyes, his fingers digging a bit deeper into the plump flesh of your thighs.

"Fuck," he grumbles, "please move."

You don't deny him, you never do. Not with this, not with anything. Rising on your knees, you feel his cock drag inside you and close your eyes at the sensation until only the tip of him rests inside you. It's a slow, dragged out pace. One that Joel doesn't seem to have any patience for.

His hand around your hip wraps firm and he pushes down at the same time as you can feel him thrust upwards, until he's buried as deep as he goes.

Fuck, you feel like you can't breathe. Didn't know you could fit so much of him.

Your eyes fly open, to the sight of him, thick brows knitted in pleasure. He looks gorgeous like this. Lost in pleasure, no longer buried in a grave of regrets he can never climb out of. Mouth parted as he gasps out at the feel of you wrapped around him. You stare at his spit swollen lips and all you can think of is how you want to kiss this man. Press your lips to his and feel the full weight of intimacy of this shared moment with his arms wrapped around you.

You anchor your arms on his chest, leaning down closer to his face, hovering above his lips and it's like he can sense you. His eyes flutters open as he meets your gaze.

You wonder what it is he sees in your eyes. If the want and depth of your feelings for him are so plain to see. Because he looks at you like he's terrified.

You don't kiss him.

You drop down your hips again, as far as he goes, and his eyes squeezes shut again, both of you choosing to forget what preceded it. An unrestrained moan rips out of him and to your ears, and though he's not saying any words, it's almost like he's thanking you for forgetting.

You ride him and it's rough and there is no rhythm. He meets you with every thrust, deep and fast, like he's racing for the end.

The hand on your belly, pushes down firmer, and the pressure does something to you. The simmer of pleasure turns to an inescapable heat. It climbs up your veins and invades your ribs with it.

You come around his cock and the pleasure is punishing, a slam to your ribs that squeezes down on your very lungs. It flattens your vision, until you're disorientated with it and you nearly fall off. But Joel doesn't stop. Continues to fuck up and into you. Harsh and reckless thrusts.

Pleasure is written over every line of his face, teeth gritted as he keeps his eyes closed to you. You feel him swell thicker in you, and you know he's almost there.

With a harsh hiss, his hand on your waist, lifts you up and off of him. His freed hand comes to his cock and wraps around it. Swollen and glistening with your wetness, as he fists himself with frantic strokes.

The chords of his neck strains, and then he comes. Line after line after line of his release, coating your stomach with the warmth of him.

You're both breathing hard and fast, made louder by the silence of the room at this hour.

Joel doesn't say anything and neither do you. Instead you reach over to the nightstand to kill the light, enveloping you both in the familiar darkness.

You lay back down against the mattress and roll to your side. There's rustling noise besides you and then Joel's hand comes to your stomach, cleaning up the mess he made of you with a corner of the sheets.

---

You wake up before dawn breaks. When it's no longer dark but the sun has not had time to rise above the skyline.

Dipping your foot onto the grimy wooden floor, you walk towards the very spot your jeans had been tossed aside last night, and put them on, as quietly as you can so as not to wake Joel.

You cast one last look at him where he's lying in the same position you found him when you'd let yourself in last night. On his side, curled up, vulnerable.

Then you gently pad across the length of the living room and let yourself out of the apartment, closing the door slowly until it gently clicks.

Someday, when this version of the world is over and one of you leaves. You hope that you get to miss him.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #cici writes

[hummingbird-games]

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:  

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss ���if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧 #hmmmm fun drinking game: #take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️

[starcrossedxwriter]

Protective (One-Shot)

A/N: I have always wanted to do a Black Hollywood power couple series for MBJ. I've been working on the OC in this (Charlotte Jordan) for a while and am feeling so inspired by the amazing content from the Creed III press run. So enjoy :) I have a million random half-written one-shots of them that I may continue posting if folks are interested… make it into a real series.

A run in with a fan brings out Michael's protective side.

***

Charlotte watched her husband for a few moments, her body lazily leaning against the door frame of their bathroom. She was not used to their evenings being so silent but she knew his mind was too consumed with anger and concern to be much of a conversationalist. She understood so she left him to his thoughts for a few hours before they went to bed. However, she knew neither of them would get much sleep if they did not talk, even if it was an uncomfortable subject. 

She drug her feet across the soft carpet toward their shared bed and slid into her side, her hands pulling her wild loose curls into a pineapple on the top of her head. As she settled, his hand instinctively rested on her thigh as he absentmindedly drew patterns in her skin. She had barely been out of his sight for most of the night, always within arms length. She glanced down and examined his knuckles. They were free of the blood that had caked across his knuckles now, leaving the bruises and abrasions clear to her eye. She could not stop herself from grabbing his hand and examining it closer to see the damage for herself, a wave of guilt crashing over her. 

“It doesn’t hurt, Els.” 

She raised an eyebrow that begged him to be honest but he merely shrugged. 

“I got worse while shooting,” Michael offered, referencing the film they were currently in the midst of promoting. “It’s nothing. Promise.” 

“It’s something to me,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “We gonna talk about it?” 

He sighed, his hand rubbing his exhausted eyes. If they had not been about to engage in a difficult conversation, she would have smiled at how much he resembled their twin boys when they were fighting sleep. 

While Michael enjoyed press runs and promoting his work, pulling double duty as the director and lead of Creed III meant that this was the most exhausting press run in a long time. The only one that rivaled it in his mind was Black Panther. And he knew his actions earlier that evening were both a symptom of that exhaustion and the cause of more exhaustion for himself, his wife and their respective media teams. 

Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan and Michael B. Jordan were originally having a ball promoting Creed III together. However, tonight proved that the good vibes of their press tour could not last forever. Given their status as “movie stars,” neither of them were strangers to the occasional fan interaction that crossed the lines of human decency and decorum. Generally, they both knew how to brush it off and defuse the situation for all involved. But tonight was not one of those nights. When a fan grabbed Charlotte’s arm to try to force her to take a photo with him while on the red carpet promoting the event, Charlotte, at first, tried to handle it herself. She tried to remove herself from the vice grip around her arm, her face struggling to maintain a cheerful disposition despite wanting to grimace in pain. However, when his grip would not loosen or break, it only took mere seconds for her husband to abandon the interview he was doing further down the carpet and rush to her aid. His threatening tone did nothing to assuage the man holding her as he demanded a photo nor did Michael want to hear Charlotte’s weak attempts to agree to take the photo to end the chaotic scene forming around them. 

A one-two punch from Michael later sent the fan on his ass with a menacing threat to never put his hands on his wife again. Charlotte barely had time to process as Michael whisked her away from the carpet and her husband checked her for any additional injuries. It took longer than it should’ve for her to convince him that she was unharmed so he would  return to the carpet to finish his interviews and the evening and party to honor the movie and his hard work could continue. 

More than anything, Charlotte was frustrated and embarrassed. This incident had now gone viral, much to her chagrin, with the entire internet dissecting she and Michael’s decisions. Thankfully, most were on their side, though there were some victim blamers who felt Charlotte should have just taken the photo to keep the peace. And though she hated it, she did not disagree with them. However, she hated that the discourse was now more focused on a crazy drunk fan than her husband’s hard work and directorial debut. 

At the mention of the incident, he eyed her bare arm, a look of rage passing across his face as he took in the blossoming bruises on her usually flawless skin.

Michael, on the other hand, was so filled with visceral rage and guilt that he did not even enjoy the rest of the night. He could not tell you what happened at the event, who he spoke to, or what he even said. He did not allow Charlotte out of his sight for a single moment the entire evening. While she worked the room with the unruffled grace and poise of a star, his eyes followed her like a hawk, ready to jump in if someone so much as stared at her for too long. He had to be diligent, because the one time he was not, his wife was let bruised and it could’ve been significantly worse. 

"It stings but it’s not too bad. Promise,” she offered him a similar refrain. “I’ve had worse too, unfortunately,” she chuckled, referencing her past. Her words echoed her husband’s earlier statement. Assurances that they were ok were all they could seem to offer each other but it still felt insufficient in putting the other’s soul at ease. They could feel the restlessness in each other, the guilt and fears they felt but did not want to voice.  

"That doesn't make me feel better," he remarked, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

Charlotte winced, "Touche." She should have known mentions of her past would not ease her husband's heart, only fire him up farther. "I'm ok though, Bakari. Seriously." 

"He could've hurt you, Els. Why didn’t you get my attention? How long were you struggling with him before I noticed?” 

Charlotte sighed, she wanted to lie but she knew it never worked with Michael. He always saw through her. 

“Not long… just like 10 seconds or so.” 

“Too many seconds too long. The moment he touched you, you should’ve gotten me to handle it.” 

Charlotte threw her hands up in the air and scoffed, “You aren't my bodyguard, Bakari! You're my husband and during this press run, you're my director and co-star. I was… I was trying to avoid causing a scene at your event. It’s not about me or our relationship. This entire thing,” she waved her hands as she referenced their press tour, “Should be about you. This is your moment. And it doesn’t do shit for your reputation for the world to see you boxing fans in real life behind something small.” 

Michael’s eyes bugged out of his head. “’Something small??’ Nah fuck that. I don’t give a fuck about t-this press tour, my reputation, or any of that other shit if you’re in danger or hurt, Els. And some nigga grabbing you like he owns you ain't small shit to me. Your physical safety ain't small shit to me. Look me in the eye and tell me that wasn’t triggering for you… the way he touched you… manhandled you like that.” Her eyes shifted away from his at his statement. The truth was she could not say that. “Exactly. You don’t do shit for me pretending like it didn’t bother you when I know it did.” 

“I just… don’t want to see you get hurt because of me. What if he had tried to hit you o-or pulled out a weapon o-or something? I don’t want you to feel like you gotta protect me all the time. And I don’t wanna be a burden to you like that and mess things up for you.” 

He tugged gently on her arm, pulling his wife into his lap so her legs were straddling his thighs. She settled on his lap, his hands going to her waist. 

“Look at me,” he demanded gently as her eyes stayed trained on his chest, her guilt causing her to avoid his gaze. “None of that. Look at me, honeybee.” At the sound of his favorite nickname for her, she lifted her eyes to meet his. “I know you don’t need me to defend you or protect you. But you will never be a burden to me, ever. And you can never mess anything up for me. Protecting you isn’t a burden or a-a nuisance, Charlotte. And it ain’t an instinct I can turn off just because we’re surrounded by fucking cameras and at a work event. I never want to see you look like you did tonight, to feel unsafe when I’m 20 feet from you. That shit aint happening on my watch, aight?” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her bruised arm before sitting back up. “The night was still amazing, he deserved it and I don’t regret it and our team will figure out how to spin it tomorrow. I aint worried so you shouldn’t be either.”

She nodded, her hands resting on his bare chest. “You shouldn’t feel guilty either. If there is one thing I’ve always been with you… it’s safe. You make me feel safe.” 

She moved her hands to the bottom of her jade silk night gown before pulling it over her head in a swift movement, revealing her nude body beneath. She smirked at how quickly the frustrated in his eyes changed to lust. She knew when Michael got worked up, sex was one of his favorite ways to decompress, to lose himself in the act. It was a favorite for her too. 

“Will you let me say thank you, love?” Her fingernails trailed down the deep V toward his boxers as she sucked on the skin on his neck, feeling his erection start to grow beneath her. “For loving me,” she placed a kiss on his chest. “For protecting me.” Another kiss on his V right above his boxers. “And for always keeping me safe.” Her mouth was almost salivating as he quickly shed his boxers, his manhood at attention for the love of his life. 

However before she could get a taste, he stopped her. He lifted her head to meet his eyes and studied her for a moment. 

“You sure you’re aight?”

She nodded and smiled at him, kissing him softly. “I’m good, promise. Now let me work… please,” she bit his lip gently cause him to chuckle, his desire for sleep completely forgotten. 

Read Chapter 1 of MBJxfamous OC series

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future MBJ one shots!

#michael b jordan #michael b jordan smut #michael b jordan x reader #Michael b Jordan fanfic #mbjordanedit #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #creed iii #black writers

[ilgaksu]

i will now be referring to this situation as weimargate, because i must laugh or i will dissolve into the void.

aka i have had a VERY weird experience of it in fandom lately, and it has escalated to memes in lieu of interpretative dance*, but also i want to talk about it because i think, in more general terms, it's relevant for discussion about how fandom is evolving.

(*as illustrated by @difeisheng because i am personally intimidated by photoshop. interpretative dance would've only had me to blame.)

so. hi! if you don't know me, i am an ao3 writer who goes by the pen name ilgaksu. i have 179 fics on my ao3 account, and of those, 46 of these are for DMBJ or grave robber's chronicles. i've been writing in this fandom for roughly three years, which means according to the laws of mathematics and my own inability to stop posting about my favourite blorbos, that's a new fic every 3.39 weeks. i have not counted chapter updates in this count, but given several have multiple chapters, i think we can see there's....a lot. one ongoing series is currently sitting at about 200k, word-count wise. i like to write, overall, about disability, reclamation, legacy and memory. i also overuse semi-colons.

i am also a very private person at this point in my fandom career. this will be the first post i've made in a while talking about myself where i have allowed there to be reblogs on it. this isn't intended as an affront to anyone else in fandom. my ask box is open, sans anon, and in the last few years, i chose to reply to every comment i could to make sure i still get to engage about the characters i love without compromising my own desire for privacy about my personal life. i choose to work under an explicit persona - because we all do on the internet but i have made mine obvious and enunciated and almost a brand - because i think there is something freeing about allowing myself that experience. it's allowed me to write work that i relate to deeply without having to divulge my life to be analysed by strangers on the internet. generally, i like to post my silly little stories, talk to people about them, and then go about my day offline.

anyway, so this week, i seriously considered walking away wholesale from my current fandom, and i'd actually like to talk about why, and talk about me as a person as opposed to the narrative of persona that i've crafted.

because the reality of a persona is that a real, living person is required to animate it. if i am the person who is small and human and anxious to even speak about this, then i am also the reason the operation is running. it's a one-man show. as much as i want my work to speak for itself without my need to justify its meaning or worth, without my experiences, research and choices about my time, the work would not exist. that's just fact. it's fact for every writer and artist and podficcer and person who labours out of love you see. i also deliberately consider myself a writer as opposed to a content creator, because i believe that label mimics a wider culture i have no interest in - that of someone creating a consumable, ownable object. my fanfiction is a hobby. it cannot be owned by other people. unlike my original work, where it can be bought, there is no formal, explicit contract between me and the reader. there is, however, in fandom, an implicit social contract of equality and collaboration, where we are all equals. i am fundamentally no better than someone who never writes fic and never wants to and never will. i reject the idea of superiority among fans because i do not engage in subculture to mimic the dominant culture, the one that tells me stories are something only certain people are allowed to see themselves in, or even tell to others; that production is the only means of social capital and intrinsic worth.

i am aware, also, that by being private the way i am, i end up sacrificing some experiences that i could have by being more accessible, but i want to reiterate that i have never gone out of my way to conceal my tumblr, nor ignored people who contacted me directly to talk about my fic. in fact, if you show up to talk about my fic, i will probably be so thrilled i'll never let you leave - especially since, when it comes to a majority of it - i spend a lot of time on research, something i enjoy, and deliberately cite my research in the notes because i want to share it as part of the experience of my writing. clearly, i want ideas i have come up with to be enjoyed and loved and shared, because otherwise why would i take the risk of putting them out online, where i then cannot control how they're received or transformed?

however, since about a year ago, i've maintained a policy of works based on my own that i've had outlined clearly in my profile on ao3 here:

as someone who is playing in someone else's sandbox for free myself, my only request is if when you use an idea, usually a headcanon, which is one i created, which you can as much and in whatever way you want because that is the nature of collaborative fandom and the reason i love it so much, you cite that i was the originator of the idea. and secondly, that you let me know. this is a personal request based on how writing can be a very lonely project, even in fandom. you put your work out into the world, with no sense of who it will reach and if it will mean anything to them, and you have to work on the faith that even if it doesn't, the work itself was worthwhile. but you hope it will, because everyone hopes it will.

all of this is outlining so it's understandable to people that read this how i was completely off my face bewildered when i found out a headcanon of mine had reached the level of fanon popularity where it's been mistaken for canon, and has been for over a year at the very least, and i had literally no idea this had happened.

which, frankly, was both hilarious, in a very bizarre way, and completely, deeply sucked.

i know this is my idea because of how distinctive it is, and how much it contravenes canon - namely, that a character, hei xiazi, was a medical student in berlin during the weimar republic. i know it's mine because the timeline with the canon we're told by the actual writer of the source material doesn't match up, which i was aware of and chose to retcon. it was designed and fitted to a personal interpretation of canon material i had been working on for years, and involved a lot of time and research and intense love for the era, the character, and the ways a story about being alone in a foreign country had intertwined with my own personal life. ever since i wrote it, i assumed that the one or two people who had used it with credit were the only ones who had, and because they had honoured my request i was honestly completely thrilled. i still am that those fics exist. that's because it was collaborative.

i want to be clear: nothing about the situation as it stands has been collaborative. a writer being the last to know about the commonality of their own idea in a small fandom is not collaborative. and while it might not bother everyone, it's bothered me to the point i've had serious consideration for several days about whether i should walk away from the fandom.

but ilgaksu, surely you should be flattered that people liked the idea so much?

yes. this was never about the use of the idea. it's about the way this idea has been isolated and used with an assumption that i would have no interest in knowing, or that i would even need to know. i'm not sure what has caused this - whether the persona element of my work has led people to believe i would not have any emotions about finding this out, but i am not, actually, a persona. i am the person who uses it. and as the person who uses it, this is how it felt to find this out. it felt, and still feels uncomfortable, hurtful and isolating to find out your idea has been so beloved but that nobody considered whether you would like to know. it feels like the collaborative element of fandom has been severed from you, specifically, and that your fanwork has been treated as entirely other from you as a fan. i hope nobody else making work feels like this, and i've been told this situation is so strange as to ensure that's hopefully not the case, but i think this is an ongoing issue more widely - the idea that writers are separate from fan culture, and their works are products as opposed to the shared results of a hobby.

do i think this was deliberate? not at all. do i think this was intended to be hurtful? not even in the slightest. but i want to be clear how personal this feels.

i don't have an answer for this situation. the cat is out of the bag, ilgaksu knows about the fanon, and hei xiazi is, despite all canon, going to medical school in 1920s germany. expressing my discomfort with how this has gone down feels important to me anyway, and it's also important to me that i do it in this very detailed way so that people who were unaware do not feel personally at fault, or feel like by me expressing this i am taking this idea back from them. i always wanted this idea to be loved and to be shared.

i also always hoped this idea would find people who wanted and needed a story about someone a long way from home following an ambition, and how much fear and hope and desire goes into the decision to do something like that, and what it means to be a disabled person in a foreign country, and what it means to be queer in a foreign country, and overall what it means to be a stranger in a strange land. i want to be clear that while i wrote this for me, i also wrote it for everyone who has also lived that. i want my work to feel like someone is holding your hand, not that they're at a distance and disregarding you, the reader, and the relationship we have together during the time you read my work.

i hope in future that if you use my headcanons and are aware of that being the case, you let me know. i don't have to read the work itself if you find that intimidating. i will not go out of my way to find it. whatever you've done with the idea, i will fundamentally see it as a compliment and evidence of an exchange between us as a fandom. but i want to know because otherwise, all i see is you taking something i loved and wanted to share and enjoying it with a door firmly shut between us. i am too old to care if i'm not invited to a party, but if the party is themed around a concept i put so much thought and love - for the source material, the people who were going to read it and myself - i can't help but care. it's hard to feel like a vending machine, even if the process of making the fic is so joyful for me that i won't stop until the joy is gone. it hasn't gone yet, but this week it's been dented a bit.

anyway - if you got to the end of this, thank you. please be considerate of how much this has taken for me to express, regardless of your own feelings on it, and how unusual it is for me to make a post that is able to be shared. if you use the idea in future, you do so with my blessing, which was always there. if you want primary sources, places to start, or anything like that - fashion, language, visuals - i want to be clear you can ask me and i will be beyond thrilled to help. i always have been and i'm concerned that because of this that hasn't been clear. but i also feel like if i don't state this experience in this way at this time, and how it was experienced by me, odds are i will now forever look over my shoulder and wonder if this will happen again, and i love writing for this fandom so much that i will not allow something like that to dim that love. i know you love these characters so much too - it's why you're here. i actually used to make a lot more meta posts like this, about fan culture, and i've been considering if i will again - just less personal and less anxiety-inducing to post next time. until and beyond then, i just hope we can all consider things like this in future - that i can treat you with the same grace - and understand the pressures and anxieties of writers in fandom at this point in time especially. a lot of us have hearts far more made of glass about the things we love, like our work, than can be immediately apparent.

anyway, i'm going back into hiding now.

your friendly local cryptid fanwriter,

ao3 user ilgaksu <3

#personal #fandom #okay to reblog

[idyllic-affections]

Ok so I’ve seen you do dad Kaveh and Pantalone, but what if Cyno and/or Tighnari (they are a old married couple prove me wrong) adopted a (another) child? Have I nice day/night <3

fatherly duties.

summary. what is cyno like as a father?

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. dad!cyno & reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear! i went with cyno for this particular post simply because i haven't really touched on what cyno would be like as a parental or otherwise male familial figure in any of my posts yet. i've done tighnari and kaveh as dads, but have never really talked about what cyno would be like as a father c: i projected all of my father issues onto this post LMAOOO

i personally think that cyno would be a slightly more strict father than some of the other sumeru characters.

he's not strict to the point where his child would not be able to trust him. he does not create a child that feels the need to lie and hide things from him. archons know he would never forgive himself if the child he loved so dearly was afraid of him to the point where they felt the need to be dishonest with him.

no, he does not raise a child like that. rather, cyno raises a responsible child who's first thought upon getting into trouble would be "i need to tell my dad" instead of "my dad is going to be so mad at me."

sure, he'll scold them if they get into trouble, especially trouble that could have been avoided, but punishing them for it? that's generally out of the question. they've likely already suffered the natural consequences of their actions. they don't need any more punishment than that.

he refuses to parent his child with fear.

he does not want terrified obedience. he wants genuine trust and respect. scaring his child into obedience would not create the respect he seeks.

cyno's coworkers probably think he's the cruelest, most emotionally unavailable father to ever exist LMAO

contrary to popular belief, cyno is neither of those things.

he's the kind of dad to cherish the moment rather than obsess over how that moment might impact their future. some fathers get angry when their child is resting during times they could be doing work. cyno does not. some fathers think that enjoying time with their children is a waste because said children could be doing work in that time. cyno does not.

i like to think he would encourage his child to go to the akademiya, but wouldn't push it. their value as his kid is not determined by academics or academic ability. if they don't want to go? cool. if they want to go? also cool, he'll just encourage them to be very careful and tell them to make sure that their classes don't consume their entire life.

after all, an excess of desire is a dangerous beast that needs to be tamed. cyno knows very well that this also applies to academics.

he will not raise his kid to believe that the pursuit of knowledge is more important than them as a person or more important than their health—mental, physical, or otherwise.

oh yeah, also...

bro makes ALL the dad jokes. he has told every single terrible dad joke imaginable.

he thrives on seeing his kid smile, even if they're laughing at how awful his jokes are rather than because they actually find the jokes funny. he just loves their smile.

he totally would teach his kid to play tcg

^ imagine if they beat him effortlessly during their first time playing LMAO

i think cyno would sometimes take them along with him on his nighttime desert strolls. he's fond of the desert, the place he hailed from; he would very much like it if his child could appreciate its beauty as well.

he is very protective. that's a given, i think.

"you're not dating anyone until you're 30" kind of vibes HSKRJHBKJSS

he's only joking, believe it or not. he's fine with his kid dating, but as i mentioned, he is very protective; if their partner turns out to be an asshole...

well, cyno would not take that lightly.

don't fuck with his kid.

he does not tolerate that kind of thing. his child is probably the most precious thing in his life. as their father, their parent, it is his responsibility to protect them and shield them from the many dangers that teyvat has to offer.

and believe me, protect them he will.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸 #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #platonic cyno x reader

[thecampjuicebox]

What if Gale and Tav (romantically involved or interested in each other) got into an argument over if or not he should use the orb to destroy the elder brain and it leads to this exchange:

Gale: If I must use the orb to keep this world safe, then so be it; I'll die to keep you safe.

Tav: *no longer able to keep their tears hidden* I don't want someone who will die for me! *clutches Gale to themself as if afraid that he'll disappear if they let go* I want someone who will live for me. Please...

I've been itching for some more Mr. Dekarios content eeeeeeee this is gonna hurt so GOOD

Someone To Live For

Pairing: Gale x Tav(gn)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

POV: 3rd Person

Warnings: Angst, talk of death, lots of crying, fluff, game spoilers

Dinner around the fire was awfully quiet that night. The only sounds that broke the somber silence being the crackle of flames against wood, soft chewing, and silverware clinking against dented silver plates. The troubling news thrust upon the group just a few hours prior weighed heavy on each companion's heart, especially Gale's. His mentor and trusted friend, Elminster, paid an unexpected visit to camp. Told Gale of an opportunity to earn Mystra's forgiveness. His words were soft, almost a whisper. "I'm here on behalf of Mystra. The message and the charge I bring you are hers." Tav could feel the guilt bubble up in Elminster's voice in that moment. A sadness they'd never felt before. This had to be bad. "You know where you went wrong, Gale. I trust you've told your fellow traveler here the nature of your ills." Gale shifted in an uneasy manner, tossing his weight from one foot to the other nervously. "I.. Can't say that so far I've volunteered the entire truth."

Tav's stomach sank. Little beads of sweat bubbled up on their forehead and in their eyebrows, threatening to drip into their already burning eyes. "What's going on here?" Tav questioned meekly, their fingers and bottom lip trembling. "Gale?" No response. Just a lowering of Elminster's eyes. "You two have much to discuss after I have taken my leave." He paused his words with a heavy sigh before continuing on. "In short, Gale - through his own doing - has become a living explosive that could wipe from this world this very gathering, and much more besides. For his folly, Mystra forsook him, but now she has decreed he is to be given a chance of redemption." Another small sigh. Tav's eyes shifted from the ancient wizard to Gale, curiosity sizzling in the back of their throat. Gale had briefly explained his dealings with Mystra. Talked of the Netherese orb nestled in his chest, just beside his ever beating heart, and how it needed to consume magic to remain sated. Gale's eyes locked onto Elminster with surprise.

"Mystra would consider.. Forgiveness?" His tone wavered as he leaned toward Elminster, eyebrows raising. The wizard closed his eyes for a moment and spoke softly "She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness. Mystra is aware of the misadventures that have befallen you both. She knows of your strife with the Absolute." Tav couldn't hold back any longer. So many questions buzzed around in their skull like an angry bee's nest. "If the goddess is aware of our situation, why are we facing these threats alone?" The ancient wizard nodded at Tav's question and placed a kind hand on their shoulder. "The very purpose of my presence - in a roundabout sort of way. You must know that the Absolute is more dangerous than you can possibly conceive." An irritated Tav crossed their arms over their chest and huffed. "Yeah, no shit." Gale reaches out to slap their shoulder with the back of his hand and they shot him a look sharp as daggers. It's his fault they were in this mess in the first place. It's his fault Tav feels like they, themselves, could explode at any moment.

Elminster continued, his voice lowering once more. "That is why I have come here to charge you, Gale, with its destruction. it is Mystra's belief that only you can." More questions filled the space behind Tav's eyes. The tadpole wriggled in irritation at mention of the Absolute and Tav winced. "Gale alone? How so?" A question Tav would grow to regret. Gale's lids lowered and his gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, lifting back up to meet Elminster. "The orb.." he muttered. "Precisely." Elminster turned to Tav, eyebrows knitting together at their obvious disdain for the current conversation. One hand lifted to stroke the end of his wiry beard before turning back to Gale. "Mystra has granted me the power to stop the clock, as it were, on the orb's rush to overpower you. Instead, you will be able to unleash it's lethal combustion at will." Fear rose in Tav's chest, their heart thumping at what felt like a dangerous pace. A hand flew out to find Gale's.

"You must find the Heart of the Absolute, whatever that may be, and use yourself as the catalyst that will burn it from this world." Tears stung in Tav's eyes and they wiped them with the back of their right hand, the other still clutching Gale's tightly. In a burst of confidence, Tav raised their voice at the ancient wizard, spittle spraying involuntarily from their lips. "That's monstrous! You're tasking him to kill himself!" Gale sighed quietly and gave Tav's hand a gentle squeeze. "He's not.. But it seems that Mystra is." His face twisted into a scowl, jaw clenching and unclenching between breaths. Tav wanted to cry in that very instant. To scream, grab Elminster by the shoulders and shake the gold from his pockets and the brain in his skull. How could he say such words so plainly? Surely it pained him as much as it pained Tav. Not to mention Gale.. Poor, sweet Gale.

Elminster's eyes fell to the ground and his arms came up to embrace his own torso, holding that position for a moment before reaching for Gale's free hand. He took it in his, squeezing it in a way a father would squeeze the hand of his son with reassurance. "It brings me no pleasure saying this, my friend, but such is Mystra's will. Yours must be the sacrifice that will undo the Absolute. And for your sacrifice, you will be redeemed - such is Mystra's promise." He shakes his head slowly. "With that, I have said my sorry piece, and need only to bestow unto thee the charm I was bid." Tav took a step back from the two wizards, fingers fumbling with each other to keep themselves busy as they watched. Elminster's hand raised into the air, a flurry of purple weave fluttering from his fingertips as he spoke the words "My'Nahastra Mystra'Ryl. E'Deelion Thras'Anas'Tthra." Gale winced as the orb marking on his chest glowed and sizzled, his head turning to the side and eyes squeezing shut at the strange sensations.

"It is done. Both charge and charm have been committed into your care." The ancient wizard's words directed at Tav now, his finger pointing toward Gale as he spoke. "To you, I commit into care Gale himself. I count on you to shepherd him well on this strangest of journeys." Through tears, Tav simply nodded. They wiped their eyes with their sleeve and turned to leave the scene before they lost their composure completely, boots shuffling against the dirt and stone of the campsite. Still, Elminster spoke. His words a bit louder to make sure Tav could still hear him, even though they were almost out of sight now. "Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods obtain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. Farewell, my friend." With a puff of dark smoke, Elminster disappeared into the afternoon air as quickly as he had arrived. Gale sighed and palmed his eyes for a moment to clear the threat of tears, mumbling quietly to himself. "Farewell, Elminster. I'm glad she chose you."

Tav sat themselves on a nearby rock, hands covering their now wet eyes. They sobbed and cursed into the air, tears hot like lava streaming down their warm cheeks. How could Gale agree to such a disastrous fate? They despised Mystra for such a request. Why Gale even sought forgiveness from the baneful goddess in the first place, Tav couldn't understand. Why beg for any attention from the wretch, especially after all she'd put him through? Cast him out, stripped him of his position of her chosen, and now had the audacity to preposition him to blow himself up for her forgiveness. Bile burned in the back of their throat at the mere thought. There must be another way. A gentle hand rested on Tav's shoulder and they gasped in surprise, quickly wiping the remaining tears from their cheeks before looking up at the figure in front of them. Gale stood there, lips curved into a frown. "I'm sorry.."

...

Weeks passed now, Tav and Gale growing closer and closer each day they traveled together. The immanent threat of the orb still lingers in the back of Tav's mind. How they'll stop Gale from needing to use it in any circumstance. The shadow curse poses a new threat to their wellbeing now, and with each step closer to Moonrise, Tav can feel the impending doom grow near. With a deep sigh, they settle into their newly acquired spot in Gale's tent, legs outstretched and crossed in a relaxed position after such a long day. Gale sits to their right, nose deep in a tome he'd picked up at the Last Light Inn. An interesting read about the history and making of honey mead. Tav rests their tired head against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering as a toe-curling yawn forces its way in and out of their lungs. Gentle fingers tap a random rhythm against Tav's thigh and Gale sets his book down to encircle his lover in his arms tightly, his nose buried into the soft locks of hair. He inhales deeply. Their scent invades his nose and he exhales happily.

"Has your plan.. Changed at all?" Tav mumbles, eyes opening now to watch as Gale shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Their question perplexes him. "My plan?" he asks, adjusting their position so Tav is sat on his lap now. Sweet fingers brush a strand of deep brown hair from Gale's eyes. "To use the Orb, my love." Tav sighs. A twisting feeling in their gut tells them they may already have their answer as Gale scrunches his nose and tightens his grip on Tav's hips. Near bruising fingers knead at the flesh there and Tav places their hands on his stubbly cheeks, forcing him to look them in the eyes. "Gale.. Answer me." The wizard blinks at his lover for a moment, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He can't speak. Can't muster the courage to tell them the truth that he does, in fact, intend to continue with the plan to use the orb. With a frown, Tav presses their forehead to Gale's, bottom lip quivering. "Please tell me it isn't true.. Please.." their voice cracks as tears threaten their eyes.

"I can't lie to you." Gale finally speaks. Large hands rub soothing circles at the small of Tav's back. A hint of anger bites at Tav's thoughts, evolving into pure rage in a matter of seconds. They yank away from Gale, standing and quickly storming out of the tent and into the cold night air. Gale blinks slowly at the sudden change of attitude and shuffles to his own feet. "Tav, come back. Let's talk about this." he calls, shoving the tent flaps open and squinting his eyes into the darkness. The air is bitterly cold. A heavy shiver rattles Gale's spine as he steps out and toward their trembling partner. Tav stands in front of the pile of smoldering wood in the middle of the circle of tents, arms crossed, head resting against their own shoulder as they mull over their words. They roll their tongue behind their teeth and turn to the wizard, face red. "Talk about what, Gale? Talk about your willingness to just.. To just.. Explode?!" Gale is taken aback by the venom in their voice and he raises an eyebrow, throwing his hands up into the air in frustration.

"You wanna talk about your willingness to leave me?" Tav's voice breaks and Gale's heart goes along with it. The metaphorical steam billowing from his ears and nostrils settles and he reaches for Tav's body, Tav swatting reluctantly as his hands as the take short steps away from him. "Tav, please.." he begs. His own resolve falters as Tav continues to back away from him into the dark. The heavy scent of burning wood and smoke assaults his nostrils as he feels around in the dark for Tav's figure, stumbling over a log and toppling into a rigid body with a thud. The air falls still as they stand for a moment, waiting for each other to speak. Finally Gale breaks and he reaches for Tav's cold fingers, intertwining them with his. He gives them a gentle tug toward his warm body, encircling them in the tightest embrace he can muster. "Speak to me..". he mumbles into their pointed ear, breath steaming in the frigid air.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Tav asks again as they nuzzle their face into Gale's chest, the velvet of his robe comforting and soft against their cheeks. A hand reaches up to smooth down Tav's messy hair as Gale ponders his next words carefully. Sure his true intentions would fall on deaf ears right now. He's in love with Tav. He'd do anything to keep them safe. To make sure they make it out of this alive. His heart thumps in his chest, blood near boiling with anxiety as he places his hands on Tav's shoulders and tugs them away from him, forcing eye contact. "You know that.. I love you, right?' Tav's stomach drops. They nod slowly, eyebrows knitting together tightly as their bottom lip quivers. "Of course I do.." Oh gods, here it comes. Heat rises in their throat and they swallow the lump harshly. Gale inhales deeply through his nose as he prepares his words, tugging Tav close to him again to avoid having to look them in the eye. He can't bear to watch them cry.

"If I must use the orb to keep this world safe, then so be it; I'll die to protect you." The damn breaks, tears cascading down Tav's cheeks in an uncontrollable stream of salty waterfalls. Their grip on Gale tightens now, fingers grasping at the back of his robes as if he'd vanish in their arms in that very instant. Their voice cracks and trembles through their sobs, heart skipping in their chest. "I don't want someone who will die for me!" their voice raises to a strained yell. Fists raise from around Gale's waist and to his chest, pounding weakly against it with saddened rage. Gale's eyes fall closed, a tear of his own trickling down his cheek and into his beard. His hands snap up to grasp at Tav's wrists swiftly stopping their, albeit weak, assault on his ribs. Their eyes meet his and they finally fall apart, knees buckling beneath them as they force out their next words. "I want someone who will live for me.."

Gale kneels down, face nuzzling lovingly into Tav's stomach, his hands resting on either side of their thighs. With a heavy sigh, Tav tangles their fingers in the wizard's hair, sniffling and blinking tears away from their long lashes. Gentle fingers rub soothing circles into where they lie and Gale speaks softly, voice partially muffled by the way his forehead rests on Tav's pelvis now.

"I'd die and live a thousand times if it meant eternity by your side."

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #fic request

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

omg you write for Nikolai too?? could you do a part 2 to Better Late Than Never - i love the idea!!

Sure can do, Nikolai is my love. Tolya content is because I love my bestie and apparently the fandom as a whole is deprived of Tolya content which is unacceptable honestly. But yeah thought my username might give away the Nikolai enthusiasm, and I'm more than happy to write content for him, he plagues my every waking thought and honestly I'm not mad about it.

Part 1

Better Late Than Never Part 2 - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Vasily. No Beta/Proof Reading.

All Nikolai could do was think about you, about his brother and about all the ways he wanted to bring a stop to everything.

The thoughts consumed his every waking moment, his conscious thoughts being entirely clouded by you. Your laugh. Your smile. The way you had looked at him the night he found out about your engagement, that pleading look in your eyes, that wishing he could do something, anything to fix it. You had given him that look once before, before he left. When you'd begged him to stay without saying a single word about him leaving.

He had left anyway, and a day had not passed by when he had not thought of how sad you were to see him go. He had often thought about returning, and what it would be like to see you again. He had never in those worst thoughts considered that he would return to you stuck and so resigned to it.

It's not like you hadn't considered your options, you'd considered just leaving Ravka, which you admitted was a bit of an extreme method for getting out of an engagement, but this was to Vasily Lantsov, First Prince of Ravka, destined to be King of Ravka, and you took no joy in the prospect of being his Queen.

It was late when you heard the knock on your bedroom door, you'd been moved in months prior to the engagement, it was a matter of your familys relationship with the crown and the manner in which of the countries war. Your father needed so often at council meetings you had been relocated for convenience, which hindsight let you wonder if that had not just been an excuse on Vasily's part to get you close.

He knew you hated him, you'd never been good at hiding it, and he adored just how much you disliked him, he treated it like a game. It only made you hate him more.

You opened the door and of all the people you'd expected to be at your door, Nikolai had not made the list. And yet, it was his deep eyes, and his soft, sleep tousled hair that you laid eyes on. His rob hung loosely tied, the fabric not held close across his chest, he was showing far too much skin to just be walking around the halls and you both knew it.

"Nikolai," you grabbed his hand and pulled him inside your room without thinking. You leaned quickly on the door until it closed and stared at Nikolai, who tried to look like he had a good excuse for the intrusion but you both knew he did not. Not with that look on his face, you knew it better than most of his looks, this was he was causing trouble, for him, for you, for both of you, was anyone's guess, and he couldn't find it in himself to be sorry about it. "What are you doing here?"

"You just pulled me inside your bedroom in the dark of night, and you're asking me about my intentions," he teased you, he should know better but he doesnt, "people will talk."

"Nikolai," you mumbled.

"I have been thinking about your situation," Nikolai said and for a moment you pondered if maybe he had been drinking, but no, this was something else. "And I've been trying to think of how I could fix this."

"Fix it?" You laughed, and it was more bitter than you intended.

"Yes," the softness in his face made you want to grab his face and shake sense into him, or kiss him but those feelings were like old friends to you and you would not let them shake you.

"Oh Kolya," you sighed, and gave him the softest smile you were capable of mustering. "You have to live up to your name, don't you?"

"Saint of Sailors," he tried, desperate for you not to say it.

"Can't you see I am a lost cause?" you asked. He didn't look at you then, unable to handle the look he knew he would find in your eyes.

"I will not believe you are a lost cause," he says, "I cannot believe that."

"Then you can believe in me for the both of us."

He stepped close and you moved to step back but were quickly reminded of the door you leant against. You couldn't let him be close to you, not after all this time. Not like this. Not because he felt guilty for never noticing. Not because he felt guilty for leaving. Not because of Vasily. Not because Nikolai thought he owed you something.

Not because you are engaged to his brother.

"What if I took you away?" He asked. You would be sure he was drunk now if he wasn't holding your gaze so adamantly, his voice so serious and steady. His eyes bored right into you.

"Nikolai, my life is here," your voice deflated, given in.

"What life do you get to have with my brother?" He asked.

"A frustrating one, and I do not want it but it is mine," you argued. "What choice do I have?"

"I could not stay before," he said, and looked away from you, his shoulders lowered like he was finally admitting to a long awaited confession. "But I should not have left you."

"What did I have to offer Sturmhond," the words fell from your lips and Nikolai saw in plain view just how much you knew and understood. Exactly how much you'd always seen him, how much none of the other things had mattered. How much he hadn't noticed in all those years felt like drowning.

He regrets his response before he fully made it but the words came out of him and they felt like knives, "What did I have to offer you, as the royal spare to the throne?"

There was anger in your eyes and he saw it. White, glaring anger. "None of that mattered to me, you knew that, it was never about-"

"I know," he stopped you. "I'm sorry, I am sorry for all of it, for leaving, for not taking you with me, for letting Vasily ever set eyes on you, for not coming back sooner, for not realising sooner. For all of it."

"Nikolai I spent our entire youth hoping, that maybe one day you'd wake up and you'd see it, all of it, but that was stories, and this isn't those stories, you cannot rescue me from this, not without..." you stopped, you knew you were just as much a pawn in Vasily's game to anger his brother as you were a prize in your own right to him. You knew all the things that Vasily might do or say to bring Nikolai down if he dared to try and interfere. Vasily's play was this slow suffering, this hope of inflicting quiet, longing and regretful suffering on his brother. His brother who had never done anything to harm him except be a better man than Vasily was capable of being. "I do not like to think of what he would do to you Kolya," Nikolai watched your movements, the way you struggled with your words. The idea of his pain, and what he might lose was more painful to you than your own suffering and Nikolai understood it with perfect mirrorlike reflectance, because he felt the same.

"What if you married me?" He asked. You laughed. You couldn't help it.

"Swap one prince for another, on what count, Vasily would sooner see me hanged for dishonour than allow that," you argued.

"Not as a Prince then."

"As Sturmhond?"

"No... well... yes. But no, not as someone else, not as a Prince who never had a shot at being King, not as the person I pretended to be to get away from a life felt could not serve me or my country, but just as me, Nikolai, not a Lantsov or a Privateer, not a Prince or a facade. But as me," he said. Saints you'd wanted that, of course you wanted that. It's all you'd wanted for so long but never allowed yourself to think you could have.

"The Crown-"

"I'll renounce my right to the throne."

"You wouldn't," your tone was far too serious, you looked far too stern that Nikolai couldn't help but laugh.

"I love Ravka, it's my country and I would live and die for it, but I cannot serve Ravka's best intentions walking around this place with no real sway and no chance to make a difference. But I will not leave without you again, and I will not let you fall into a life that we both know you'd rather die than live in. Especially if one of the reasons you're doing it is to protect me from the same slander and rumours Vasily has taunted me with my entire life." He steps closer again and you don't try to move away. "So please, let me take you away."

"You know Kolya, I have waited my whole life for you to ask me that," you admitted.

"Is that a yes?"

"I do not care to be a Lantsov, Nikolai, I only care to be yours."

Tagging Those Who Asked About Part2: @xceafh , @marchingicenotes7 , @goldenpoison , @number-0-iz , @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x y/n #sturmhond #vasily lantsov

[devsgames]

Dragon's Dogma Primer + Tips

I've been spending tons of time with Dragon's Dogma 2. I loved the first game and was shocked they chose to make a sequel. Legitimately Dragon's Dogma is like, the only franchise that actually has the power to make me genuinely enjoy video games again like when I was a kid.

I also noticed that a lot of people new to the franchise have picked it up this time around and are bumping their heads against it, which is great! Now I'll actually have people to talk to about Dragon's Dogma :')

I wanted to write a little primer and 'beginners tips' to help people learn how to approach the series. Here's some pointers:

Dragon's Dogma gets a lot of comparisons to Dark Souls. I wouldn't say it's because it's a hard game, but it does expect you to approach it on its own terms and won't make many concessions to you if you try to fight it.

DD is a management game masquerading as an open-world RPG. What it expects of you is to move slowly and take your time. It wants you to plan your journey, anticipate challenges, pace yourself, and prepare accordingly. You'll find much less friction if you keep this in mind.

'Fast Travel' as a concept is hard to come by in DD, and you will find yourself walking most places. The ability to instantly teleport yourself anywhere is limited to Ferrystones and Portcrystals, which are both in very limited supply. DD2 has Oxcarts from major settlements, but these are also imperfect by-design as they are time-dependent and prone to attacks, which may leave you stranded. Remember: DD is by and large about preparation and long journeys. Try shortening your routes by exploring for shortcuts, or treating every trip like an opportunity to explore a new area on the way.

DD LOVES rare and consumable items. Some of the best and most useful items in the game are often unique and can only be used once or in a limited capacity. This helps make the items feel more exclusive, while also encouraging you to be doubly sure of your intention before using them. If an item seems like it could be rare, it probably is.

Explore everywhere. In my opinion, DD's level design is unmatched in terms of open-world games. There are things hidden absolutely everywhere in every nook and cranny. If you comb every location you will constantly find new things, and it goes out of its way to ensure exploration is rewarded. I don't think any video game does open world exploration quite as good as DD does.

The quest design is cryptic (and often questionable) and likes to challenge you. The game will say 'find [x] item' and not tell you where it is. Sometimes pawn knowledge may help, but expect to find it through exploring the world and digging around hidden corners. While some quests let you know where to go, don't always expect it.

Some side quests are gated by story progression and will become locked off when advancing the story. Make sure you finish all your side quests before advancing the story!

Don't jump in and accept every quest you see, as some quests are timed and some quests require a lot of preparation. For example, in DD1 escort quests involved escorting someone across the whole world. Read a quest carefully and know the terms before accepting it.

Timed quests are a thing, and usually act as a way to keep you on your toes and force you to prove your ability to adapt to changing circumstances. Expect to receive timed quests at any given moment, and adapt accordingly. They can be stressful.

New Game + is a major part of the game in the DD franchise. Things will happen in the game that will block you out of content. You will fail quests, make choices that block future content, consume items you didn't mean to, etc. NG+ is where you get to experience these all again, so don't worry too much if you weren't able to do it the first time around.

Per above, I personally avoid Googling stuff about the game or quests before doing them. Usually there are things you are going to miss, and reading about them sometimes feels worse than just discovering them later does!

There are two types of saves: "Hard" saves which occur when sleeping at an inn, and "Soft" saves done manually or via auto-save. Sometimes it's prudent to rest at an Inn before attempting major quest beats in case something goes awry.

DD loves consequences for your actions, and while every NPC in the game can be killed it is rarely ever worth it. In DD1, killing an NPC means they're gone forever, which can lock you out of new quests or progression and rewards related to that character. In DD2 there are resources costs to resurrect someone, which mitigates it slightly but still makes it not worth it.

'Forgeries' are a very cool mechanic that allow you to pay an NPC to make a copy of an item. The copy usually just looks identical, but this often allows you to keep quest items for yourself and turn in the forgery to a quest NPC. As with anything else, sometimes this may have future consequences!

Without spoiling anything: DD loves to radically change the open world. Watch out!

The Vocation system is worth exploring. For a cheap fee you can try out every class and find what works best for you, so if you start as a Fighter and hate being a Fighter you're never locked into it.

Levelling a vocation allows you to unlock passive abilities called 'augments' that can carry over between classes, and can help build your favourite vocation further.

Some Vocations have mobility skills (Levitate and Double-Vault). If you like exploring everywhere these are absolutely essential because they let you reach places some classes cannot.

Combining materials makes new items. Experiment to find new recipes.

In DD1 combining items often makes them heavier. In DD2 combining items often makes them lighter.

Every character in the game has an 'affinity' towards you, that changes with how you treat them. This has implications.

Anyway I'm just glad people are finally playing and talking about the franchise. Hope you have fun! :)

#dragon's dogma #dragon's dogma 2 #dd #dd2 #video game #video games #blog #tips #capcom #thoughts

[genericpuff]

I've come to the stunning realization-

-that Lore Olympus is basically to the webtoons industry what Youtube Kids is to Youtube.

And I'm not talking about the general "Youtube Kids" label, I'm talking about those videos - Elsagate, Johny Johny, Cocomelon, Mickey Mouse tattooing Spongebob or whatever other weird example you can think of - which are explicitly designed to game the algorithm, turn views into money, and most of all, gain and keep the attention of the one demographic that won't question what they're consuming - children.

!!!!THIS POST HAS FAST PASS SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

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I mean, this is undoubtedly just a tinfoil hat theory, but think about it:

Bright oversaturated colors that are attention-grabbing.

Meme faces and 'lol rAnDoM' humor even when it doesn't suit the situation at all.

Art that's all around ugly and cheap on a technical level but still stands out due to its color design and prioritized advertising.

Vapid surface level scene-to-scene writing that doesn't connect or have any meaning in any coherent way.

One-dimensional projection characters who are easy to manipulate and sway for audience sympathy or anger even if those opinions change on a dime based on actions in the moment.

Cliffhangers that are less like true cliffhangers and more like clickbait. Episodes nowadays tend to be filled with drawn out plotlines, vague hints that can be applied to just about any school of thought, and non-sequitur memes to fill the time until they can hook the reader with another cliffhanger to keep them coming back next week.

Coin prices have gone up but episode length, substance, and quality have noticeably gone down. Even if they reach the same panel count they usually have, dialogue is minimal and pacing is brutally inconsistent to the point that plot progression is often non-existent.

Banner ads that run constantly, often in the first or second (or both) slots, with push notifications and pop-up ads also becoming more frequent whether you're subscribed to the comic or not.

And underneath ALL of that, we've got blatant objectifying and sexualization of female characters regardless of context, misogyny that claims to be progressive, racist undertones, borderline fetish content that constantly toes the Terms of Services line, normalization of problematic/toxic relationship dynamics, a creator who's more interested in 'getting back' at critics than writing an actual story, and underlying messaging both from the characters' and the creator's behavior that encourage witch-hunting, rejection of accountability, and blind devotion.

All this is essentially why I've given up consuming LO entirely, beyond just on a critical level as of late. There was a time long ago when I stuck around in the hopes it was going to get better, that maybe it was just going through a "rough patch" as some stories do. After that I stuck around because I wanted to see how it could possibly pull off its ending. And then after that, I simply stuck around for the laughs and community banter. But now I don't even find it funny anymore, the punchline of how bad it is has gotten incredibly old. And at this rate, as much as we'd like to believe it's going to end in its third season as it's been mentioned in the past, we also were told it was going to end between 100-200 episodes prior to that - the way it's going, I can't even stick around "for the ending" because LO is going to be around for as long as WT tries to milk it, despite it no longer having a heartbeat.

As much as I've loved talking shit about this comic and it's undoubtedly the main reason so many of you followed me here in the first place, I'm not going to lock myself in some kind of purgatory hell just to be proven what I already know is going to happen - either the comic continues on forever, doomed to be a lifeless mascot for the zombie corporation that is WT, or RS eats shit while trying to stick the landing with a plane that has no functional parts.

There's a quote from Caddicarus that I couldn't help but think of as I typed this up, from his nearly-decade-old review of Dalmations 3 (oh god, it's nearly been a decade since that video came out what the actual fuck-)

"And this is where I officially lost all fucking care. I realized it wasn't going to end anytime soon. It's one of those rare instances where the novelty of how awful everything is actually gets really tiresome and unfunny." - Caddicarus

#this isn't me saying i'm not gonna talk about LO ever again #i'm just explaining why i haven't engaged with it directly for weeks now and why my LO essays are less often nowadays #i'm even slowly phasing out of the critical community for it #it's just exhausting #and bad for my mental health #i'd rather put my efforts into something positive like rekindled than continue to give this propaganda on a stick more attention #i still love all the pals in the community but it's more to do with the content itself that's being discussed than the people discussing it #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #lo critical