#the amount of times I have gotten: I wish I could draw like you!

[strandbuckley]

Your Home's Really Only a Town You're Just a Guest In

2.5k words | Logan Sargeant/Oscar Piastri | The Miami GP is over in a matter of seconds for Logan. Losing it all at his home race makes him realize a few things about what home and family truly mean

He was spinning before he’d even registered the impact. He barely had the brain capacity to cross his arms over his chest as his car went careening off the track. The gravel trap rattled his teeth and he tasted blood as he bit down on his tongue. He braced himself for impact just before his car hit the barrier, sending a shockwave down his spine, making his toes tingle and his head snap forward, despite the brace holding him in. God, that fucking hurt.

He’d never get used to this feeling. One might think he had, considering the amount of times he’d been in this position over the last year. He pushed down the self-deprecating thoughts for now, only focusing on moving his hands enough to press the radio button and answer his engineer’s desperate pleas to know if he was alright. 

“Oh mate,” he groaned, unable to think of a more intelligent response.

“Not your fault. Not your fault.”

“Ugh. I bit my fucking tongue.”

He knew SkySports would be angry at him for having to spend money on the bleep effect but he didn’t have it in him to care at the moment.

“You okay? Are you okay?”

He huffed into his helmet, trying to catch his breath, “I- yes. I think so. Did I do something wrong?”

He couldn’t think of anything he could have done, he couldn’t even see Kevin in his mirrors. The first look he’d gotten at the car had been blurry at best as he spun his way off the track and the Haas kept on racing. 

“No I don’t think you did. I’ll look at the review. Can you get out of the car on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

He began undoing his seat belts as the marshals moved toward his car. One gave him a helping hand and he stepped over the halo, hopping from the cockpit, the crunch of gravel under his boots. This was it. His home race was completely undone in less than 30 seconds. And he’d been doing alright too. He’d been on pace with Alex, he’d placed higher in the sprint. For the first time since Australia he’d felt a little glimmer of confidence. However, this sport and everyone around him seemed determined to put out any fire he had as quickly and as harshly as possible. 

The marshal led him to the evacuation car and he slid into the backseat, placing his helmet next to him. He wished the ride to the Williams garage was longer than a few minutes. He wished he had more time to come up with something better to say to his team other than a weak apology for fucking up another car. His only saving grace was that his parents weren’t in the paddock. Instead they were probably shaking their heads from their couch, turning off the tv and moving on to do something else since their son had failed so spectacularly, yet again. 

As he stepped out of the car into the oppressive Miami heat, he found himself wishing for England. So rarely did he miss the gray skies, but today they would match his mood much better than the inescapable Florida sunshine. He wished for the milder temperatures of Monaco, where the sun didn’t feel like quite as much of a mockery. Where he could hide in Alex and Lily’s apartment and neither of them would push him to speak until he was ready. Where he could escape to Lando’s and play games with him and Oscar and Max Fewtrell until his throat was sore from yelling and he felt slightly human again. Where Max would grow tired of Lando complaining about him moping and invite him over for dinner. Where he could sit in his designated seat on the balcony (declared as such by a drawing featuring entirely too much glitter, made of course by Penelope) and drown his sorrows in cheap European beer. Where people actually cared about him, or at least pretended to. 

But no. He was trapped here, as if held down by the humidity that blanketed the entire state he had once called home. Now, he felt more like a guest. He knew that after this race was all said and done, he’d crawl back home to his parents’ house that bore no signs of their second son, save for a few pictures on the walls, relics of his karting and junior formula days. He was a guest in the place where he was raised.

A firm hand gripped his bicep as he was led into the garage, “Are you alright?”

Elias had practically materialized next to him and was leading him past all of the engineers and mechanics, their well wishes and promises of “There was nothing you could have done” nothing more than tv static as they made their way hastily toward his driver’s room. Elias unlocked the door and pushed Logan inside but didn’t follow.

“Take your time. Get cleaned up and settle down. Don’t come back out until you feel human again.”

“What if I never feel human again?” The vulnerability spilled from his lips in the worst case of word vomit he’d ever experienced. He didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping the words once they started flowing. 

“You will. I know it doesn’t feel like it and you don’t want to listen to my pep talk right now, so I’ll save that for Alex later. But you will feel human again Logan. You will come out on the other side, stronger and better because of everything you’ve been through.”

“Can you ask James if there’s still room on the flight back for me tomorrow?” he asked instead of acknowledging what his trainer had just said.

“I thought you were staying for a few days. You had plans to fish with Kyle and go to the hockey game.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, I do really want to take you out on the boat. I just don’t know how much longer I can be here before I suffocate.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get everything sorted with James. Just promise me that you’ll talk to your brother before we go. He’s worried about you.”

“Dalton is always worried about me.”

“He loves you. Don’t take it for granted.”

With that Elias slipped back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Logan sighed and laid back on the massage table, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the faint roar of engines in the distance. He wondered if Lando was still leading? Maybe one of them would finally have some good luck. He forced himself into a sitting position and leaned over to retrieve his phone from the front pocket of his backpack. He pulled up his brother’s contact and sent a message.

To Dalton: with mom and dad?

From Dalton: Yeah but I can leave. Need me?

To Dalton: yeah

From Dalton: Okay. Give me five

Logan counted in intervals of sixty until his phone began to buzz in his palm. Dalton always kept his promises.

“Hey little bro.”

“Are Mom and Dad around?”

“Nope. I went down to the dock. I figured you wanted this to be a private conversation.”

“Are they still watching the race?”

“Yeah. We’re all rooting for Lando’s first win. They aren’t mad at you Loges, there was nothing you could have done.”

“Yeah that time. What about all the others? They’re disappointed and you know it.”

“I know what they can be like Loges. Trust me, I know better than anyone. They want you to succeed but they don’t understand what the pressure does to you.”

“‘Pressure makes diamonds son’.”

Logan’s poor imitation of their father’s deep southern accent made Dalton chuckle. 

“Pressure makes dust. You can’t let them get to you bud. This is how they are about everything, it's how they always will be. You just have to prove them wrong.”

“They won’t give me a chance.”

“Mom and Dad? Or the team?”

“Both. Every time something starts to go well for me, Williams tears the rug out from under my feet. Mom and Dad will always side with them, especially Dad. Nothing is ever good enough, I don’t even know why I bother anymore. I love a sport that hates me and I’m a guest in my own fucking family. I don’t belong anywhere Dalton. I don’t belong in Europe, I don’t belong here, I should just fucking disappear and then everyone would be happier.”

“I wouldn’t. Kyle wouldn’t. Neither would Alex or Oscar or even fucking Lando. Loges, you’re so focused on everything that’s working against you, that you can’t acknowledge that there are people in your corner. Williams fans fucking love you, but all you care about is the keyboard warriors who think you should make your car levitate to avoid being hit. Fuck them. And fuck anyone who ever says you can’t do something. Fuck Mom and Dad. But don’t toss aside the people that want to help you. When was the last time you talked to Oscar about how you feel? Or are you just telling him that you’re fine and that none of this shit affects you? Because I know the truth, Loges. When are you gonna stop lying to yourself and playing tough guy and accept some help? Because until you start leaning on the people around you, you’re gonna keep crumbling. And I won’t be the one that’s left to pick up the pieces. Not again. I love you way too much to watch you destroy yourself because you’re stubborn.”

“I love you too.”

“Now what are you going to do?”

“Stop feeling sorry for myself.”

“And?”

“Go out tonight to celebrate Lando’s win. Then I’m gonna go back to England tomorrow with the team and work over data with Alex so we can find a way to fix this tractor of a fucking car.”

“Good. I’m proud of you little brother. Call me anytime, day or night. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon. But not until you’re ready.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

As he cleaned himself up and changed from his sweaty race suit to his usual team kit, he turned on the monitors to watch Lando win the race. He left the team (with permission from Gaetan) to run down to the pit lane and congratulate his friend. He found Oscar and Alex, leaning against the wall together, waiting for their turn in the media pen and joined them so he could fulfill his own duties to the press.

“Hey Osc,” he linked their pinkies together briefly in greeting, before pulling away. “Shame about your race.”

“Yeah, some people were just itching for penalties today,” Oscar rolled his eyes. “How are you doing? You seem surprisingly carefree.”

Alex regarded him with a raised brow, “You are suspiciously calm.”

“I talked to Dalton. I’m still annoyed about the crash but Kevin got what he deserved and there’s nothing else I can do. Other than comb through the data and try to figure out a way to make this God forsaken tractor go any faster.”

“I’m with you,” Alex agreed. “I already told Gaetan and James to book a conference room and stock the fridge with Monster because we’re gonna be there a while.”

Logan chuckled and bumped their shoulders together, “I’ll be there Monday.”

Alex raised his brow again, “I thought you were staying for a few more days?”

“I was going to. But, I need a change of scenery. And living in London has ruined me. I can’t handle the heat.”

Oscar gave him a look that said they’d talk about it later, but was called away by his press officer, “You’re coming out with us tonight. We’re celebrating Lando’s win!”

“I expected nothing less.”

*****

It was way too late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) when they finally made it back to the hotel Mclaren was staying in. He and Oscar had left the party a few minutes early, leaving Lando in Max’s capable hands. Elias had already retrieved his luggage from his parent’s place and had it brought to Oscar’s room. Once they were both showered and half asleep, Oscar finally asked what he’d been dying to all night.

“So what made you decide you want to leave early?”

“I talked to Dalton. And he made me realize that how I’ve been acting lately isn’t healthy. I’m tearing myself down to meet these unrealistic expectations my parents have set for me and I’m killing myself to try and prove myself to people who don’t actually care. I’ve been realizing lately that I feel like a guest here. Florida isn’t really home. I don’t really feel at home anywhere to be honest. Only with you, or Alex. Sometimes Lando and Max.”

“You know what my mom told me once? It was right after I left Australia for good and I was so homesick it hurt. And boarding school sucked and I was just about ready to give it all up and come home. But my mom told me that home isn’t really a place, it’s people. And family isn’t just the people who raised you. So I’d always be welcome at home with them, but I was also responsible for making my own home and my own family and that once I did that, I wouldn’t be so lonely. A few months after that, we became teammates. And I figured out pretty quickly what my mom meant. I know you’re proud of being from America, to be the first American in F1 in a long time. But that isn’t your whole identity, Loges. And Florida doesn’t have to be your home because you were born here. Your home can be in England with me, or Monaco with Max, Lando and Alex. You can consider both places home if you want because all of us are your family. We care about you so much baby, especially me. It has hurt so bad to see you struggle for so long. I just want you to realize you’re with so much outside of racing and outside of your hometown. You will never be a guest with me Logan, I hope you know that.”

“I do. And I’m starting to figure out this family thing. I just think it’s going to take some time. I have to really figure out where I belong in the world.”

“I know. And I’ll always be with you, there is nowhere you can go that I won’t follow.”

“I’m stuck with you forever huh?”

“You bet your ass you are. You’re stuck with Lando too because he’ll tag along just to be annoying. And Max because he has to supervise when I’m not around. And Alex, because he’s just along for the ride.”

Logan laughed and hugged Oscar close, “I think I’m okay with that.”

He stared at the ceiling as Oscar snored lightly next to him, waiting for sleep to come. So what if he felt like a guest in his home? He’d just make another.

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant fanfiction #loscar #oscar piastri #williams racing #williams f1 #formula 1 rpf #my works

[noras-dc-shenanigans]

Adoption | Learn

“So let me get this straight.”

Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.

“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”

If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.

“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”

A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.

After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,

“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”

… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.

Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.

Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.

So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.

But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.

At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.

The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.

‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’

Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.

Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.

#DPxDCFamilyWeek #Danny Felton #Batfamily #Danny’s drama was inherited #Danny is a little sh*t #you tell ‘em Danny!

[cursedhaglette]

Colleagues

You're been nothing but helpful to Magistrate Ancunin, working to advance your career by supporting his cases. Your crush on him has lasted almost as long as your time spent working together.

And then he decides he wants to show you just how grateful he is for all your thorough help.

Rating: E Word Count: 2.5k Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, squirting, cum swallowing, pre-canon

[ao3 link]

A/N: I don't know what magistrates do and not sure if I really care, but if fantasy judge/lawyer combo doesn't work for you then sorry!

“Madam, I have Magistrate Ancunin here to see you,” the voice of the office assistant reaches your ears before the door opens and the heavy hinges creak in that way you hate. The older human woman who assists with your paperwork and appointments allows in the familiar, handsome face. You nod your thanks and Vilna closes the door promptly, as she always does. 

“Magistrate,” you say in greeting, and he smirks as he approaches.  

“You always say that like it’s not your title as well,” he argues, the same comment the two of you make every time you have this exchange. 

You’ve been smitten with him for an almost pathetic amount of time, but while you’re still unsure whether his flirtations were just for fun or genuine, you held off on making any real move. Being rejected by one of your fellow magistrates, one of your senior colleagues that you’re so often tasked with assisting, would be far more humiliating than you’re willing to risk. 

“Do you have those case notes ready?” He asks, and the deep caress of his voice scatters your mind as you fumble for the information you’d collected for him. You remember you’d filed it away just last night, wanting to be sure it wasn’t mixed in with the other handful of cases you were either overseeing or assisting on.

“Sorry, yeah - it’s over here. I was working on it until late last night, but I think it should be more than enough to present your case.”

He doesn’t respond, so you move around your desk to where you filed the documents the evening prior.

“You really ought to make me work harder for this,” he smirks, and you watch every movement of his clever mouth as you turn to meet his gaze. “So much done, all for me? None of the other junior magistrates are quite as helpful and thorough as you are, darling.”

“I’m far too generous, I’m wholly aware,” you turn, noticing how much closer he’s gotten. How his body is nearly against yours, your back meeting the edge of your filing cabinet as you adjust, watching as he takes another step closer.

“You ought to be careful,” he whispers, and you think you might be able to smell cigar smoke and brandy on his clothing, his breath a puff of warm air against your skin as he draws ever closer, “associating with the ‘hanging judge’ might earn you a reputation an innocent thing like you might not like.”

“Maybe I’m not so innocent. I can handle myself,” you murmur, and mean it. You weren’t scared of his reputation, not when you wanted to make your own. Assisting him, making a name for yourself as you grew your career, it was all part of a plan. Falling for him was the only piece you hadn’t accounted for. “And maybe I like working with you.”

“I’m glad, because I like it as well,” he grins, “so tell me you’ll let me show you my thanks.”

“Astarion…” you whisper again, and your eyes can only focus on his lips. The way his tongue flicks to wet them, so full and perfect. Gods, you wish he would just break this tension so you could finally feel his hands around your body.

“Let me show you how grateful I am,” he says again and leans against you, dipping his head to whisper a gentle kiss along your neck, then another below your ear. “Let me show you how much I like working with you, Tav.”

“Is this a good idea?” You hate the question, hate that it could end the delicious warmth seeping into your core as his lips move lightly against your skin. But you have to know, have to be sure…

“Probably not,” he grunts but pulls away for long enough to look you in the eyes as he says, “but if you want this, then I don’t give a damn how good or bad an idea it is. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” you moan, and then his mouth is on yours and it’s like your prayers are finally answered. His mouth is warm and perfect, his tongue dancing against the seam of your lips until you open, eagerly, to welcome him in. He pushes you against the cabinet, your back digging into a drawer pull, but you don’t care as his hands move to cup your ass and lift you slightly, enough to angle your core against his. 

You can feel his hardness and it draws a desperate, gasping moan from you that he swallows with his kiss. He holds you firm, his grip likely strong enough to bruise. Have you noticed how strong he was before? You knew he was fit, but Gods, the way he holds you shows off how easy this is for him. He’s experienced, and you are too…but not like this. Not with someone you’ve wanted for ages, dreamt of kissing or laying with as you sign off on each individual document you’ve prepared for him over the last year.

“I’ve wanted you,” he growls as he shifts and gently sucks on your sensitive earlobe, “since I first laid eyes on you. Since you first walked into this office.”

“Really?” you gasp, and Astarion’s hands move to the buttons of your blouse, his mouth kissing along your collarbones. He pulls away for a moment, eyes scanning yours and you watch in delight as his gaze flickers to your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Then, he takes your hand, and moves it to the hardness pressed against you - guiding you to feel the full length of him, still taught and held within his fine, leather trousers but begging for release. 

“Do you feel this?” He asks, smiling as your blush deepens. You bite your lip and nod. “This is how desperately I’ve wanted you. How hard I’ve been trying to hold back from doing this every time I see you. But I can’t hold back any longer, not if you want me too.”

“I do,” you moan, and he’s on you again, his kisses somehow more desperate than before. But then he’s kneeling and -

“May I?” He looks up at you, both hands warming your thighs and you know what he wants, even if you’re shocked this is happening at all. You nod and his hands move to your waistband, tugging off your work trousers and undergarments in a single movement. 

You’re bare for him for a moment  before he nudges your legs apart and finally his fingers find your clit, gently pressing against your pleasure. Astarion looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, as you whimper at the touch - simultaneously feeling overwhelmed by the sudden caress and desperately needing more from him. 

“Put your foot on my shoulder,” he instructs, and you do without thought. The heat at your core, the way your want feels like a thrumming ache that grows with each second that goes by drives away any second guessing or nervousness you might feel. All you can think of is the way his hands caress your hips, your thighs, as he looks at you laid bare. “Gods, look at you. Soaked for me and so fucking beautiful.”

“Please,” you gasp, and he smirks but finally obliges you. His hands move to grip your ass and stars burst behind your eyes when he finally drags the flat of his tongue from your hole to clit. His mouth latches around her, sucking and licking in alteration as soaked, sloppy sounds begin to fill her small office. You’re being feasted on, and each groan with pleasure vibrates through you and adds to the building release he’s bringing you toward.

Astarion moves one hand from your ass and shifts his mouth only slightly, his tongue never leaving your swollen bud as he slides two fingers into your heat, immediately finding the soft spot inside you that has everything going white behind your eyes. 

“A-Astari-uhhhnnn,” your knees buckle as you cry his name, reaching for his hair and holding his mouth to you as the dam of your arousal bursts.

Pleasure floods you, and you soak him in the process, grinding against his face and coming around his fingers as your body thrashes in release. His ministrations continue, licking and fingering through the final clenches of your orgasm before he finally pulls away, his face slick with your arousal and release. 

“You taste fucking delicious,” he growls and stands, pulling you into another deep kiss so you can taste yourself on his lips. You moan into his mouth again and finally feel him tug free his cock, stiff and dripping with his own excitement. 

“Can I taste you?” 

“Not now, darling,” he growls and pulls you off the cabinet, his hands rough. “I’ve got to be inside you now, or I may go mad.”

He guides you to your desk, papers and files scattering in the wake of your desperate movements, banging your way around the office without letting his lips leave yours, his hands lingering at your sides, your hips, your breasts. 

Your ass meets the edge of the desk at the same moment his fingers find a nipple, pinching and twisting viciously, enough to have him groaning at the sound of your gasping cry. He kisses his way down your body again, his lips meeting your breasts and sucking gently before he moves lower, kissing down the planes of your stomach. 

Propping yourself on your elbows, you watch as he finally pulls away and lines his cock up with your slit. He rubs his head against your sensitive clit, wetting himself on your still soaking cunt and each rubbing slide feels better than the last. He’s so hard, the head of his beautiful, thick cock so soft, and it’s all for you. After so long, after so many late nights spent wishing you could have him all to yourself.

Your head hangs back as he begins to slide into you, the feeling overwhelming as your body stretches to accommodate him. He takes his time, his own eyes closing slowly as he adjusts in his own way, the feeling of your heat and slick enough to have him biting his lip in concentration. 

“Astarion,” you whine and your back arches as he moves forward another inch, “I can take it, I want it all, please - I need more, please, pleee-aahh -”

He fills you to the hilt, giving all of himself to you in one movement and you can only muster a deep, primal groan as he begins to set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips against yours. Each movement is practiced and perfect, managing to hit every spot inside you that begs for pressure.

“So ti-ight, mmmm,” he groans, picking up speed. He reaches between your legs, his thumb rubbing circles in time with each thrust. “Can you come for me again? Around me?”

You clench around him, feeling the tug behind your navel and the added moisture between your legs and then you’re coming, coming around him like your body knew to obey his ask with words alone. Your second undoing under his hands is somehow stronger than the first, your body convulsing like a woman possessed as you shatter again and again. 

“Good girl,” he grunts and sputters, “such a good…mmmmph…good girl, coming for me.”

You milk him with every slowing contraction of your body, tugging him deeper into you, and he stammers your name like the chants of monks in a chapel. You listen as he repeats it, over and over, as his breath hitches and his movements grow erratic, desperate and his own pleasure begins to build toward climax. 

He’s close, so close and you don’t have a tonic so you lean up and kiss him, his body slowing as his focus shifts to your mouth. This time his moan fills the space shared between you and the sound would buckle your knees were you standing. 

When you tug away, both of your breaths still ragged with pleasure, you whisper what you want, no - what you need. “Come in my mouth. Let me taste you that way.”

“Are you sure?” He grunts the question, leaning in for another languid kiss as he continues each deep, slow movement within you. You nod through the kiss, then move off the desk, to your knees. 

He’s coated in your slick, and flush with pleasure, each vein in his gorgeous length thrumming with need you can’t wait to slake. You roll him in with your hand, luxuriating in this hiss it earns you. 

You swirl your tongue around his head before sucking it into your mouth, groaning as you realize that you’re about to know how you taste in combination with him. 

“Gods,” he pants, “don’t stop, y-you feel…unbelievable.”

You smile and take him deeper, adjusting to his length for a few moments and then letting him fuck into your throat at the pace he needs to finally reach his peak. He bucks quickly, his eyes close as yours water, his length hitting the back of your throat.

You swallow as he quivers through his end, and then bob up and down once more before pulling away from him, your mouth popping as you release his head from your mouth. You lick him clean, any release you hadn’t caught already you wipe away with a warm tongue, feeling his eyes on you as you do. 

“Fucking hells,” he whispers, a hand reaching to stroke your cheek as you finally sit up, “that was…”

“Okay?”

“You delicious fool, that was the best head I can ever remember receiving,” and he folds himself over to reach where you still kneel before him, kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue into your mouth - tasting himself on your tongue. It’s salty and perfect, the taste a lingering reminder of the ecstasy you shared.

Astarion moves to dress quickly, as though suddenly reminded that it was the middle of the workday and you were both in an office, and you follow his lead. 

He straightens his coat, rubbing his palms down his shirt to even out the wrinkles left over from their earlier collision. He looks almost nervous, watching as you finish lacing up your shoes, then looking at the utter chaos left behind on the desk. 

“This won’t make things…uncomfortable between us? Will it?” You ask the question carefully, aware that it very well could change everything. Could ruin all that hard work. But Gods, it sure as hell felt worth it in the moment. 

“Oh lovely girl,” he smiled, finally meeting your eye again with that perfect smile, “if anything, this just got a lot better. In fact, I could imagine you and I will be very, very good colleagues.”

“Well then,” you stand and walk toward him, taking his coat in both hands and tugging the handsome elf flush against you once more, “I suppose the cases we work on together are going to be a lot more fun from here on out.”

“Oh my dear,” he kisses you quickly, a gorgeous, devious grin lighting his face as he pulls away, “I couldn’t agree more.”

#bg3 fanfic #astarion fic #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #hagfics

[genshin-scenarios]

pacts and their marks: demon au

Summary: Where you've accidentally summoned a demon (you’re an exorcist) and now you’re in a pact with them! They’re now your assistant of sorts, some more willing than others…

Characters: Venti, Xiao, Lyney, Wanderer

Content warnings: minor injury and blood (Xiao), mentions of fire and smoke with allusions to death (Lyney), mentions of death and human experimentation (Wanderer)

Generally speaking, Venti likes to float rather than walk if he can help it; he’s gotten the habit of flitting around your form often, hanging off your shoulders and clinging on to you absentmindedly. You might be more annoyed about it if it wasn’t for his voice as he greets you, light and deceptively soothing.

Venti’s music hypnotizes the heart. Whether it be singing or another instrument, he has the ability to convince any being, living or dead, to do as he wishes—so long as his melody isn’t overpowered by their strength of mind.

Honestly, sometimes you wonder if he’s testing the safety-precautions of your pact. You’re invulnerable to his powers thanks to it, but with the way he endears himself towards you, you wonder if his true motive was to steal your affections in another way.

He’s one of the rare demons that blend in with people well. You found him as a spirit living inside an antique lyre; while Venti says he was sleeping there for a lack of anything to do, you have a feeling that there’s another story behind his attachment to the item. He often uses it in battle—its strings glowing with an old magic that matches the shade of his eyes and braids.

You sometimes forget how deadly it is to lose one’s mind in the heat of a fight, when Venti’s lying next to you on the bed as he scrolls on your spare phone. Noticing your attention he peers up, twirling his hair—currently unbraided—between his fingers.

For how much he teases you about praising him, Venti’s never mentioned anything about playing his music to get rid of your nightmares. One time, when you were especially sick, you recall him singing a song in a language you didn’t recognise.

It was hauntingly beautiful, and so was the way he brushed his hand through your hair, too gentle compared to the demons you had to hunt down.

Xiao’s most unique feature had to be his wings; the same dark shade as his hair, dipped in streaks of teal.

During a quiet night, he’d told you they used to be white as snow and gilded with gold. But an angel that kills to protect is destined to fall from the clouds, shrouded by the ghosts of those they have slain.

You know there are others like him, but he says they’ve succumbed to corrosion. He is the only one left, and is one of the only demons you’ve met that hunt down their own species. In an effort to save him from his own corrosion, you’d made a pact with Xiao to link your life forces. 

Despite how he’d told you to leave him, his spirit still reached for yours—towards any form of light and warmth it could meet. Xiao still finds the marks of the pact distasteful, however, always glancing at the dark patterns now etched into your skin. You tell him it’s more reassuring than not, now that you can summon him with a call of his name.

If there’s one word to describe his powers, it’s destructive in every form of the word. Xiao leaves the battlefield entirely demolished after a fight. Sometimes he struggles to control his strength, but it’s been getting easier to do so with your presence to balance his. 

He prefers to throw himself in as the weapon. Which is why when you’re the one that gets injured this time around, all Xiao can do is panic. He holds you in his arms, frozen as he realizes he cannot help.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a serious wound. But after that, Xiao has been a lot more protective of you; almost hyper-aware.

“W—What are you doing, Xiao?” You flinch as he bites into your palm, drawing a small line of blood. 

Xiao hums. “Did you know that even using your blood, I can only heal you a limited amount with our pact?” Another bite, this time with his fangs, frustrated. “Keep that in mind the next time you plan on getting hurt.” You’re lucky the hospital could treat you this time around.

All Lyney knows is that he was reborn in a fire. At the back of his mind, he’s searching for his siblings—though he’s not sure where they are.

Like smoke filling a room, Lyney’s able to create illusions that trick all the senses. At your first meeting, he’d tried this on you; only for one of your protective amulets to diffuse his powers, revealing a larger demon he’d been working with that’d been ready to devour you. 

Suffice to say, Lyney was quick to switch sides once he noticed that you were winning. That, and the demon he was working with turned out to have lied about having a lead for him. After noticing your potential as a partner, he’d been quick to scout for your help.

He often uses his illusions to fool enemies into fighting one-another, redirecting their attention away—but after the pact, Lyney seems to lose his larger-than-life traits and falls into a casual routine with you. It makes you wonder if he’d been human before this, though sometimes he’s more cat-like than not.

If nothing else, he does like to put on a show when you’re faced with a battle. He makes your job easy, considering that your bond allows you to see past his illusions and maneuver around enemies, finding the perfect blind spots. Despite the oddity of your partnership, you start to enjoy the pattern of working with Lyney, from your smooth conversations to his smarts. 

One thing that does throw him off however, is when a demon you were trying to exorcize attempts to form a pact with you. Not that you can’t have multiple pacts at once, but it’s the first time you’ve seen Lyney openly aggressive towards an enemy, striking it with a sharp bolt of flame that diffuses it long enough for you to dispose of it.

With the threat gone, Lyney was quick to check on you, looking for any traces the other demon might’ve left behind. He calms down once he finds nothing, eyes widening when he realizes your faces are only inches apart.

“I…” He looks like he’s about to apologize, but decides against it. “Please don’t make a pact with anyone else. I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

When you first met, Wanderer had tried to turn you into a puppet.

It was his power, after all—to attach strings onto any form and take control of them. These strings could be cut off, but it would only take so long for him to attach them again.

Most people don’t survive their encounters with him, but you’d managed to trap him into a pact right before things went dire. Now you could restrain his actions to a certain extent, though Wanderer would always push against your control, keeping you on your guard.

Many coworkers have told you to simply be rid of him—but just as you’d tricked Wanderer into a pact with you, he’s since linked your heart with his soul. That is to say, if he was exorcized, you’d be going down with him.

It’s a small relief to learn that Wanderer could also puppeteer other demons, thus you put him to work on the field by your side, turning into an unwilling duo. He has a habit of not doing anything unless you make it a ‘command’, leaning closer with a challenge in his eyes even as an enemy charged at the both of you. 

Then, with a snap of his fingers, they’d stop mid-air. As large as the pact's patterns are on your skin, you had to admit that Wanderer’s power was a deadly one.

You’ve always wondered why he had no reactions to injuries; no matter how serious, you’ve never seen Wanderer express pain. Much, much later into your partnership, you learn that he’s become numb to physical sensations a long time ago. And that him turning into a demon was a gift of reprieve more than not, as he’d destroyed and escaped from an experimental facility shortly after.

During a fight where you'd been affected by a tranquilising venom, Wanderer had been the one to save you; your eyes met briefly as you felt his strings take a hold of your form.

“Don't make me look bad now.” He'd said. “Just relax.” 

With not much of a choice, you allowed him to guide your movements. Somehow, it does feel different compared to your first encounter with his powers. With a push and pull between the strings, you could almost say it felt like a dance.

Were Wanderer's movements always this graceful?

Preorders for my wanderer fanbook and genshin letters are open! If you liked this, consider checking out the purple link on my pinned post!

#genshin venti x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin reader insert #genshin writing #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #traveler wishes

[personne-reblogs]

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 

The curtains are closing. 

The lights are dimming. 

The air still feels filled with static, though. 

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle. 

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

--------------------------

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 

The crowd is gone. 

The curtains are closed. 

The lights are off. 

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

--------------------------

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

#donnie sweep #mob sweep #autismswagsummit #donatello #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #mob #writing #my writing #original content #i dunno how i tag these anymore

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#jay halstead masterlist #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x reader masterlist #jay halstead #k-9 unit #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fic #military dogs #military dog #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

[celerydays]

Hi! I have been following you for some time and I notice you draw more and more Sebastian and Ominis doing stuff that makes me... uncomfortable.....

Sebastian and Ominis are best friends, why people are obsessed with drawing them into weird gay stuff? Seriously.... Why can't be friends.... without all Sebinis... Just stop it...

Normally I would delete messages or simply ignore the things that make me feel uncomfortable–

But, you're on anon and this is my ask inbox, so I can only assume you want an actual, public response. So alright. Fine.

Like I said: normally I would just remove odd, uncomfortable, or even outright rude messages without making a whole thing of it. I curate my own online experience and I try my best to live by that rule.

However, I've now gotten multiple unsolicited DMs over the course of a couple of months expressing the exact same sentiment (and nearly word-for-word as this ask, so I highly suspect I already know who you are). I have duly ignored or glossed over them hoping that the person/people would take the hint to simply stop engaging with the same message over and over again. But an anon ask is my last straw, I guess.

So if you are the same person as in my DMs, I'm finally giving you a response (and if you're not the same person – which I highly doubt – then I'm speaking to both of you).

Firstly, I want to say that I am sorry that your worldview is so limited that this is your stance and feelings on gay/queer ship content for Sebastian and Ominis.

Next, I ask that you please:

Don't make your homophobia anyone else's issue but your own. Don't come into DMs/ask inboxes/comments to make your discomfort with the content I create my problem. I don't know what you hoped to accomplish by sending this message but it's unlikely that you'll find the same feelings or sympathy from the person who is actively creating queer/sebinis content.

Curate your own online experience. Once again, do not make your content consumption anyone else's problem but your own. The "unfollow" button is there. Tumblr has a tag filtering system and I try to tag my art and content as accurately as possible. If you do not like something/it makes you uncomfortable, then do not continue to consume it. And if you still decide to stick around for whatever reason, then please keep your thoughts/opinions on this matter to yourself because I can promise that I don't actually care why you would continue to be here and looking at my art if it makes you unhappy.

Widen your worldview and try to reframe your perspective. Consider that Sebastian x Ominis is just as canon as Sebastian x f!MC or Ominis x f!MC. As much as we like to ship our various MCs with the canon characters, MC never actually amounts to canonically being confirmed as anything but being just friends with everyone. Using the "they are just best friends" / "why can't they just be portrayed only as friends" could literally be applied to just about any other non-canon/non-confirmed ship between friends regardless of gender. If even one of them, Ominis or Sebastian, was portrayed as cis female in canon, I would suspect that you would better "understand" why a ship between these two "friends" may exist. Then also consider a cis male MC; it's possible you may suddenly reframe all the interactions between Ominis x m!MC or Sebastian x m!MC in your head to be "totally platonic/friendly". Your issue is certainly not with their canon relationship vs. fandom portrayal (but I think we both know that).

Educate yourself. Go outside and meet and talk to people, I dunno. It is 2024 my dude. I don't even know how you're on Tumblr – the most queer-friendly social media site – with those kind of narrowed views and stigma.

I would like to finish by saying: I don't wish you the best. What I do wish is for you to learn, grow, and be better than this.

And also please stop sending me messages of this nature, because the next ask or DM I get like this, we're moving on to blocking at this point. And if your purpose was to get me to stop, I can tell you that these messages have only fueled the explicit sebinis smut maker in me. 😤

#I'm sorry for anyone who sees this and did not want a rant on their feed today #ask #anon #sebinis #hl

[friautyalltheway]

Up for a call?

⪩⪨ • Yunho x Reader Smut

⟢🎱

Warnings: Dom! Yunho, Sub! Reader, Phone sex, first time phone sex, fingering, mentions of hair pulling, porn without plot, starts soft but gets naughty, shy reader and Yunho

18+ below the cut!

Yunho being on tour with the band killed you. Yes- sure he would be coming back home in a few weeks again, but you needed him here with you. Of course, to cuddle and to just spend time together - but what you needed most right now was something entirely different. Everytime he went on tour, you became so fucking touch starved and simply needy. Seeing a single video of him performing and growling on stage made you go feral. But no amount of touching yourself could satisfy you enough. Nothing and no one was able to put up with Yunhos skills, which you were craving for right now.

After two hours of doom-scrolling through the latest tiktok-edits and twitter posts of your boyfriend, he finally texted you.

Done with the show for today! Up for a phone call? :)

His message read.

Of course Yuyu!! Just call me when ur ready - i ´ll answer!

You replied. You were looking forward to what he had to tell you about today´s show, and also you were looking forward to hearing his voice again.

A few minutes later your phone rang. Excitedly, you picked up. „Hi Yunho! How was the show today?“, you asked him.

„It went well. But i can ´t wait to come home again, to be honest. I miss you, and i miss peaceful, stress-free sleep…“

His deep, raspy voice went straight to your core. You were ashamed of how embarassingly horny you were for this man. He just wanted to talk, and here you were, thinking about him fucking you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear that would eventually make you come undone.

„Sweetheart?“, he asked. You realised you had been lost in thoughts for quite a while.

„Yes Yunho, sorry, I was just - uhm, distracted.“, you mumbled.

„Distracted? What distracted you, sweetheart?”

You took a deep breath, before you confessed what you had been thinking about for the past hours. „Yunho. It is that i miss you just- not in that way. I don’t know, it is kind of embarrassing to talk about that on the phone but- yes well, of course i want to cuddle up with you and stuff, but, oh god- i really need you in another… another way.“ you stuttered. You felt stupid. Hearing those thoughts from you was probably the last thing he needed right now, exhausted from an extremely long, exhausting show and-

„Y/N, so do I. I wanted to hear your voice. And do not get e wrong, of course I would love to be all cuddly with you right now, but what I really need is something that goes way further than just cuddling. It has been months since I’ve last been with you, touched you, and even on stage i could think of nothing else than just, shit- fucking you.”

You silently gasped at his confession. You felt like a horny teenager, sexting over snapchat- not like the girlfriend of an international Idol talking about how horny the both of you were on the telephone.

“God. I ´m so pissed off that you ´re two continents away from me. Wish you were here instead of your hotel room…”, you sighed.

You heard him draw in a sharp breath, and nothing could have prepared you for the things he was about to say.

“I know that I ´m not here, but we can make the best out of our current situation, right? We ´re both horny and touch starved - so how about you get all comfortable, loose those clothes and imagine i was next to you, hm?”, he suggested.

Shit, what had gotten into him? Yunho usually was not this brave, sometimes not even being able to ask you for sex when you were together because he did not want to make you uncomfortable. But not that you ´d complain - you’ve been literally hoping for something like that to happen. Yunho just shamelessly asking you to have phone sex was all you needed today. It wouldn’t fill up the hole entirely, literally and metaphorically, but it would do enough to satisfy the both of you.

“Sounds very good, yes.”, you told him, your fingers already unclasping your bra, freeing your breasts. Your nipples were already heard, blame the AC blasting cold air in your room.

“Can you… tell me what you’re doing right now?”, Yunho asked with a breathy voice.

“Playing with my- with my breasts, i guess. Feels good, Yuyu.”, you told him.

“Oh, fuck, just imagining your hands playing around with those nipples, shit, we’ve barely even started and I’m already so fucking hard sweetheart”

Hearing him say this made you press your thighs together, the heat in your stomach intensifying.

You let out a breathy moan. “Shit, i’d like to see that right now… Feel it…”

“Oh yes, so do I. I can only imagine how wet you are already. Tell me, do you feel good?”, Yunho asked.

“Mhm. So, so wet for you.”

“Come on princess, finger yourself. Let me hear how good you can make yourself feel while thinking of my cock.” You slowly started fingering yourself, focusing on Yunhos instructions while you applied pressure to your clit with your thum, while your index finger went in and out of your wet pussy. You let out a string of quiet whimpers, loud enough for Yunho to hear.

“Yes, that´s right. Imagine it was my cock pleasuring you right now. Shit. Want to pull your hair and make you my little slut… Want you to fall apart…”

Hearing those filthy, filthy words coming out of the mouth of your usually sweet, innocent boyfriend made your walls contract around your fingers.

“Stroking myself for you right now, princess. Feels so fucking good…”

You added another finger.

“Tell me what you ´re doing right now, will you?”, he demanded.

“G-got two fingers inside right now. Fuck, it´s not enough. I wish it was you, baby.”, you explained to him. “Go on, add another finger. I know you can take it.”

“I don ´t know if I can, ´m close already, so, so close…”, you whined. The image of Yunho lying in his bed, hand on his erect member was playing in your head non-stop, bringing you close to the edge faster than ever before. “I ´m sure you can, come on. Hold on a little while longer for me.”

His words of encouragement reached you, and you did as he told you. Using three fingers now nearly made you fall apart, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, your orgasm approaching fast.

“Sweetheart i ´m sorry, but I am so close. Wanted to keep on going but imagining my pretty, little pathetic whore with three fingers in her pussy is just way too much for me, shit…”

“Yuyu, fuck… I ´m-“

“Come for me, princess. Let me hear those moans, hm?”

That was what sent you over the edge. With one last, loud moan you came, Yunho following close with a satisfied groan.

“God. What a way to end the day.”, he murmured. “You did so good for me. Love you, sweetheart.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagine #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho x you #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez yunho smut

[aealzx]

Better Genes part 29.1

Part 1 of 3 extra, illustrated writing additions to the Better Genes comic.

Takes place between page 29 and 30.

Contains: Use of sedatives, character injury, blood, TV Medicine, TV Science, panic attack, mutation body horror, injured eye, severely sprained ankle, overall body pain

Comic: Start     pg 26-29  

Writing:  Part 2    Part 3

____________

I got a couple comments about being excited for monster Donnie content (despite mentioning that there wasn’t going to be much) and felt kind of bad for not having much. ;v; There was no way I was going to add another 30 pages or more to the comic though, especially since I’ve never even tried to do fight scenes in comic form before. X’D

So instead I wrote 8 pages and drew 3 more flat colored pics as a sort of middle ground.

Talking with my platonic waifu, since the comic is on tumblr I’m also going to put the writing on tumblr instead of AO3 despite it being long because cross platform content can be annoying. Everything will be split into 3 posts, underneath a read more break to hopefully not stretch the screen a horrendous amount.

____________

(Story and drawing under the cut)

With a quick swish of his temporarily manifested blade, Leo opened a portal to the part of the sewers that was a short distance from where he’d sent Donnie. He didn’t want to pop in right next to him and startle him into attacking them after all. It would be better if they could sneak up on him and pop a few rounds of sedatives into him first. Unfortunately, when Leo stepped through the portal he was greeted with Casey’s back coming in hot directly at his face, having gotten bodily launched across the sewer tunnel by Donnie’s clawed hand. With a startled, halfway muffled yelp, Leo dodged to the side slightly and flung an arm up quick enough to catch Casey and help him regain his footing instead of crashing into the others filtering through the portal as well.

“Alright there Case?” Leo asked with a forced grin, trying to remain optimistic despite the scene before him being the unwanted route. So much for sneaking up on their brother.

“Sorry Master-! Ah… Sorry Leo. He noticed we were following him and got angry,” Casey babbled hurriedly. His upbringing made him quick to give an update on the situation, which also ended up answering Leo’s unasked question about what had ticked Donnie off.

“Yeah, that sounds like Donnie,” Leo chuckled, removing his hand from supporting Casey now that he had his balance back. “He always was quick to lash out when we got in his space when he didn't want us there. Too bad it’s time for his medicine, so we can’t give into his cranky wishes for alone time,” he added dramatically, gesturing to the injection pens Mikey had now that he and April had joined them as well. “We got the antibodies, so we’re ready to take him down and bring him back home. Thanks for sticking it out until now.”

Casey’s expression turned into a sheepish yet grateful smile, but before he could respond Raph’s bellowing voice echoed through the tunnel from close by.

“LEO! You didn’t mention he’d grown another meter!” Raph complained emphatically as he was grappling Donnie’s mutated mouth with ninpo covered hands. He didn’t fancy getting bitten by Donnie’s new set of fangs, considering his original set of teeth already did enough damage when he was legitimately angry. And if Raph knew anything about Donnie’s levels of anger, then he would guess Donnie was beyond pissed at the moment. That combined with his new size made grappling him a losing battle, Raph’s heels dragging paths in the dirt as he was shoved backwards.

“I figured that was rather self explanatory considering what he got infected from,” Leo sassed back, loading one of the sedative darts into the gun and taking aim. He was hesitant to fire with Raph directly in the path, but luckily for both of them a quick snap from Splinter’s tail saved Raph from being Donnie’s new chew toy. The forward momentum was broken, and Raph quickly opened his hands as Donnie’s head was knocked to the side.

As April rushed forward, her name belted from her lips, Leo figured he should pass a word of caution to them all just so it would be explicitly known. “Try not to piss him off too much please. We need him rather still for Mikey to administer the antibodies,” he warned, pulling the trigger on the tranquilizer gun when he felt he wasn't going to hit anyone but the intended target. He ended up wincing in apology the dart smacked Donnie in the side of the nose, causing him to recoil slightly from the sting before shaking the dart dart off and turning to snarl at Leo.

“...Maybe you shouldn’t shoot him in the face then,” Casey commented lightly with a weak chuckle, a slight tease, and an analytical pause for an opening before he ran forward to join the fray once more.

“Okay, so aiming in real life is a lot different from video games,” Leo defended with a sheepish shrug. Donnie apparently thought that was enough of an offense to warrant revenge, for he started to charge towards Leo, causing him to start backing up. “Mikey, I need a weight estimate.”

“Got it!” Mikey chirped, securing the injection pens into his belts and darting forward to dash towards Donnie before feinting to the side. Considering Donnie was way too tall for him to grapple anything but his arms or legs now, Mikey had coiling chains wrap around Donnie’s middle as additional ones helped fling him overhead. Twisting in the air, Mikey latched onto the handholds he’d created and used them and his momentum to heave Donnie into a rather gentle toss a few meters away. “Uhhhh….He’s kinda like one of those tiny smart car things?” Mikey called back to Leo after landing on his feet again in a crouch. “When do I start poking him?”

A smart car? That was a weird comparison. But it actually made sense when Leo remembered Mikey’s usual choice of throwing arsenal. But that definitely wasn’t something he knew the weight of by memory. Which meant he was digging his phone out of his shell for a quick internet look up. “As soon as you’re confident you can hold it in place for 8 seconds,” Leo answered, half distracted by the phone. About 700 kilograms? Well, it was better than a complete guess. He’d just have to play on the safe side and maybe do one or two doses less than calculated for that weight. Loading another sedative dart as he calculated the maximum quantity he was allowed to use in his head, he tried to push away the usual second guessing his brain did. Based on the tests he’d done in Donnie’s lab with the left over blood sample, the mutated physique caused him to have a slightly accelerated metabolism rate with the sedatives, and therefore he should be able to safely use 8 darts before he risked an overdose. Now that he had a set number Leo raised the gun and fired another dart, stabbing Donnie in the crook of his shoulder. 

That made two.

This felt too slow. Half of his team was already worn down somewhat, and he was taking too long to aim and wait for an opening with all of them swarming around Donnie like flies on old cheese. Every time they tried to break away from him though he was immediately lashing out at one of them, causing the others to rush back in to support. Sliding another dart into the gun’s slot, Leo started walking towards his brother, hoping that closing the distance would make it easier and faster to hit him with more sedatives. It would also be great if he didn’t have to reload the gun after every single shot. But Donnie apparently hadn’t made the gun for rapid fire. Unusual for him honestly. Taking aim, Leo’s focus was split as he pulled the trigger when Raph gave an unusually pain filled yelp. Donnie’s new tail had caught him in the side of the head, close enough to the tunnel wall to bounce him off the surface slightly. It was enough to cause Leo to suck in a tense breath, knowing that Raph’s scar was fragile, and look towards him before the trigger was fully pulled. Consequently, the third shot ended up missing, crashing into the opposite wall and probably snapping the needle. That was fine. That’s why they filled an excessive amount of darts. There were more important issues at the moment.

“Raph?” Leo called in a nervous question, seeing his older brother pushing a palm against his right eye.

“I’m okay!” Raph assured, keeping his palm in place until the sting subsided, then pulled his hand away. While he checked to see if there was any blood on his fingers, Donnie’s back foot knocked him over and ended up using him as a pedestal to stand on while he avoided April’s swinging bat. Raph’s breath left him in a huff, and he wrapped his arms around Donnie’s toes to try and relieve the pressure on his chest.

Figuring he should help Raph out, Leo dashed forward as Mikey lept into a split arc over the top of Donnie, apparently having the same goal. Splinter was focused on keeping Donnie from hurting the others, knocking his clawed hand away when he swiped at April. “Boy! You better watch where you're swinging those!” April hollered, having ducked and shielded her head before realizing Splinter had protected her.

“Try not to hurt him too much, it’s still Donnie!” Leo hollered in return, rushing to dive underneath Donnie in a slide while also pointing the tranquilizer gun at him half blindly and pulling the trigger while barely missing getting swatted instead. Being this close to him it would be hard to miss. Or at least he hoped as such. But he also needed to check and make sure Raph was okay. Skidding to a stop next to Raph, Leo allowed Raph to use his ninpo to shove Donnie’s foot off himself before he took a glancing look at his squinting eye.

#my art #my writing #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #better genes #better genes add on #Leo #Raph #Mikey #April #Casey #Donnie #Medic Leo #use of sedatives #written eye injury

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Four

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

1916, The Dreaming

Morpheus was reading to you, a past time you had wormed out of him much to his confusion for why you wanted him to read to you. You knew perfectly well how to read these days, could flip your own pages, had read an innumerous amount of books since becoming a raven. But he found that it was, at times, hard to say no to you. He would never admit that he enjoyed your active seeking of his company. So here he was with you perched on the arm rest of his throne while he read you one of the newest books to appear in the library.

It was a book of poems, The Road Not Taken, by a mortal named Robert Frost, you found that you rather liked listening to the poems. Or maybe it was Morpheus’s voice. You liked the sound of it just as much. Morpheus finished up the last poem in the book and slowly closed the heavy leather bound book.

“Are you still awake, my raven?” Morpheus softly asked, knowing that on occasion, you fell asleep. A sight he rather enjoyed. But no, you had not fallen asleep this time and waddled your way to the end of the arm rest.

“Quite so,” You replied, tilting your head. “And I don’t always fall asleep.” Morpheus raised an eyebrow in counter and you stamped your foot. “I mean it! I’m listening!”

“So you say,” Morpheus echoed, enjoying the way you worked yourself up. It was when your true personality shone the brightest and your melancholy of being a raven was momentarily forgotten. Morpheus’s eyes dropped to the little anklet wrapped around your left leg. It had a little ruby hanging off of it that matched the one he wore around his neck. It was a gift that he had gotten you  years past after Jessamy mentioned your birthday.

While mortal celebrations such as birthdays were not celebrated within The Dreaming, Jessamy had planned out a small party for your 150th birthday. Many of the palace staff had given you unique trinkets from around the realm, even some found in other realms. Morpheus had mulled over what gift to give you, knowing that you already had all material possessions you could want. Certainly when it pertained to your passion of art. Jessamy had saved the day once again, suggesting that you would love something he created.

Morpheus had thought a ruby would be appropriate, as the red color fit nicely against your midnight and pearl colored feathers. It was also nice to have every visitor in the realm see that you were his beloved raven. You had glowed when he presented to you and you glowed every time it was mentioned, and then showed it off to anyone who would look.

“You’re staring, am I molting again without realizing it? Do I have pin feathers sticking out?” You asked, titling your head to the side before turning in a circle and inspecting your plumage. You couldn’t see any wayward feathers… but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Be at peace, Adrienne, for there is naught a single feather out of place,” Morpheus assured you, fingers catching the side of your face and drawing your gaze back to his. “I was merely appreciating the divine Corvus perched upon my throne.”

“You’re flattering me… what are you about to do?” You accused him, narrowing your eyes at Morpheus and once again, hitting the nail on the head. Morpheus sighed at your ability to see through him.

“Adrienne…”

“No,” You tutted, hopping a few paces so you were out of reach of his bewitching touch. “I know when you and Jessamy are about to leave The Dreaming, you are consistently trying to get in my good graces. Where are you off to this time?”

“A Nightmare has gone rogue, Jessamy and I will be setting out to retrieve him.” Morpheus explained, running the back of his fingers down your neck. You stared hard into his eyes for a few moments before deciding that he was telling the truth. Not that he had ever told you an untruth.

“A rogue Nightmare,” You mused to yourself, mind thinking over who the fool was to go against Morpheus. “Which one? And why are you going to retrieve them? Can’t you just tell one of the others to go get him?”

Morpheus shook his head.

“I fear that it is one of the great arcana’s, that has strayed from his task.” He explained to you. “I shall go and retrieve him myself.” When it became apparent that Morpheus wasn’t going to tell you who had strayed from their task, you pressed further.

“You didn’t answer which one rebelled.” You pointed out. Morpheus, try as he might, couldn’t hide everything from you. You were the sibling of Jessamy and neither of you missed anything. You took a threatening step (it was hardly threatening to the Endless) towards Morpheus. “Who was it!?”

“Adrienne,” Morpheus started to speak, you cut him off.

“This isn’t something you need to protect me from!” You pointed out. “If it’s a threat to The Dreaming then I should know! You know ignorance is the biggest threat of them all.” Morpheus disagreed, sometimes knowing was far more dangerous, but he wouldn’t argue with you. He didn’t want to argue with you.

“I fear that it is The Corinthian who has gone astray,” Morpheus admitted to you, drawing a finger to the underside of your beak. “But you are not to interfere, Adrienne.” He warned you, his eyes sparkling with his astral power for a moment. “Am I clear?”

You weren’t so rebellious to not recognize a serious warning that you’d do well to heed.

“How bad is it?” You asked quietly, slumping where you stood, worry now filling your tiny body. Morpheus gaze turned gentle once more.

“Have no fear for Jessamy and I, my precious Adrienne, we are only going out to retrieve the Corinthian.” Morpheus soothed and reassured you. “We shall be back before you finish your sketch.”

“I told you that I only have an hours work left.“ You said skeptically.

“Precisely,” Morpheus spoke before rising from the throne and setting the book aside. He summoned his helm and donned it, then turned back to you. “Wait for me, Adrienne, and we shall start the next book in our stack. There is nothing to worry about,” He promised, then drawing out his pouch of sand, you watched as Morpheus transported himself from the realm.

“Then why do I have a bad feeling?” You whispered to an empty throne room.

You were mindlessly dragging your pencil across parchment, in a trance and dissociating from your surroundings. The only sound in your studio was the scratching of your pencil and your little feet twisting around on your work table. Lowering the pencil from the parchment, you examined the sketch of Morpheus with Jessamy perched on his shoulder. You didn’t know why you felt so composed to sketch it. Maybe it was the fact that despite Morpheus giving you his word that he would be back within an hour, both of them had yet to return after three hours.

Then again, time was weird within The Dreaming, so perhaps you had once again let it pull you into its grasp. Your head turned to the silent clock hanging on the wall. No. It had been three hours since Jessamy and Morpheus left. Late. Dream of the Endless was never late. Dream of the Endless never broke his promises. The pencil slipped from your grasp and you let it roll along the table and fall to the floor.

“I’d hate to harass Lucienne, but this is not normal.” You spoke to yourself, not able to hold back the growing worry within your small body. Abandoning the sketch, you took flight and opened a hole in the realm to fly directly to the library. Flying from your art studio to the library, you soared through the shelves and spotted Lucienne shelving a stack of books. You flared your wings and coasted down, landing on the top of the shelf. Lucienne looked up at you.

“Hello Adrienne, what brings you by the library.” You shifted your wings nervously, not wanting to bother her, but knowing that something was indeed wrong.

“Morpheus and Jessamy aren’t back yet,” You explained softly. “It’s been three hours.” Lucienne’s eyebrow went up and she adjusted her spectacles.

“Perhaps they found other business to attend to,” Lucienne offered.

“He promised he wouldn’t even be an hour, Luce, he said to wait for him,” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “He— he promised.”

That had Lucienne’s back going ramrod straight, for she knew that when Morpheus made promises, especially to you, he always kept his word. There was no one in the universe that Morpheus cherished more than you, and if he hadn’t kept a promise to you? Something was gravely wrong.

“Can you still feel Jessamy?” Lucienne asked, knowing that you and Jessamy were connected through your shared blood. You bobbed your head and shuffled in place, your ruby anklet jangling.

“Yes, that was the first thing I checked when the hour was up. You know Jess, she doesn’t play around, she’d make sure they found Cori and brought him back. She wouldn’t let anything get in their way. If they were going to change plans they’d tell me,” You said, your true anxiety leeching into your voice. “Luce, I haven’t heard anything from them.”

Everyone in the palace waited for Morpheus to return. Some with bated breath, others sure that the Endless simply had gotten caught up in business. But then days turned into weeks, and weeks to months. Soon years were trickling by, Endless and raven still missing. You always kept hope in your heart, certain that they would come back. They wouldn’t leave you all alone. But they never came and you sat perched on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, waiting.

You didn’t know if it was your faith in Morpheus and Jessamy that kept you waiting, or your love for them. Jessamy was your rock, grounding you to The Dreaming and keeping you stable in your immortal life. Morpheus was the one who held you heart. To lose either of them would hurt you irreparably.

Night and day you sat there, waiting. It felt like agony to you, and it was by Lucienne and Mervyn’s despair that you barely took care of yourself. You often found yourself curled up on Morpheus’s throne, hoping that when you woke up they would be there. That Morpheus would be staring down at you in amusement as he chastised you for sleeping in his seat. You would give anything to be chastised by him again. But they never came back. Jessamy never came swooping back into the throne room. Morpheus never returned in a swirl of starry eyes and dark hair.

Then one day, nearly ten years after their disappearance, you were numbly helping Lucienne shelve books in the library. She had convinced you to leave the throne room, a very rare occurrence. Clicking across the table full of books, you were about to tug the next book of a pile when a blinding pain hit your chest and you let out a scream. Lucienne spun around to look at you just as your body flopped onto the table top and you convulsed.

Pain was blistering all over your body, like hot rocks were digging into your flesh. You flailed, your wings flapping like crazy while you struggled to breathe. Just as quickly as that blinding pain had come, it disappeared and you were left feeling a deep emptiness. While you gasped for air and tried to understand what had just happened, Lucienne’s hands gently righted your twisted body.

“Adrienne!?” Lucienne called, alarmed by your scream and worried that something terrible had happened. “Adrienne what happened?” You whimpered, knowing exactly what the hollowed emptiness you felt was. Not able to hold back your choked sob, you let out another terrible scream as tears dripped from your eyes.

“She’s gone!” You choked out, your wings flapping against the wood as you tried to grasp onto something to stop you from truly breaking down. Lucienne didn’t understand what you meant by ‘she’s gone’ at first, but the more your writhed around and the more you cried, the further her heart sank in her chest.

Only one event would cause you this much pain.

Lucienne collected you within her arms and held you against her chest to stop your thrashes, fearing that you would only hurt yourself. But in the end, nothing she could say or do would ever soothe the hurt you felt.

Date Published: 5/24/23

Last Edit: 5/24/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless #the sandman netflix #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman

[boxheadpaint]

no amount of medication will make me not start clawing my own head from the persistent vacuum-like hum outside. can make a diary post though.

took monitor off today, the skin under one patch was totally fine but the skin under the other seems to have had a less good time. that left patch was the itchier of the two, but i wonder what the exact difference was. can take a normal shower again though so im just not gonna worry about it. need to build up the resilience again to block out the heart palpitations too. i want nothibg more than to lay down and curl in until my chest doesnt feel so tight against the beating.

small things have gotten under my skin lately, mostly having to do with my surface computer. its always been a fickle beast to use, but lately its just seemed more like a chore. the back panel that i could use to prop it up has broken off, and my brain still thinks something is wrong with the pen cursor position no matter how many times i calibrate it. this mostly affects how i draw in ms paint, which is immensely frustrating and confusing.

i wish i wasnt so tired. theres things i want to do, genuinely i want to clean the living room or store things away or talk to my friends but i am just so so so exhausted physically and it doesnt go away no matter what i do or how much sleep i get. i keep having upsetting thoughts and struggling against thinking about them and how i affect others. i have Barely drawn the past... idk, few? two weeks? i drew something yesterday for the absol stream and i scribbled in my sketchbook but they were barely anything and still took great effort to just Not Fuck It Up.

i dont want to avoid it but i dont want to talk about it either. all i want is to feel at Least alright again. but instead i feel like a damn boulder, or a bunch of brittle sticks. id like to think that actually yes an extended depressive episode can be brought on by allergies and if i took a benadryl id suddenly feel like myself again. And probably also fall asleep but thats allergy meds for you.

4/9/2024, Well Watever

#diary

[rogerswifesblog-updates]

Good morning and happy Valentine's Day!😘❤️

I hope the two super soldiers have already gotten up and starts preparing you a wonderful date :3

(And NO! I refuse the idea that they don't exist😤😤 They do! Just not in the same universe🤣 and we could occasionally visit their universe in our dreams🤣🤣

Hey, happy Valentine’s Day to you too!!🥺❤️

Yes of course the SuperSoldiers always prepare wonderful dates (yes, they totally exist and we can visit them😩)

What would contain a Valentine’s Day with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes;

Warinings: mentioned oral fr, mentioned creampie, oral mr, p in v, male masturbation, Stucky x Reader, threesome and otherwise a lot of fluff

You are woken with kisses all over your body and Bucky between your legs, while Steve lost in paper, rock, scissors because, yes, that’s how these grown ass men decide anything in life, with a game.

And Steve always loses, unknowingly choosing the same pattern every time. Bucky had noticed it before the war even started.

So now Steve had to make your favourite breakfast, listening to your moans and cries of pleasure, always screaming Buckys name out. To torture him (at least it felt like that) you’d often also say his name. Steve, god, wish you’d be here too. Bucky I think I’m-oh god, Bucky, yes-please- Fuck Steve, come here-fuck-

Steve nearly broke the plate when he put it on the counter, feeling as if all his blood rushed to his dick, completely making it unable to think straight.

But finally he finished the breakfast and it seemed like you and Bucky finished too. He’d hoped he’d be able to join at least for a few minutes, kiss his lovers and spend a lazy morning with you-but someone had to make breakfast to really spoil you today.

He grabbed a tray and walked into the bedroom.

You were laying on bucky’s sweaty chest, both of your breathings heavy. A beautiful pictures he’d love to draw sometime.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart-To you too, idiot”, he added, as Bucky opened his eyes. You grinned, pecking Bucky one more time on the cheek, before sitting up and waiting for the food-but then you grimaced slightly, as you felt Buckys cum leak out of your sensitive hole.

“Thank you, my favourite super Soldiers in the world”, you smiled, giving Bucky another kiss on the cheek, before looking up at Steve, who was still standing with the tray and only his boxershorts in front of you. You saw the outline of his hard cock straining the boxershorts, leaving a wet spot where his tip was behind. Grabbing the tray from Steve’s hands, you put it aside, crawling to the edge.

When the comforter fell from your body, a soft gasp escaped both men, as your whole body was revealed, covered in hickeys and soft bruises from their grips.

Steve watched as you slowly pulled down his boxershorts, revealing his hard cock, angry and neglected. You didn’t waste anytime, taking him in your mouth, swallowing around him. The bed dipped behind you and you felt two metal fingers pushing into your puffy pussy, making you moan around Steve’s length.

Bucky coated his fingers in your mixed releases, before holding his fingers out for Steve to taste. And boy did he taste them. You looked up when you heard Steve moan and suck around the metal digits. He looked down at you when you suckled at his leaking tip, before grabbing you hair and pulling you off of his dick. “Fuck I’ve listened to you two all morning, I can’t wait any second longer”, he mumbled, pushing you onto your back and spreading your legs.

A moan escaped his throat as he saw the amount of cum drenching your folds, leaking out of your sensitive hole. A chuckle escaped him when he noticed how your pussy started throbbing, pushing some of Bucky's cum out. Such a beautiful picture.

Steve coated his fingers with Buckys and your juices, before spreading it all over his cock. “Buck was gentle with you today, huh?” While you nodded he looked back to his boyfriend, who was already pumping his hard cock in one hand. “Yeah we wanted for you to have a quiet morning…just taking care of you, making love to you…but you wouldn’t be mad, if we change it a bit huh? Would you like for me to fuck you? Hard?”, he grinned, grinding his hard cock between your folds, bumping your clit with every movement.

Nodding you moaned both of their names, spreading your legs even further. Steve chuckled at your desperate moans.

He buried his cock with one hard thrust in your pussy, the squelching noise obscure as he started pounding into you, not giving you time to get used to it. They both knew you liked it that way. Always loving the slight burn.

Bucky was the first to shoot his load all over his chest, still watching as Steve was fucking into you. You were a moaning and shaking mess, letting Steve do the work with his hard thrusts and circling your clit with his fingers. Since you were already so sensitive it only took a couple more thirsts till you finally came, nearly screaming their names.

After Steve spilled his load into you, he slowly pulled out of you, falling onto the bed next to you.

Heavy breathing you all laid there, not saying anything. Bucky was the one to move first, grabbing something to wipe away the cum from his chest, before he once again cuddled against you.

“Steve?”, you whispered. “Yeah, sweetheart?” “I’m hungry”, he grinned slightly, kissing your forehead and sitting up. “Okay, but you have to sit and I’ll give you the plate-“ “no, feed me.” “Feed you? But-“ “You heard our girl. Feed her-and me too”, Bucky grinned, leaning his head on his arm. Steve rolled his eyes, but there was still a grin on his lips. He started cutting the food, before giving each of you some bites, also eating himself a bit.

After that you all took a shower-or well, showers, separately, because otherwise it might’ve ended once again in bed. Not that you minded-but you had other plans for today.

When you walked into the bedroom-already wearing your pretty outfit, you giggled, watching the men find something to wear that (from what you heard) complemented their eyes. These two.

“You both look good in everything you wear-but if you really want to complement your eyes you should wear the baby blue colour, Steve, and Bucky you could go with the green one, it always makes your eyes shine nicely”, you walked up to them giving them each a kiss on the lips, before grabbing your jacket.

You spend a beautiful day with your boys, filled with museums, food and a wonderful mood. Not even a single person came up to ask for a photo or autograph. It’s like everyone was busy with their own lives, or maybe loved ones. It was definitely a nice change from usually being overwhelmed with all the people around you.

Your boys bought you flowers at nearly every flower shop you walked by, in return you bought them snacks, especially sweets.

They both had a sweet tooth, especially Steve, Everyone thought he was the healthy one, always drinking the green smoothies around the team but at home? He’d eat a whole cake in one go if you’d let him unsupervised. You knew. Because it already happened twice.

Bucky loves to cook, so he usually prepares all meals, occasionally with your help, but normally he just enjoys it alone. Creating something good with his hands. That’s what he once told you, when you insisted you could do the cooking, especially since they often have to train a lot and are tired.

But Bucky really liked cooking. It helped him cope. And he was also phenomenal.

“It’s getting dark, we should go home”, you said, looking at the sky. Steve chuckled. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you don’t have to be scared”, “yeah, we’d protect you”, Bucky added, only making you laugh. “Oh trust me, I know it. But you two-especially you Steve-should get in trouble again. Especially not on Valentine’s Day”, you grinned, already knowing both men blushed, without needing to look up. “You’re right, we should go home soon. We wanted to watch a movie anyway.”

So with that you discussed which movie you’d watch, while walking back home-normally it would be Steve’s turn to pick a movie, but he asked you to pick something for today, since it was a special day. Once again you felt your heart swell at how sweet you boys were.

Walking into your apartment you took off your shoes and jacket, going straight for the couch. “Buck, can you make popcorn? Steve always burns it”, you said, turning on the TV. “Yeah, doll. Steve, grab some beers and you can sit down, I’ll take care of the snacks”, you heard them talking for a while, before Steve came back, his lips rosy from being kissed. A smile spread over your lips, while you pulled him closer to you.

“Maybe we could watch a Rom-com? There’s this movie called ‘isn’t it romantic’, it’s kinda funny…”, Steve nodded, putting his arm around you. “Whatever you want baby, let’s wait for buck and then you can turn it on.”

Only a few minutes later bucky came back and sat down on the other side from you, leaning against you, till he was nearly laying on you. Grinning, you started brushing his hair with your free hand. “I love you both”, you whispered, giving them each a kiss. Having these two around was amazing. Every day felt like Valentine's Day with them. They were always sweet and attentive, surprising you with flowers or small gifts for no reason. Steve with his drawing and you with new baked goods, whenever he wanted to try out a new receipt. You couldn’t have imagined better partners than these two super soldiers. They listened and they cared. Not only about you, but also each other.

At first they had been a bit unsure about showing their affection for each other in front of you, but you assured them you wanted to see it. You wanted them to be happy. After that they kissed more often in front of you, hugged more, touched or just looked at each other with so much love, you felt it yourself. It was beautiful. They could finally be together, after so many years…so many ups and downs…

Some people didn’t understand your relationship. Three people in one relationship? Yeah, many thought it was weird and that it probably didn’t work…but it did. It was perfect like that.

“We love you too. So much…”

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

I Hope you enjoyed reading this short one shot<3

Please leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!❤️

Tags @inlovewithchrisevans

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #bucky imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

[erin-bo-berin]

Hiya! I live for your dad!steve blurbs honestly makes my heart crazy-

Could you do a blurb where like reader is preparing for Christmas and because she is a little broke things arent the best and shes struggling financially , but steve loves this little toddler with everything in him and just spashes a bit of cash making the reader like a smidge emotional/embarassed but like its all fluffy and she is reassured and stuff? Like idk if this is well written but it seemed cute 🥰

Thank you so much anon! I love writing them as I’m a sucker for them. And oh boy you don’t know how excited for this blurb I am. I absolutely LOVE Christmas, so this is gonna be fun lol shall I do it in the same universe as the singleteenmom!reader x Steve and her baby? Cause I kinda wanna expand on that if y’all want to read it!

Christmas is a magical time of year.

It’s always been one of your favorites as a child and now, being a mom, it was even more magical to see the joy through the eyes of your little girl.

She’s getting older and starting to understand more than she was when she was a baby. Regardless only being 2, she’s starting to appreciate opening gifts. Her birthday was wild, so you can’t imagine how she’ll be at Christmas.

It saddened you a bit that you can’t get half the things you wished you could for your little girl and you expressed your worries to your boyfriend Steve.

“I just want to get her so much,” you frowned, “I’ll see these toys I’ll know she’ll love or a book. I just can’t afford it this year, unfortunately.”

Being a single mom was hard. It was only your baby girl and you for the first year of your life, until you met Steve shortly after she turned a year old. Ever since then, life had gotten better. He loved your daughter as much as if she was his own and you loved the man he was, especially around your baby.

But you still provided for your girl and some things, such as Christmas, was too extravagant for your budget. You could only get her a few small items.

“I know she’s still at the age where she doesn’t really understand and will love whatever she gets, I just wish I could get her more.”

Steve listened to you, his face pensive, all while holding you in his arms.

“Would it be alright if I got her a few things then? Or maybe we can go shopping together for some more gifts for her?” he suggested.

“Steve, no, you don’t have to,” you reassured him.

He’d already asked you if it was okay for him to get her a gift, which of course you said yes to. Your little girl absolutely loved Steve and you knew he wanted to get her a gift. But you knew you had to draw the line, you didn’t want to seem like you just wanted him just to buy things for her, that wasn’t the reason for your venting.

“I want to,” he grinned sweetly, “You know how much I love my little pumpkin. We can go shopping and get some of those toys and books you said you’ve spotted. How about it?”

You smiled at the thought. Even though she wasn’t his biological child, she was his in every way that mattered and the thought of Christmas shopping for your baby together caused a warmth to spread through your chest.

“Okay,” you relented, “As long as you don’t go too crazy.”

•

Steve went crazy.

“Steve Harrington! Where did all these gifts come from?”

It was Christmas morning. You were still in your pajamas, holding your daughter on her hip.

She was rubbing her eyes sleepily, still in her matching red and green reindeer printed toddler pajamas, not noticing the huge amount of gifts stacked around your Christmas tree.

Steve was sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee, looking way too good at this early of an hour in his own pajamas. His hair was slightly ruffled by sleep and he sported a slight layer of scruff as he beamed at you.

“Teve!” your daughter commanded, reaching her arms out towards your boyfriend.

He sat down his mug and took the toddler into his lap.

“Merry Christmas my little reindeer. Did you sleep well?”

“Yesh.”

She grinned at him and he chuckled, still amused at how her baby version of “yes” sounded.

“Nice way to avoid the question,” you raised an eyebrow, sitting down next to them.

You had bought at most six presents with Steve that afternoon you’d went shopping with him. Along with your gifts, it’d barely made a dozen presents total. Looking at the piles of presents now, there had to be at least two dozen, if not more.

“You really expected me to not spoil my pumpkin?” Steve grinned.

“All of these are from you?”

You were amazed and albeit, a little embarrassed. The fact he could afford all of this when you couldn’t.

“Of course not. Some are from Santa too,” he winked.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“You ready to open presents sweetheart?” he asked turning her towards the tree.

Seeing your daughter’s eyes light up was so worth it.

“Pwesents!”

You laughed and began hauling over presents. She didn’t dare move from Steve’s lap as she opened them, even though he had to help her a bit.

When you thought she couldn’t get excited enough for one gift, she’d get even more excited for the next. Her pure childlike joy was enough to bring tears to your eyes. This was all you wanted for her on Christmas Eve. It shouldn’t matter how it happened, just that it had happened. It was a Christmas miracle. And for you? Steve Harrington was your Christmas miracle.

You mouthed a thank you to him, when she was busy opening up another present and he gave you a warm, loving smile from over her head.

Wrapping and bows went flying and still the presents piled up.

Toys, books, a pack of crayons, a coloring book, another stuffed bunny, a blanket, candy and more littered the living room floor by the time she was done.

At some point she had migrated from Steve’s lap to the floor, checking everything out.

“Steve, really, this was too much. I’m actually embarrassed I can’t even afford this much for her.”

“Don’t be. You do so much for her already. You love her so much and she knows that,” he said, pulling you into a hug, “Don’t you know that mommy loves you a lot, munchkin?”

“Yesh,” she nodded, not looking up from the toy she was messing with.

“See? The kid speaks.”

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Really, thank you again. It was worth seeing her so happy. Thank you for the presents, even the ones you got me,” you laughed.

You’d told him not to worry about anything for you, even though it was a bit hypocritical since you had gotten him gifts as well. But, being the sweetheart he was, he’d gotten you a beautiful necklace and a few books you’d been eyeing and it was so much more than you’d even been anticipating.

“I told you, I’m happy to. You know I love my two girls.”

“Can you tell Steve thank you for all the gifts?”

Your daughter got up, running back towards the couch as Steve reached out, picking her up. He held her high in the air for a few moments causing her to kick out her arms and legs and squeal with happy laughter before bringing him down on his chest.

“Tank oo Teve!” she smiled, throwing her arms around his neck.

It was a picture that would’ve melted even the coldest of hearts and your smile reached from ear to ear and you watched him hold her tiny body closer to him.

“Anytime, baby girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb

[classickook]

measurements | sherlock holmes

pairing: sherlock holmes x fem!reader

summary: as you join john and sherlock on a case, you’re not too pleased to see the infamous irene adler flirting with your boyfriend. (based off this request by anon.)

warnings: jealousy, mentions of self-doubt, mentions of nudity, a bit suggestive at the end

word count: 1.0k

a/n: starting to catch up on requests! hope you like it <3

when you first stepped into the woman’s residence alongside sherlock and john, you weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t a stark naked dominatrix strutting across the room in all her bare glory.

she certainly had a physique to draw attention, all lithe limbs and fair skin, dark hair coiffed to perfection and blood-red lips; she had the appearance of a modern-day snow white in her gilded castle, albeit a bit more intimidating and dangerous.

you hadn’t heard much about the woman, though her reputation and current concern regarding the royal scandal were the topic of discussion now and your reason for being inside her extravagant house.

the woman was known for her secrets, never specifying just what they were or how she had acquired them, but you could only assume the worst—and that was how you, john, and sherlock had gotten yourselves caught in the dominatrix’s clutches.

you had hoped this crisis would be resolved in a rather short amount of time, what with sherlock holmes being the best of the best, but it appeared that irene adler had much more in store for the three of you with sherlock being the main subject of interest.

you were each settled in the living room—sherlock and you on the sofa while john took the armchair—all the while irene traipsed throughout the room without a care in the world for her state of undress.

“look at those cheekbones,” irene purred as she approached sherlock. “i could cut myself slapping that face. would you like me to try?”

“you do have really nice cheekbones,” you muttered under your breath without the intention of anyone hearing you, but you noticed how sherlock’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. his fingers flexed as if he was about to reach out and touch you but was soon interrupted.

irene was circling about sherlock’s position on the sofa as if she were a predator toying with her prey, and then draped herself across the arm of it, leaning her naked form all over your boyfriend.

you bit your tongue so as not to spout off any insults or proof of just how angry you were at the situation; you figured it might be best for the case if you didn’t antagonize the woman, but it still boiled your blood all the same. you understood that the woman wouldn’t have known the two of you were dating as sherlock wasn’t the most affectionate lover, and given the fact that the two of you were working a case, but maybe it would be best if she didn’t just assume that he was single… that’s all.

okay, yes, you were jealous that she was naked in front of him, proudly flaunting herself and her body and what she could do to him that you would never dare do, but you knew you had no need to be. sherlock was a great boyfriend to you, strange as he was at times, but he loved you dearly—adored you, even—and he expressed his love for you in his own special way. even now, he was sat ramrod straight on the sofa next to you as the woman went on about her line of work and the brief specifics of this royal scandal; he looked dreadfully uncomfortable and like he wished he could be anywhere else, and you almost felt bad for him.

but, the little green monster of envy was clung to your shoulder and you just couldn’t shake it off, hard as you tried. what if sherlock would prefer someone more like irene adler? what if he desired someone more feminine, sensual, physically appealing? what if you weren’t enough for him, even after all this time?

as the other occupants of the room discussed the case and the mysterious code that would unlock the woman’s safe, you remained silent, only voicing your input when necessary. sure, it might have seemed a bit childish, but you couldn’t help it. you stayed hunched in your corner of the sofa and silently pondered your importance to sherlock and if he truly did love you once faced with someone much better.

an hour passed, full of more drama than you knew what to do with, and the woman escaped unscathed, off to slither away in the shadows of her secrets once again. you, john, and sherlock would be left to pick up the pieces and explain what happened to mycroft. oh great.

“do you not know me very well after all this time?” sherlock inquired from beside you.

“how do you mean?”

“do you really think that i’m interested in something like that? haven’t i shown you enough just how much i relish in your company without performing such acts?”

“well…” you fiddled with your fingers anxiously, not really expecting sherlock to have noticed your behavior from that afternoon, but of course he did.

“there’s no need to be jealous, my dear,” he said kindly. “i’m more than happy with you, in all aspects of our relationship, sexual or otherwise.”

“sherlock!” you whisper-shouted with a quick smack to his chest. “you’re really talking about that now? here?”

“if it’s upsetting you this much, yes. i’d rather clear the air now and assure you that my feelings for you and only you are genuine. is that not what you wanted to hear?”

“well—i mean… yeah, but—”

he stroked your cheek gently. “then rest assured, you are the only woman for me.”

you almost allowed yourself to sigh with relief, to tell that green monster to leave you be after sherlock had calmed your worries, but there was just one last thing on your mind that you couldn’t let go.

“how do you know her measurements after just meeting her and you don’t know mine?”

sherlock arched a brow at the sudden question. “what makes you think i don’t know yours?”

“…do you?”

the only response he gave was a mischievous curve to his lips. he then laid a gentle hand on the small of you back as he coaxed you to the cab waiting outside that would return the three of you to the comforts of 221b baker street.

later that evening as the two of you laid in bed, sherlock leaned over to trail open-mouthed kisses down your throat and smoothly cupped your breast beneath the thin material of your sleep shirt as he murmured your exact measurements in your ear. sly bastard.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes fic #sherlock holmes fanfic #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock fic #bbc sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock fanfiction #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #requested

[densi-mber]

A Gesture of my Affection

A/N: You know I had to do it.

***

“Is this Martin Atticus Deeks?”

“Yes,” Deeks replied, instantly on alert at the sound of his full name over the phone. “Who is this?”

“I’m Charles Westhaven of Westhaven and Moore Financial,” the man explained. “I’m calling in reference to your account—”

“Sorry to interrupt you, but I don’t have any accounts with your company. I never have.”

“Well, unfortunately, our records show that you do. If you wish to close it out, you’ll have to come down to our office and fill out some forms.”

“All right, when can I come?” Deeks asked, hoping this wasn’t some plot that ended in him getting kidnapped.

***

Deeks arrived at the Westhaven and Moore Financial building Monday morning. He was ushered into an office almost immediately, by Charles Westhaven himself.

“I’m afraid I got you under slightly false pretenses,” he said once Deeks was seated in a deep cushioned chair.

“Oh here we go,” Deeks muttered. He glanced around for a possible weapon, eyeing the stapler and heavy ceramic paperweight on Westhaven’s Deeks.

“The account I mentioned is actually a trust in your name,” Westhaven continued, oblivious to Deeks’ plans. “Initiated by Anatoli Kirkin.”

“Excuse me?” Deeks said, startled out of his scheming. Anatoli Kirkin has been dead for more than two years.”

“Yes, I’m aware. A few years before he passed, Mr. Kirkin started the fund. He added to it regularly until his death, and it’s been accruing interest the entire time.”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Yes, it can be overwhelming to suddenly come into so much money,” Westhaven agreed, apparently mistaking the source of Deeks’ disbelief. “I understand you’re an attorney, but I do want to make certain you know the terms of this trust. Today we’ll sign the forms to make you the custodian of the trust. You may withdraw a specified amount each fiscal year and the rest is to remain until any and all of your children attend a higher institution.”

“Woah, woah, woah, back up a step,” Deeks said, holding up a hand. “So, not only did Kirkin set up a fund in my name, but he also included my children? I didn’t even have any kids when he passed.”

“Mr. Kirkin wanted any children you should have to be well-provided for. He thought you might have some difficulty accepting his other bequests, which is why he set up the account in this way.”

“Yeah, no. That makes perfect sense.”

Westhaven smiled sympathetically. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ll give you a few moments to consider everything while I retrieve the paperwork and the the safety deposit box Mr. Kirkin left in our care for you.”

“Of course there’s a safety deposit box,” Deeks sighed, rubbing his temples.

***

“So, what do we do with this?” Kensi asked, staring at the financial papers Deeks brought home from Westhaven and Moore.

Deeks, Kensi, and Rosa sat around the coffee table, discussing the latest development in the Anatoli Kirkin Saga.

“I have no idea.”

“I mean, this is technically dirty money, right?”

“Almost certainly,” Deeks confirmed. He shook his head, thinking back to the various shenanigans Kirkin had gotten into. “You know, I came to…like that odd little man, as disturbing and as obsessive as he could be, but damn if he isn’t still causing me problems from beyond the grave. Wasn’t leaving me his empire enough?”

“His empire?” Rosa repeated. “What does that mean?”

“After Kirkin died, he left Deeks all his criminal ventures. In the process, his employees abducted Deeks,” Kensi explained.

“Oh mi dios. And you liked this man?”

“It was more of a love-hate relationship. More love on Kirkin’s side.” Deeks cleared his throat. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Why don’t you open the box,” Kensi suggested, gesturing to the safety deposit box displayed in the very center of the table.

Deeks hadn’t dared open it in front of Westhaven after Kirkin’s past “gifts”. He eyes it dubiously, hesitating with the keys in one hand. Drawing in a deep breath, he grabbed the box, inserted both keys and gingerly lifted the lid.

Inside were several items, a thick envelope on the very top. Deeks took that out first, breaking the wax seal—even in death, Kirkin was over-the-top—and pulling out multiple sheets of thick paper.

“My Dear Marty,

I hope this letter finds you well. As always, your interests have been of the most importance to me. You may not agree with some of my methods, such as when I attempted to rescue you on the morning of your wedding (an act fully borne of love).

“Oh good lord,” Deeks groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and then ruffling his hair. “If Kirkin actually pops out at some point, I’m leaving.”

“He tried to stop your wedding,” Rosa said, turning to Deeks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Kensi confirmed wryly. “He held a lot of affection for Deeks. It all started in a bathhouse.”

“Moving on!” Deeks said, clearing his throat again to drown out any details Kensi might slip.

He skimmed over the parts of the letter detailing Kirkin’s fond memories of said bathhouse and other moments Deeks would rather forget.

“As an extension, I wish to provide for your family in some way. Your lovely Kensi and any future children that may bless your home.

Please accept these resources as a token of my affection.

Anatoli Kirkin”

P.S. I have also included a few more keepsakes.

“Whelp, that tracks,” Deeks commented, folding the letter back up and jamming it back into the envelope.

“Oh, I bet I know what at least one of these is,” Kensi said with far too much glee for Deeks’ liking.

“Ok, calm down.” He paused to give her a look, and she pressed her lips together, adopting a suitably abashed expression. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the box again and started sifting through the remaining contents.

The next packet contained five medals emblazoned with the patron saint of children. “I guess Kirkin assumed we’d have a big family.” He handed one to Rosa, who accepted it with a smile.

“That’s sweet. What else is there.”

“Uh, some jewelry, a lifetime subscription to a bathhouse—lovely, and—damn it,” he grumbled, trying to conceal the final item, but Kensi was too fast. She snatched it out of his hand, grinning at the small framed painting.

“Oh my god, yes! This is perfect,” she said.

As far as Kirkin portraits went it was fairly benign and in good taste. Starting at mid-shoulder, the image of Deeks looked head-on, head slightly cocked, and a content smile playing at his lips.

“Is that a picture of you, Marty?” Rosa leaned forward to get a better look.

“Yes, yes it is, Rosa.”

“It’s actually very good. I wonder who drew it.”

“We don’t need to delve into that at all.” Deeks shook his head firmly, futilely trying to take it from Kensi.

“Wait, I think I see a tiny A and K,” Rosa continued. She looked at Deeks with a curious expression, one brow raised. “So this man drew a portrait of you?”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Kensi said in the undertone. She gave Deeks a sly look, raising an eyebrow. “At least this one is suitable for mixed company.”

“I think I need to hear this bathhouse story,” Rosa decided.

“Someone shoot me, please,” Deeks begged. “And don’t even think of adding that to your collection,” he added to Kensi, who hastily slipped the portrait out of her pocket.

***

A/N: As always, rest in peace to Kirkin and Ravil Isyanov who portrayed him.

This story contains elements of canon as well as references to details created for other stories of mine.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Rosa #anatoli kirkin #humor #ncis la #post series finale #densimber day 6 #by ejzah

[chickenstrangers]

@waitmyturtles sent me a lovely ask that tumblr decided to eat right when I was working on a response. The ask was essentially:

We have been reminiscing a lot recently about He's Coming to Me as you have been making gifs for it. What are your top 3 shows, besides He's Coming to Me, that you feel nostalgia for at any given time, and why? What draws you to them? [apologies if I have misremembered anything]

Thank you for the question! It sent me into a bit of a philosophical debate over the nature of nostalgia and if I feel nostalgia for any of these dramas at all.

For me, nostalgia is very rooted in the sense that the past cannot be returned to, or cannot be returned to in the same way. Of course, every rewatch of a show is a different experience and changes your interpretation of and feelings towards the text. But I watched so many of these shows fairly recently, relatively, and most of them I didn't watch live. I feel nostalgia for shows I watched many many years ago, because I am a very different person than I was and my interpretations and taste has definitely changed. Even though I still love my favorite shows from 10 years ago, for instance, and have rewatched and still truly enjoyed them, it is a fundamentally different experience to when I watched them then, and I can never return to that time.

This could be interpreted also as which show I wish I could watch again for the first time, but I also have a hard time with that. For all of my favorite shows, I only started to truly, deeply love them on rewatch. So maybe I am nostalgic for my second watch of shows. Perhaps the only show I would say I'm nostalgic for the first time I watched is Eternal Yesterday, because I do think watching it will be very different the next time because the experience of suspecting but not knowing with certainty what the ending would be was a very important aspect of how I watched and interpreted it, and it put me so viscerally in Mitsuru's experience of denial and anticipatory grief.

Then, of course, there are shows for which the watching experience itself has shifted, for me most notably GMMTV shows moving to Viki. Despite My School President being in my top 3 favorite shows, the change of medium has perhaps dissuaded me from rewatching so far. And once Bad Buddy moves, the fan lore which is often so tied to episodes and specifically parts of episodes will be lost to some extent. I am fascinated generally in how the medium of the text changes the interpretation and experience (see for example the original serialization of Dracula, then most commonly read as single book, and now re-serialized with Dracula Daily).

People talk a lot in tags about missing shows or characters, and I appreciate the sentiment, but again is not something I fully feel myself. I don't miss Moonlight Chicken, or Jim and Wen, because I think about the show all the time, it lives in my heart. I also know that I can rewatch the show at any time and they will be there, the same as they were before. Fandom tends to move very quickly these days, which is understandable with the amount of shows there are, but sometimes I feel I haven't gotten the memo that I am also supposed to move on. I love seeing people in my old fandom returning to or discovering a decades old show and sharing their love for it, making content for it still. Perhaps that is why I most enjoy making gifs and writing meta for "older" shows like Moonlight Chicken, Bad Buddy, Kieta Hatsukoi, or He's Coming to Me.

TLDR; to answer your question, after way too long a ramble, perhaps Bad Buddy (also spurred on by your and @ranchthoughts' rewatches that are making me itch to rewatch), My School President, and Eternal Yesterday?

#also i am mad that tumblr deleted the ask because you called me chickenfriend and that wordplay tickled me #asked and answered #waitmyturtles #rambling rambles