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primatechnosynthpop · 9 months

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If You Push Them Too Hard, They're Going To Break

Part 1

It all started with Mel.

She ran up to them on the street one day grinning like they'd never seen before, wearing a multicoloured poofy dress that looked like it belonged to a princess in a fantasy story. The whole outfit was bedazzled with dozens of shiny pink hearts. The most prominent of these hearts was a gemstone on her breast, with little wings on it and frilly white ribbon surrounding it like a valentine. In one hand she carried a giant hammer like it weighed nothing. She showed up looking like that and had the audacity to ask with a coy giggle,

"So... do you notice anything different about me?"

"...Yeah," Bret said, confused and a bit unnerved as he looked her up and down. Her getup was a lot to take in. "You've got new clothes and a big hammer."

"Sure, there's that, but anything else?" She set the hammer down and fluffed up her hair, which was decorated with a cutesy ornament, all without taking her glimmering eyes and wolfish grin off of them for a second. "Do I seem more beautiful or anything? Like maybe you're suddenly seeing me in a whole new light, having feelings you never would have anticipated...?"

"No, not really," Bret said honestly.

"I see you in the new light of having a giant hammer," Jemaine put in. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's a bit odd."

The look of shock that flashed across Mel's face was actually jarring. She froze in place with her hands still playing with her hair, and after a second that seemed to stretch on for at least five, her breath audibly quickened and her eyes began flicking back and forth between them as if searching for something that wasn't there.

"B-but you've gotta feel something towards me now, right, guys?" she asked, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. "Something you never felt before like, say, uncontrollable maddening love?"

Without thinking better of it, Bret and Jemaine made faces of disgust and shook their heads at that.

"No, not at all."

"And the rule about us not dating married fans still stands, by the way, so..."

"...Oh..."

Mel's whole body had visibly deflated, and her voice along with it, as her sigh was quiet and resigned. The fairy tale dress dissolved off her in a dull shimmer, leaving her in her usual street clothes. She muttered a reluctant goodbye to them, turned around, and trudged back to the car where Doug was waiting for her. Bret and Jemaine just watched, not sure whether to be more dumbfounded by the magically disappearing clothes and hammer or by Mel voluntarily ending an interaction with them so quickly. They weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so when she gave up and left them alone they only stood there pondering the strangeness of it all for a few seconds before shrugging and carrying on their way.

That meant they didn't hear the conversation Mel had upon climbing into the car and slamming the door. Doug turned to her to offer a sympathetic comment, but it was one of many moments where her husband may as well not have existed-- no, her attention was on the furry white alien blinking innocently at her from the backseat.

"You tricked me," she snarled through the tears that were pressing against her eyes. "You said my wish would come true, and I wished for Jemaine and Bret to fall madly in love with me, and they haven't!"

She punctuated the accusation by giving the seatbelt a sharp tug down to fasten it. Kyubey just licked its paw, unbothered.

"But that's not what I wanted!" Mel's voice broke into a choked sob as she dug her nails into the upholstery. "It should have been obvious that I was talking about my favourite band ever, not some random guys I don't even know."

"If she wanted someone else to substitute for Bret and Jemaine, she's already got me for that," Doug put in wryly, in a poorly timed attempt to lighten the mood a little. He couldn't even see Kyubey, and would have thought his wife had finally had a complete mental break having these one-sided conversations if it wasn't for the fact that she had magic powers now.

Pointedly ignoring her husband's remark, Mel slumped back in her seat and said in a quiet voice thick with tears, "And what do you mean I don't have enough potential to make them fall in love with me? They could love me... they probably already do deep down and just-- just can't admit it..."

She trailed off, feeble words giving into a sad little hiccup. She didn't even believe what she was saying. If she really thought her idols already felt that way about her, she wouldn't have needed to make a wish. But to think she had a chance, a real chance to get everything she wanted, only to have it ripped away from her... it made her want to curse Kyubey for tricking her, curse Bret and Jemaine for not loving her, curse Doug for not being them. She wanted to curse everyone.

"Ugh, I feel terrible," she sniffed. Her hands clenched at her sides, one of them around her soul gem. "Doug, can you drive me downtown? I sensed a witch there earlier. I need to fight to blow off some steam."

Kyubey watched idly from the backseat. It said nothing about the dark blotches dancing across Mel's soul gem until they blotted out the pink. After all, she hadn't asked.

The next time Flight of the Conchords had a gig, Mel wasn't in attendance, which meant nobody was in attendance. The gig after that was an unwilling charity stint (Murray made it sound like they were going to get paid) at a hospital cafeteria. Mel wasn't there either. Partway through that one, a teenager with bandaged hands got up, threw a music player at them with an enraged shout, and stormed out. The sharp corner of the music player happened to hit Bret right in the eye, and he was temporarily without depth perception for the rest of the performance.

Later that evening, while Bret pressed an icepack to his eye and Jemaine turned up the volume on the tv to drown out his whining about how much it hurt, their door rattled and Eugene came in holding a squirming white catlike creature under one arm.

"I'm just doing a little animal control," the landlord said. He held the cat-ish thing up by its scruff and waved it around in their direction. "I found this roaming around the halls. Is it either of yours? You know you're not supposed to have pets here."

"No, it's not ours," Jemaine told him. "We couldn't afford to look after a pet, Bret--" He said that rather pointedly, and Bret pouted because the goldfish thing was one time. "Besides, I'm allergic to cats."

"It's really cute, though," Bret said. He straightened up from his anguished lounging position and lowered the ice pack from his eye so he could get a better look at it. "I'm not sure it is a cat, even. It looks odd. I wonder what breed it is."

Eugene shrugged, not seeming like he cared much. "Well, I've asked around, and you're the first ones who've been able to see that I'm holding anything. So, even if you say it's not yours, I think it might be yours now." He swung him arm back like he was bowling and tossed the little animal toward them. It let him do so without resistance. "Be sure to have it out of your apartment by next week, or I'm gonna have to charge you for it. Oh, and don't forget, your rent's due on Thursday."

Jemaine flinched when their landlord threw the cat. He scrambled backward across the couch to its far corner, knocking the remote to the floor and rudely jostling Bret in the process. Bret glared at him. But Jemaine's reaction was (mostly) justified-- it was a severe allergy. If cat fur got within five feet of him, his face would start to swell up and his throat would constrict. At least that's what he always said would happen. He'd made sure not to go within five feet of a cat for as long as he could remember.

Lucky for him, the creature landed neatly on all fours a good distance from the couch. It stared up at them with a pair of gleaming red eyes that sent a shiver down Jemaine's spine. Cat allergy or not-- and looking at it up close, he had the inclination that Bret was right and this wasn't a cat at all-- this thing was just creepy. It felt like it was staring right at his soul.

Bret, meanwhile, practically radiated excitement and delight. He hopped off the couch, all eye pain forgotten, and held out his hands, making little kissy noises to lure the creature over. It complied, trotting daintily to his feet and rubbing up against his ankles. Jemaine hoisted himself precariously onto the back of the couch to keep as much space between himself and the animal as possible while Bret cooed at it and scratched it behind the ears.

"We're not keeping it, Bret." Jemaine's voice held a warning tone. "It probably belongs to someone else in the building anyway. Wouldn't be right to steal a creepy mutant cat from someone."

"Aw, I know, I know," Bret said in a voice that didn't sound like he knew at all. Jemaine wasn't convinced that Bret had considered a single ramification in his life. "I wonder who you belong to," he addressed the animal, which had now rolled over onto its back for belly rubs.

To his surprise and Jemaine's abject terror, the animal responded, not out loud but with telepathy. <Your landlord was mistaken. I'm known as Kyubey, and despite my appearance, I am not a domesticated animal.>

"Woah, you talk?" Bret asked. "That's amazing. I've never met a real animal that talked before. I've only seen them in cartoons. And there's parrots, but I've never met one in real life."

"What, you're from space?" Jemaine asked warily.

"Have you met David Bowie?" Bret asked.

<I have met many notable figures in human history. In fact, many of them owe their achievements to making contracts with me.> Now that the conversation was getting serious, Kyubey stopped rolling around and sat up to face Bret. Jemaine didn't move from the top of the couch and remained tense. <Although the two of you are not the demographic I normally approach, I have been branching out more lately, and you two seem like your lives could benefit from my assistance.>

"What's a mutant space cat going to help us out with?" Jemaine muttered. "I don't suppose you're going to offer us a record deal."

"Wait, really?" Bret asked, incredulous. His head was already spinning from the fact that this adorable ball of fur was from space and had met Bowie, and now it was saying they could actually become famous? That sounded way too good to be true.

<Yes, really. Of course, the wish comes as part of a contract. You would be granted magical power in exchange for being tasked with fighting witches.>

At this point, Jemaine slid slowly off the back of the couch and to the floor, if only because staying up there was getting uncomfortable. He edged toward Kyubey, still tense, and cringing in anticipation of an allergic reaction that never came. At this point it was obvious they weren't dealing with a cat here. But what exactly they were dealing with, he was still unsure.

"Aren't witches the ones with magical powers?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "I think you're mixing it up. If we get magical powers, then we'd become witches. Why would witches fight other witches?"

The long tendrils hanging down from Kyubey's ears pricked with what might have been alarm, only to relax again as it gave an uncannily humanlike shake of its head. <You misunderstand. Witches are not magical humans, but rather monsters born from curses and despair. They feed on humans, and only those who've made contracts with me can defeat them.>

"Ah, is that so?" Jemaine muttered. He had a hard time wrapping his head around that. "I don't know that I want to be tasked with fighting witches. We're already quite busy with our band."

"We're not really," Bret interjected. Most of what Kyubey had just said had gone in one ear and out the other for him, because he was still caught up in the novelty of having a cute talking animal offering them a wish. "We've got loads of free time."

"Yes, but we like to spend that free time doing what we like," Jemaine shot back. "Like sitting down and watching tv and sleeping. And band practice."

"What kind of wishes did you say you could grant again?" Bret asked, pointedly ignoring his bandmate.

"Wow, did you hear that? Anything our heart desires, Jemaine."

"Yes, Bret, I heard. In my head and not my ears, which is where I like to hear things."

"So you could make us rich and famous, then."

"Or get us girlfriends."

"Or a new cup so we don't have to keep using Jemaine's roster."

While Bret carried on animatedly chatting with Kyubey, Jemaine crossed his arms with a huff and turned away. Obviously Bret wasn't going to listen to reason here. If Bret wanted to sign away his free time to hunting witches in exchange for a wish, fine. (Not fine at all, actually, but it didn't look like he'd be able to stop him at this rate.) But Jemaine refused to be dragged into it.

"Okay, item one... Bret, stop fiddling with that and pay attention."

"Mm?" Blinking, Bret glanced up from the egg-shaped gem he was turning over in his hands. It was a warm reddish-brown hue, and had the emblem of an ambiguous animal head at the top. "Oh, sorry, Murray."

Murray sighed in exasperation. He opened his mouth looking like he was going to chide Bret only to break off into a gasp, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Oh! Bret, is that a soul gem?"

"Yeah, it is," he said with a smile, pleasantly surprised that their manager knew what a soul gem was. He held it up so Murray could get a better look at it. "'S pretty cool, huh?"

"How do you know what a soul gem is?" Jemaine asked, leaning back in his seat warily with his arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. "Have you met Kyubey before?"

Murray's eyes darted around the office as if to check if anyone was listening in, tongue flicking anxiously around his mouth. "Well, I haven't told you this before-- we're supposed to keep it a secret from ordinary humans, so I'm told--" He leaned in towards Bret, dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. Jemaine leaned forward so he could hear too. "But I've been a magical girl for a while now."

"You have?"

"Yes, for over a month!" Murray grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. Sure enough, now that they looked, there was a ring on his finger with a dull yellow-orange gem set into it. "It's been tricky balancing that on top of my other jobs, but it's important work."

"Is that why we've had even fewer gigs than usual?" Jemaine asked. "Because you've been too busy running around hunting witches to manage us properly?"

"I just said it's important work, Jemaine!" Murray told him sternly. "Stopping innocent people from being lured into labyrinths and devoured takes priority over managing a band."

"What did you wish for?" Bret asked, leaning forward with interest.

Murray leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, I can't tell you that, can I? You know what they say, if you tell someone your wish it won't come true."

Just then, Kyubey trotted in from seemingly nowhere and jumped up onto Murray's desk. Bret brightened at its unexpected presence. Jemaine shuddered and pushed his chair as far from the desk as he could get until his back was pressed against the wall.

"Oh. Well, then, I'll tell you," Murray said. "I wished to cure Toby's hip dysplasia. He's good as new now."

Neither Bret nor Jemaine had remembered Murray somberly telling them about his dog's medical condition a couple months ago. Bret nodded like he knew what he was talking about anyway, though the vacant look in his eyes gave away that he didn't. Jemaine didn't bother with the pretense and just sulked.

"You could've wished for us to get more gigs."

Murray frowned. "Not everything is about you, Jemaine. You know how important Toby is to me, and I couldn't afford to pay for his medical bills since Shelly cut me off from the joint account again."

"You could have wished to fix your marriage, maybe," Bret suggested helpfully.

"Yes, well, what's done is done," Murray said in the brisk clipped tone of someone who realized just that morning that he could have made a wish like that and was trying very hard not to let it haunt him. "How about you, Bret?" he asked to change the subject. "What did old Kyubey do for you, eh?"

As soon as he asked, Jemaine tilted his head back and buried his face in his hands to muffle a groan of pained exasperation. Every time he remembered what Bret had wished for a few days prior, he wanted to beat either his bandmate's head or his own into a wall.

"I wished that I could breathe in outer space," Bret said proudly, like it was a really clever thing he'd come up with.

Murray's brow crinkled. "Breathe in space? What for?"

"Well, you know, Kyubey mentioned how he'd met Bowie--" Bret angled his head toward the alien in question-- "And it got me thinking, if I ever want to go out there and meet him too, I'd better take precautions in case my helmet comes off."

"I told you David Bowie doesn't actually live in outer space," Jemaine grumbled through his hands. "And even if he did, how would we get up there? We're not astronauts. We haven't got a spaceship."

"Well, maybe that could be your wish," Bret suggested. "For us to have a spaceship."

"Absolutely not. I'm not going to make a contract, for one--"

"Aw, but you should."

"I'm not, and even if I did, it wouldn't be to help you out of a problem you created."

While the band bickered, Murray took a moment to look over his schedule. He'd started putting his magical girl notes on the same pages as his band notes to conserve paper, and while he didn't have any gigs or other good news lined up for the guys, he had sensed a few witches and familiars in the area lately. Maybe he could distract them from the lack of band-related prospects by turning this band meeting into more of a magical girl meeting.

"How about this, guys?" he piped up, tapping a pen against his schedule where he'd written some info on a familiar he'd spotted roaming about recently. "We go on a witch hunt together. That would be exciting, mm?"

"I don't--" Jemaine started to say, but Murray carried on without letting him get a word in.

"Tonight, then. It's settled. Bret, we can see how powerful you are, see if maybe I can give you some veteran tips from one magical girl to another--" Bret's brow furrowed at that, because a little over a month didn't sound like much of a veteran to him, and he didn't care for being called a magical girl anyway-- "And Jemaine, maybe you'll be inspired to make a contract too. Imagine that-- a novelty band made up entirely of magical girls! That would draw in a crowd, eh, guys?"

Bret screwed his lips to the side and contemplated the idea, doubtful. Jemaine didn't bother pointing out that most people didn't know magical girls existed. Or that the term "magical girls" usually applied to girls and not adult men. Sometimes when Murray got onto something you just had to go along with it.

The park was cold and empty at night. The steel frames of a children's slide and swingset gave off an eerie silver glow in the moonlight. A motion-activated streetlight flickered on as the three figures making their way down the cobblestone path stepped beneath its halo. There was a missing poster taped to the streetlight, but the light it cast was too dim to make out the face, and they weren't paying attention to it anyway. No, they were paying attention to the strange entity buzzing in circles high above their heads.

"I don't think this is a witch."

Murray paused with his soul gem raised halfway up in the air, about to transform. He cast a glare over his shoulder at Jemaine, who hung several paces back with his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, Jemaine, I've about had it with you and your negative attitude today."

"He's right, though," Bret pointed out. He was standing closer to Murray, also ready to transform-- or at least he had been, but now he was having second thoughts. "It's a familiar. They feel different when you sense them compared to witches."

"You said you were going to hunt a witch," Jemaine said. "This isn't a witch. It's not going to drop a grief seed."

"Right, well... I don't suppose you realize this, but there are plenty of other magical girls in this city, and they can be very territorial," Murray told them. He didn't say as much, but he'd found that out the hard way by being repeatedly attacked by some extremely aggressive teenage girls over the last month. "They're all after the same witches. But if we hunt familiars we can still save lives without getting wrapped up in any nasty competition."

"But I won't be able to purify my soul gem," Bret said, regarding the gem in question with a pout. Its glow was only ever-so-slightly diluted since all he'd done with his magic so far was transform and detransform a few times and, much to Jemaine's chagrin, fire off some practice shots with his weapon. "We need grief seeds for that. Kyubey explained it all the other day."

"Well, Bret, if you don't want to take part in this hunt then you can go stand and watch with Jemaine over there," Murray told him with a curt wave of his head. Then, dropping into a somewhat wobbly defensive stance: "Ah, here comes the familiar now!"

Sure enough, a dull buzzing in the air grew louder and a scribbly-looking black mass swooped towards them. It was about half the size of a person, with knives and forks protruding from within it with all the pointy bits sticking out and yet dripping an inky ichor as though it had been stabbed. It gave off an odour halfway between tobacco and an ambiguous alcohol.

Jemaine took a few extra steps back at its approach, eyes widening and eyebrows raising, with a flat but emphatic "woah." Bret, who had sensed the presence of witches and familiars throughout the city since contracting but hadn't felt like getting into fights with them, had a more subdued reaction but similarly ducked out of the way. He didn't want to waste his magic on a fight that he wouldn't get anything out of.

Murray tossed his soul gem in the air, and in a shower of sparkles and ribbons his magical girl outfit took shape around him. And yes, despite none of them being girls by any measure, anyone who saw the getup had to admit that magical girl was the only term for it. The top was mottled green and looked like an army uniform aside from the cute little ribbons in place of buttons, and he had a matching cap with some feathery decals sticking out of it. On his chest, his soul gem gleamed like a medal of honour. His skirt was black and businesslike without much frill, but it was still a skirt, which was a little startling to see their manager in. Finally, a pair of knee-high army boots tied off with ribbons wound themselves around his legs, and a pirate's cutlass manifested in his hand.

With the transformation complete, he wasted no time leaping forward and jabbing his blade at the attacking familiar. Steel ground against steel as his weapon slotted neatly between two tines of one of the forks. From the sidelines, Bret frowned in concern and Jemaine shook his head in disapproval. This already wasn't looking good. But Murray, who had refused to give up on the band he was managing despite never finding much success and rarely receiving any gratitude for his efforts, certainly wasn't going to give up now. He pulled his sword back and lunged again, this time aiming for the roiling shadows that lay between the cutlery.

To his elation, he just managed to nick the familiar. It screeched and flew into the air. He tried to follow its trajectory from there, but it moved too fast.

"Murray," Jemaine called, frame tense with more anxiety over their manager's wellbeing than he would have admitted to feeling. "Look out, it's--"

Before he could finish that sentence, the familiar slammed into Murray from behind. At least a half-dozen knives and forks drove into Murray's back, sending blood spurting out and staining his uniform. Jemaine cringed and leaned even further away despite already being well out of the splash zone. Bret gasped. Almost unconsciously he transformed in a burst of sparkles. A wooden bow decorated with the animal emblem from his soul gem shimmered into existence in his hand.

Murray staggered, vision swimming and tinged with red. He took a gasping breath and it got stuck in his throat. Blood dribbled out of his mouth when he coughed and ran down his chin, staining his beard. No doubt Bret and Jemaine thought he'd go into a hysterical panic or completely shut down. Maybe they were even expecting him to keel over right then and there. And yes, alright, the first few times something like this had happened that may have been exactly how he responded. But he was the senior magical girl here. He had to be professional and set a good example for the guys.

While Murray swayed on his feet and tried to convince himself that this wasn't really so bad, Bret notched an arrow and drew back the string on his bow. He squeezed one eye shut and pursed his lips in concentration. Jemaine watched him from the corner of his eye, breathing fast and not quite believing what he was seeing. How was Bret so calm about this? He'd only been a magical girl for a few days. This was his first actual fight. And the familiar was still hovering right behind Murray, ready to strike again. There was a very good chance Bret's arrow would miss the target altogether and impale their manager. Especially since, from what he'd seen so far, Bret wasn't a very good shot.

Bret's heart pounded in his ears. He barely managed to keep his breathing deep and mostly even, though he couldn't stop it from coming in and out quicker than usual. His fingers trembled against the arrow as he lined up the shot. He'd practiced with this weapon a few times in their flat, and it hadn't gone particularly well. But Murray needed his help. He swallowed hard, and though steeling his nerves would only do so much for his accuracy, his hands grew steadier as he pulled the string back as far as it could go. He glanced at Jemaine over his shoulder in a silent message: Stand back. The last thing he wanted was Jemaine getting in the way, especially if things went wrong.

Luckily, Jemaine didn't have to be told. By this point he was so far away from the streetlight that Murray was battling under that he was almost at a completely different streetlight several metres down the path. Satisfied that his friend was a safe distance away, Bret released the string.

The familiar launched itself into the sky as the arrow flew toward it, but the arrow was magic, so it arced upwards like a homing missile to follow the target. When it connected, a bright flash of light burst forth. The familiar screeched, a truly grating sound, and when the light cleared it looked like a chunk of it had been scooped out or dissolved. Hissing, it zeroed in on Bret. He fired another arrow, and while the familiar dodged taking another hit head-on, it did knock loose a couple of knives which skittered to the ground and then crumbled away. Bret probably could have fired off a third shot if he stood his ground, but he didn't want to risk it. He dove to the side and rolled out of the way. Jemaine, who was left standing directly in the enraged familiar's path, barked out an indignant exclamation at Bret's abandonment.

Meanwhile, Murray had managed to pull himself together. Funny thing about being a magical girl-- injuries didn't hurt as much. In fact, if you just turned part of your brain off they didn't hurt at all. He righted himself and charged towards the familiar with a battle cry that made it pause in midair before it could reach Jemaine. Jumping as high in the air as he could manage (which was much higher than it was before he made a contract) Murray clasped the scabbard of his blade with both hands and drove it into the familiar from above.

The familiar had put up a good fight for what it was, but it was only a familiar, after all, not a full witch. And Bret had already weakened it considerably. Its unstable form surged and crackled in the wake of Murray's precision strike, dribbling its drug-scented ichor onto the ground and making the pavement sizzle where it landed. Finally, it imploded. Cutlery fell in a shower, creating a clatter that drowned out the thud of Murray's boots landing him firmly on the ground.

Jemaine, who had been about three seconds away from getting eviscerated, toppled backwards onto the ground as his knees gave out. Adrenaline kicked in too late to do anything useful, leaving his heart pounding and chest heaving to catch his breath. His eyes, blown wide from stress, flickered over to the patch of grass where Bret had landed. Upon seeing his friend sitting up and picking leaves out of his hair with a pout, Jemaine relaxed. He wasn't hurt, but he was humiliated-- good on both accounts. Served him right.

"I could've gotten killed just now," he grumbled as he got to his feet. "It's a magical girl's job to protect ordinary humans, isn't it? Not jump out of the way and leave them to be run through with cutlery."

"Sorry, man," Bret said with a shrug. At the very least he actually sounded apologetic, but it wasn't enough to dispel Jemaine's annoyance or make him want to go on any more witch hunts with him anytime soon. "It was coming right at me. I got scared."

The soft woosh of magic from a few feet away caught their ears, and they turned in unison to see Murray holding his soul gem in cupped hands with his eyes shut and his face pinched in concentration. A warm orange glow surrounded him. When it faded, the strain of pain was gone from his face and his posture seemed more natural. The blood vanished from his clothes when he detransformed, but a bit remained matting his beard.

"Are you alright, Murray?" Bret asked cautiously.

"Oh, you boys don't need to worry about me," he replied cheerfully. "Healing magic is my specialty. I can fix myself up in the blink of an eye!"

Bret and Jemaine exchanged an apprehensive glance. Murray said that, but his whole body was still trembling. He must have been in shock. And the surface of his soul gem was tinted notably darker than it was when they headed out. For their first time on a witch hunt (not actually a witch hunt), this didn't bode well.

Part 2

#hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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miabrown007 · 1 year

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a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take

#my google calendar and Carl bot (and my friends) have been kind enough to inform me today was the estimated posting date of heist au #suffice to say that is not happening #it would have been rad to make a habit out of the co-occurrence of starting a new job and starting to post a finished WIP but alas #that will not be happening for a while longer #I have no idea when will I find the time for writing between two jobs and the big bang but. we'll work something out.#but hey it's good to give your projects breathing space so your brain can do the work in the background and solve the problems for you #I'll probably need to go back and revamp the whole last chapter I've been working on #but I'm still too sick and jet lagged and sick to be thinking about that so I'll consume some more media in the meantime #and complain about how bad the fic I'm listening to is. like god it's supposed to be so romantic and cute and he's literally #depriving her bodily autonomy and her friends support him I want to leave a strongly worded comment so bad #I will not be doing that but god it's so awful I should have stopped listening to this fic long ago. so that's a lesson learned.#put the fucking fic down there's plenty of stuff that's going to be better #hot take I sure no one saw coming sometimes things that are popular are actually bad #anyway have some stream of fucking consciousness /ref to another fic I'm fighting hard to keep discontinued #I know I won't like it why is this so hard #heist au should have been posted today based on maths btw. maths I did wrong for the first time which means it should have been posted #a year ago really #not like I have the proper structure to do a heist au daily #but it would have been fun to post the first chapter on the exact day it takes place. idk just for flavour #does all this make any sense? hardly. this is a diary entry and my two braincells are firing random thoughts at each other #that's fine though. it's all fine. here have some popcorn to go with all this nonsense 🍿🍿🍿 <3 #(and also all the drama in the new shadow and bone season. ugh it's so good I love Wesper SO. MUCH. or just Waylan. and Nikolai.#he's my blorbo assigned at first relevant information. relavant information: he's my friend's blorbo #but gods he's so my type it's scary. of course I'll have him as my blorbo. of course of course!#*puts him on a shelf next to Adrien Draco and Hunter*#*steps back to think before putting Waylan there too and sitting Zuko on the far end*#war crimes look so good on them :3 #miaing #heist au

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longroadstonowhere · 2 years

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i need to find/get a new story notebook sooner rather than later

(i have two and a half pages left in the current notebook, which sounds like a lot until you realize just how messy a writer i am)

#didn't even realize i'd used that many pages writing during the shows last weekend #(which yeah like most folks i find it easier to write when there's something else i kinda have to do but it doesn't take full attention)#(dunno if this is a most folks thing or an adhd thing that's almost an overlapping venn circle on tumblr it feels like sometimes)#anyway point is i should go through my stuff tomorrow and see if i have a notebook with empty pages for fics #because i don't like just getting a journal and only writing fic stuff in it #my current notebook was my math and science notebook from like seventh grade #eighth grade maybe? i can't remember when i did chemistry #think that was eighth grade actually #anyway point is this journal starts with the formula for finding the slope of a straight line so you know #it's a little old #oh hey there's a page on bernoulli's principle in here!#knew i knew it for a reason #this is why i love having notebooks with multiple things in it i get to rediscover stuff while flipping through #anyway dunno if anyone's missed my tag essays but this is certainly a doozy

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uncaught-coolfish · 9 months

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every time I see a media that portrays a victim of any sort of abuse only as this uwu, meek and palatable (note here:palatable) person who is never allowed to be empowered by the plot and instead is used as a device for others to “protect” or benefit off of in character development, the more the statement of “siIent hiII 2 has one of the best depictions of an abuse victim in any media period” becomes truer

#uncaught-coolfish #that game is overall really strongly written but every scene with angela is just fucking gutting.#now you might know what this is vaguing. and. you’re technically right but this is about a lot of broad stuff #anyways. go like watch a vid on sh especially 2 it is soooo unbelievably good like I can’t even describe it #easily top like 3 favorite games in terms of writing atmosphere etc and EASILY the best horror Game like. objectively /j #and this mainly goes for victims who r women because uh. yeah. male victims get jack shit in media rep ive realized #either that or they’re automatically EVIL VICTIM BAD VICTIM FUCKED UP TWISTED VICTI oh hey rvvby………….#THE ONLY GUY I CAN THINK OF IS FUCKING….. ZUK0 ACTUALLY. OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. sorry for jacking off avatar but sometimes you gotta milk #………did not mean to put milk. sorry. not sorry sorry. bye

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maniculum · 7 months

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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

#medieval #medieval creatures #medieval art #scorpions #medieval scorpions #manuscript #medieval manuscripts #illuminated manuscript

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deadbydad-writes · 3 months

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Professor! Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcanons

Sorry I've been gone for so long, school and family stuff happened and yeah, but I'm back! And, I have a gift! There isn't enough of Professor Miguel O'Hara tbh

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had went up to you after class, asking you why you were failing your Spanish tests and why you weren't doing well on your work.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had offered to privately tutor you himself, offering to give you lessons after school and even on the weekends if possible

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had invited you to study there on the weekends, saying that it was better for him to help you there instead of some old boring classroom

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who you started to have catch feelings for, noticing how bigger he was compared to you but he was always gentle with you

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had eyed your body after sometime, admiring how you acted around him and how much you had improved with your Spanish.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who started to give you small kisses on your cheek, forehead, neck and shoulders whenever you passed a quiz or finished your work on time.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had you laid out on his own bed, his lips pressed against yours and his fingers buried deep inside your dripping cunt after you went to his house to show him your grade in his class.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had one hand gripping your waist, his palm warm against your skin as he had your legs around his own waist.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who whispered sweet praises and promises in your ear as he gripped the headboard of his bed as he fucked his large cock into your tight pussy, making you moan and squirm underneath him in pleasure.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who kissed and nibbled on your neck, saying that he would put his baby in you, mark you as his own, telling you how beautiful you would look with your belly all round and full and your tits swollen with milk.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who fucked you until you came on his cock, screaming his name as you arched your back off the bed and your nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who filled you up with his cum until you felt it drip out of you and down your thighs, whining in discomfort as he pulled out.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who cleaned the mess up with his tongue, coaxing you into another orgasm as he lapped at your soaked folds, a grin on his face as he pulled himself away from in-between your thighs.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who bathed and cleaned you, dressed you in a set of new clean panties and one of his shirts, admiring how big it was on you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who wrapped his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he placed his hands on your stomach, whispering in your ear how good of a mommy you were gonna be and how well he would treat you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who held you close and watched you fall asleep in his arms, kissing your forehead as he too drifted off to sleep.

How did I do on this? Please let me know in the comments, and hey should I do a part two of this?

If you have any suggestions, for if there is gonna be a next part to this, then please do tell me in my inbox! I would love to hear some ideas from you guys!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this! I love you guys, and I'm so excited to be writing again!

Also, here is a link to this list!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #smut writing

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moonlitnyx · 5 months

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𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒…𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒?!?

Your boyfriend absolutely spoils you. But hey, whats so wrong with that?

ft. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, MALLEUS DRACONIA, VIL SCHOENHEIT, DEUCE SPADE x GN READER

content. TOTALLY SFW, fluff, there isn't any nsfw i did a pun in the title (do u get it) reader could be seen as yuu

notes. Reader is so lucky to get spoiled i wanna get spoiled not fair not fair-also, new fic layout!! Hope u like it...also I listened to MAGNOLIA by Gang of Youths while writing this and bro its such a good song stfu

ft. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Leona leans back on the carseat, arm resting on the back of your seat as he lets out a sigh as you show him your newest haul that you had gotten from the store using his credit card, mind you. You grin toothily, the backseat of his car filled with an astronomical amount of bags that make even him rethink his decisions.

"At this rate, you just might make a prince of Sunset Savannah go bankrupt." He eyes you wearily. "How does someone like you need all of this stuff?" He says the words without malice-no, instead filled with pure confusion.

"Ohhhh c'mon, you're a prince! You should know a lil' luxury is essential for happiness in life!" You exclaim, and Leona looks at you with skepticism.

He shakes his head, amused. "Okay, okay. Stop lookin' at me with those eyes or I might just buy you a whole mall next." He grins, sharp canines poking out.

"OMG, maybe I can do your hair now that I got new hair products!"

"Don't push it," He drawls. "I haven't forgotten the last time you 'did my hair' and I ended up with pigtails."

"Not my fault you looked so cute with pigtails! Look I even have it on my phones home screen-"

ft. MALLEUS DRACONIA

"My love, I would buy you the world if it meant seeing you grin like that."

He smiles as he places the delicate chain on your neck, paired with a pendant of a wilted rose studded with rubies and emeralds. He had meticulously picked it, he had told you with a small, almost shy smile.

"You shouldn't have, Malleus." You ears are red, flustered just thinking about how adorably sweet Malleus is. "You keep getting me things that I don't even have time to give you a thank you gift."

"Nothing is more precious a gift than your happiness," He murmurs, planting a chaste kiss on your temple. You giggle at his words.

"Your such a sap. Sometimes your a full 180 when your talking with Leona," You say, amused.

"Kingscholar is a brat." His green eyes are filled with annoyance at the thought of Leona, and you snicker.

"Maybe he thinks the same 'bout you." You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks utterly exasperated. "C'mon, lets go get ice cream!"

Malleus' mood instantaneously lightens. "Ice cream?" His voice is filled with a childish excitement, and you nod, a grin plastered on your face.

"It'll be my treat, this time."

ft. VIL SCHOENHEIT

"Liebling, please buy at least something." Vil frowns as he stares at your hands, which, too his dismay, don't hold any shopping bags, not even food.

"I don't need anything, plus I feel guilty that I'm leeching off of you." You shrug, and Vil's purple eyes are filled with concern before he scoffs.

"Mein Liebling," my darling, "You're not "leeching off" of me." He lets out a soft smile, and pinches your cheek, which leads you to let out an indignant "ow!" and a cackle from Vil.

"What's the point of being successful if I can't spoil you?" He clicks his tongue, before glaring at you. You know he's just upset that you're thinking bad about yourself, and it made your heart skip a beat. Most thought that Vil Schoenheit was a stuck-up, rude, controlling snob, but really he just was showing his care for those he loved.

"'m sorry, Vil." You let out a smile, and Vil sighs in relief. "But, if you''re going to spoil me, then I get the right to spoil you too!"

"If you must," Vil waves his hand. "Whatever makes you happy."

ft. DEUCE SPADE

Deuce knows that he can't compare much with his friends and seniors when it comes to education or being rich, but Deuce knows that he doesn't need to be rich to spoil you.

It's the small acts, him giving you half of his lunch when you cant afford one yourself, helping you study while also horribly struggling himself, giving you small gifts that remind him of you.

Today was like any other, with both you and Deuce banging your heads on the table as you study for Trein's newest test.

"You're a real one, Deuce." Your voice is muffled as you rest your forehead on the wooden table. "When I asked Ace for help he sad that his tutor fee's were "twenty dollars an hour"! He's such a scam," you grumble.

Deuce looks up, a smile on his face. "No problem. I thought it would be cool if we both got A's and showed off to Ace." You laugh at that.

You nod. "Let's wipe that smirk off Ace's face!"

©moonlitnyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

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lambertdiary · 6 months

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NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it

A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

After A Bad Day

Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother.

The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.

He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.

“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.

“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.

“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”

“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”

“I can imagine”

She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”

“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”

“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”

“Did she eat her dinner?”

“I tried my best but you know her”

“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.

“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.

“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”

“What happened?”

Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”

“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”

“It was a misunderstanding”

“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”

She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”

“Y- yeah”

“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.

He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.

She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.

He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.

After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.

“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”

“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.

A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.

He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick.

A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”

She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.

The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release.

It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.

“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”

She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.

He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.

One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could.

Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.

She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.

Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.

He swallowed hard before answering “Yes”

“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”

He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.

“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”

She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.

Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.

He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body.

She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.

With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.

He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall.

They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.

“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.

He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.

“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.

He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her.

By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.

“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”

Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure.

His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.

When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body.

“Good job” She whispered into his ear.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fic #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf movie x reader #josh hutcherson

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primatechnosynthpop · 8 months

Text

Incredibly silly self-indulgent oneshot that I let marinate in my drafts for approximately one thousand years. Bonjour monsieur puppy woof woof

As if the whole falling down a well situation wasn't strange enough already, now there was a man with dog ears. A beautiful man, really, although Jemaine typically pretended not to notice such things. But he was in the middle of the woods with nobody else around, and the beautiful dog-eared man wasn't going to judge him because, if the arrow sticking out of his chest and pinning him to the tree was any indication, he was probably dead. That was a shame. Jemaine had been hoping he could find someone to ask for directions.

---

When he took a step closer, the beautiful probably-dead dog-man's ears twitched. Oh. So maybe he wasn't that dead after all. Fighting back a sudden thrumming sensation in his chest, Jemaine stepped up onto the roots that wound around the pinned figure and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me... sir? Do you know how I could get back to Wellington from here?"

"Mmn..." Now it was the dog-man's nose that twitched. The nose was less noticeable than the ears, but it was dotted with black, again like the face of a dog. Without opening his eyes, he murmured a name. "Coco? 'S that you?"

"Er, no, sorry."

"Why'd you go and shoot me with that arrow, Coco? I thought we had a good thing going on..."

"Well, as I just said, I'm not Coco. This conversation doesn't really seem to be going anywhere, so..."

He shuffled back a step, only to lose his footing on the roots and almost fall. Quick as day, a hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, catching his fall. He blinked, startled, up at the now fully awake dog-man before him. The dog-man returned the expression with equal shock.

"Oh, wow, you're not Coco at all," he said. "Funny--you smell just like her."

"Do I?" Jemaine asked skeptically. He couldn't imagine smelling that similar to a lady. It wasn't like he wore perfume, or... jewelry... or whatever else women did.

"Well, you mostly smell like her," the man pinned to the tree went on with a shrug. "Maybe a bit worse."

Jemaine's face scrunched in offense. "Hey."

"But if you smell like her, maybe you've got the same priestess powers. Maybe you could pull this arrow out and break the spell."

"Ah, yes, there's an idea," Jemaine mused, nodding. "If I do that, could you help me get back to Wellington?"

To his great disappointment, the dog-man pursed his lips and shrugged. "Dunno. I don't think I know where that is."

"You don't know where Wellington is?"

"Well, I dunno about the -ington part. But there's a well a little ways back that way." He angled his head in the direction Jemaine had come.

"Yes, I know about the well. I fell through it and ended up here. I'm looking for the Clemaine family shrine."

"Oh, a shrine. So you are a priestess like Coco, then--or a priest, I guess, since you're a man."

"No, I'm not either of those things. I'm a university student." He gestured to his uniform, now tattered thanks to his tumble through the well and subsequent tromp through the forest, as a visual aid.

"University student..." the dog-man echoed, sounding like he didn't know what Jemaine was talking about but was too polite to say as much. After a beat he brightened and extended a hand in greeting. "I'm Bret."

Jemaine's eyebrows raised a little at that--it was a rather ordinary name for a man with dog ears pinned to a tree in the middle of the forest. No last name? he wanted to ask but didn't. Instead he returned Bret's handshake and introduced himself in turn. But even while they were shaking hands, his eyes kept drifting back to those ears. Something tugged at his core, a stupid impulse that he tried desperately to ignore, but it was just so maddening...

"Are the ears real?"

"Yeah, they're real."

Jemaine licked his lips anxiously, hands twitching at his sides. "Can I... touch them?"

Bret recoiled, dog nose wrinkling. "No way. That would be gay."

"It wouldn't be gay," Jemaine argued. "It's not gay when you're petting your dog and you touch their ears."

"I'm not a dog, though," said Bret defensively, drawing himself up as much he could with the arrow in his chest holding him in place against the tree. "I'm a man!"

"You've got the ears of a dog."

"Well, I'm a half demon."

"Ah, yes, a half demon," Jemaine echoed, nodding. "That explains it."

That explained absolutely nothing. It made things far more confusing, actually. Was this how Bret felt when he brought up Wellington and university?

"Maybe if I just touch your ears," he pressed on without even knowing why he was so set on doing this, "And not any other part of you, that wouldn't be gay. I'd only be touching the dog bits and not the man bits."

"...Maybe," Bret relented. He leaned his head down, slightly floppy fuzzy brown ears exposed among his curls. "But be gentle with them."

"Of course."

Trying to ignore the way his heart sped up, Jemaine put his hands gently around the dog ears, fingers against the furry side and pad of the thumb against the soft pink middle. He rubbed lightly at them, making them sort of twitch up and down. A little noise escaped from Bret. It sounded suspiciously like a whimper, which was itself quite doglike, really. Jemaine pulled back, afraid he'd been too rough and equally worried that the whimper had another meaning behind it that he didn't want to unpack.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Bret turned his head away as far as he could, which wasn't very much with all the giant roots winding around and boxing him in. "...Don't worry about it. Just hurry up and get me down."

Nodding, Jemaine hesitantly closed his hand around the shaft of the arrow. It had clearly been weathered with age, suggesting that Bret had been up there for a while despite still being perfectly healthy. A bright purple light flared up when he touched it. Jemaine flinched at the glare and threw his other arm up over his face to shield himself. He had no idea how he was supposed to pull an arrow out of someone safely, especially not without being able to see what he was doing, and he had just opened his mouth to voice that complaint when the arrow crumbled. The glow faded, and his hand closed around empty air.

"What, is that it?" he asked incredulously.

Bret nodded, an eager smile creeping onto his face. Jemaine hadn't noticed before, but his complexion had been a little washed-out; now the colour crept back into his cheeks and a renewed energy seemed to roll off him in waves. The roots that were holding him in place began to rapidly rot.

"Yeah, that's it. Thanks, man."

"That wasn't hard at all," Jemaine pointed out as he gingerly made his way down the quickly crumbling roots, tripping over himself and catching himself against the tree in the process. "You said only someone with magic powers could do it. That didn't take magic powers. You could've gotten yourself down ages ago."

Bret pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, I couldn't. I was asleep until you showed up. And only someone with the same powers as Coco could get one of her arrows out."

"Well, I don't have any magical powers," Jemaine said, deliberately ignoring what had happened with that centipede monster in the well a few minutes earlier to get him to this forest in the first place. "So maybe you just should have tried harder."

By this point all the roots had rotted away to dust like the arrow before them. Bret hopped to the ground, briefly landing on all fours before springing back up to a standing position, and shook himself out. Jemaine took a couple steps back to avoid being hit with residue, but there wasn't any. After doing a couple stretches and flexing a set of claw-tipped fingers, Bret sniffed at the air a little more and made a little "hm" noise.

"No, you've definitely got magic," he said. "I smell it on you."

"Do I?" Jemaine asked cautiously. "...How's it smell?"

"Nice, I guess. Sort of invigorating."

A bit of heat crept into Jemaine's cheeks at that. "I thought you said you didn't like my smell."

"No, it's not bad at all. It's just, y'know, Coco is pretty hard to beat..."

"Oh yeah? What's she smell like?"

"Herbs, mostly. And magic. A lot like you."

"I don't smell like herbs."

"Not yet, but if you're training to become a priest..."

"I told you I'm not a priest. Or training to become one."

Almost without realizing, the two had begun to walk along in tandem as they bantered, away from the tree and back towards the old well Jemaine had climbed out of mere minutes before. Though they didn't realize it yet (at least Bret didn't; Jemaine suspected but didn't want to admit it) this day would change the whole course of their lives going forward. In fact, it would change their whole worlds.

#when i said mashing these guys up with anime comes naturally to me i truly meant it #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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jarofstyles · 16 days

Text

Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

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Send requests here

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

————-

The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

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mrsrdlw · 2 months

Text

The “first date”

summary: After figuring out you liked each other, you and Eddie started dating. Your first interaction wasn’t the way he planned, so he decided to take you out on a proper date.

warnings: MDNI 18+; virgin!reader; fluff; some nerdy references (star wars troop); oral!fem!receiving; shitty writing- sorry about that.

author’s note: Hey guys, i saw how much everyone enjoyed Eddie’s Valentine story so i decided to make a second part. It took me longer then i thought to post this, but my classes at college just started so i’m still adjusting my schedule.

After what happened, you spent the rest of the morning talking in bed. You couldn't believe you actually got the courage to make a move on him. Even if it was to offer a little help with his "issue". And this was one of the many things that surprised you today. The fact that Eddie liked you back was insane. In your mind, Eddie only saw you as a girl friend. A girl he could talk about everything and nothing. Of course sometimes you caught him looking at you in was different way, but you didn't want to get delusional.

And for Eddie, he was meaning to make a move on you since he realized he was head over heels for you. But he honestly thought you would say it was way too weird to be with him this way. In a romantic way. But what is best then dating your best friend. The only thing that changed was the intimacy of things. So that's why he'd never said anything. Till this day.

"How come both of us liked each other but never did anything?" Eddie asked with one arm under his head and the other wrapped around your waist. You were laying on his chest, listening to his heart beating. You don't know how to feel about this yet. Forty minutes ago, you were still "just friends". And now you're all over each other.

"I guess i was just so scared to lose my best friend that I stayed quiet. It was better to have you in that way than not having you at all." You were being honest with yourself and with him, trying to figure it out why have you kept these feelings as a secret.

"Well i'm glad you released your horny devil today" That made you laugh and he joined you. "But to be honest, it's not how i imagined."

"What do you mean?" You got up on your elbows to see his face, a little scared from his confession. Didn't he just said that he liked it?

"I actually imagined that i would have the guts to ask you out and take you in a very nice date. Very romantic. And then, after the normal stuff normal people do, i could actually try to kiss you. But i guess we're not normal." With your eyes locked, he caressed your cheek.

"Yeah, here we start being naughty!" You said in a playful tone with a wicked grin that only made him laugh. You always loved his smile.

"I guess because we took things a little too fast, this is still kind of... unbelievable for me. Do you feel it too?" You asked, concerned you're the only one feeling this.

"Yeah. Kind of. It feels like it's a dream, right?" He asked and you nodded. "But i'm sure this is going to be as normal as last night was. It's just a matter of time. Also, just in case you didn’t realize it yet, you're my girlfriend now lady, you're stuck with me."

"Oh no! What am i gonna do?" You got out of his chest dramatically and he grabbed you again making you laugh

"Really sweetheart, i don't want you to think you'll have to act differently or anything like that. I don't want you to. I like you the way you are. All goofy and funny and sweet ." He said looking at your lips

"Look at you, all over me, aren't ya?" You said as if you weren't feeling the same

"Yeah, you got me."

After that day, you've been dating, and you couldn't be happier. You waited the whole week for saturday, which was the day of your first official date. That's how Eddie called it. Of course, he didn't want to forget what happened in that morning. But he wanted you to feel extra special. Not just some random girl.

So, he decided to take you to the drive in. This events normally happened at summer, but it was just what he wanted. Something simple, but romantic, where you two could spend time together, watching movies and maybe make out in the middle of it. It was a part of your routine together, watching movies. So, in his head, this would make you both very comfortable with the whole situation of the 'first date'.

He parked his van in front of your house right on time. He pressed the doorbell and there you were. With a cute sweater and a skirt. He loved when you wore skirts. It made your legs look so tempting.

"What do you think? Fancy enough for you mister?" You said looking down at your clothes.

"Oh my lady, you look very fancy. Come on, give me a twirl." You did it and, dramatic in his own way, he put his hand on his chest "You look amazing, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Eds" He always loved when you called him like that. Now, it was even more special.

He drove you both to the location. Even though there was a lot of cars in front of you, you had a great view of the screen. It was only ten minutes before the movie started, so he went to buy you some snacks and drinks to survive through the night. It was a marathon of star wars. The three movies. "A New Hope", "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi".

The sun was starting to set when he came back. His curls in the golden light just made him look more like an angel to you.

"Here you go. I'm pretty sure we can survive with this, but if you want more, just tell me, a'right?" He insisted on buying the food, not letting you pay for anything

"That's perfect, thanks!"

Through the first movie, you didn't say a word, trying to understand everything in the movie. You always found it very confusing. Alright, maybe you were containing yourself to not put your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

Eddie also stayed in silence, too anxious to do something and fuck up the night. It was not his thing, getting anxious about girls. It was actually something he was confident. But with you, was a whole different story. He wanted to be closer to you. He was trying to find a way to get you to stay closer to him without being desperate. So he started putting one hand in your thigh. Your warm skin contrasted with his cold hand. He didn't missed the way your eyes went wide the second he touched you.

They gave a break of ten minutes to start the second movie. Now it was dark outside.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? There is a big line there but i can go, if you want." He still had his hand on your tight.

"Yes, there is enough here." You assured him. You could see he was nervous. He’d made the first move… you could only follow his lead. "I'm just wondering here. This is a date, right?"

"Yes..."

"Don't you think this big space between us is useless? You can get closer Eddie." You said leaving his cheeks with the cutest shade of red

"I'm sorry, i didn't wanted to be too desperate" He said putting his arm around your shoulder and, without thinking too much, you placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie was in heaven. He had the girl of his dreams right by his side.

In the middle of the second movie you were still in the same position. You decided to move but, with the sudden shift, you exchanged looks. For the first time of the night, you were inches away from his lips. You couldn't help but want to kiss him so bad. Feeling the same as you, Eddie placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer until your lips met. His lips were soft. His scent invaded your nose.

Your kiss changed from passionate to desperate very quickly. Your hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere you could. In need to breathe, you separate. Panting in each other's mouth, Eddie hold your face with his both hands.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i think we can't stay this close. I can't hold myself." He said making you smile.

"I don't think we're going to be able to pay attention on the movie anymore." Giggling, you hold his hands. "What if i said that i don't want you to control yourself?"

He separated a bit more so he could look inside your eyes. His eyes were wide open, shocked.

"I know you wanted to be a gentleman and all, but i've been thinking about this for the whole week. And remember that little horny devil? He's greedy now. More than ever." You said pressing your tights together. You weren't lying. Since he said he was going to take you on a date, you've been expecting for all the things that could happen. And you wanted to.

He was speechless. It was cute.

"I know, maybe i'm being too excited about everything. But i want it and i thought that if i had to wait for you to make a move, we would do it on the seventh date or something" He giggled at that. You were right, he thought. He wanted that too. But he would never force you to do something he knows that you didn't have much experience and you could be a little insecure. He wanted you to feel safe. He finally said something.

"Are you sure? I told you, remember? We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially when we're in this kind of ‘first date’ situation where we feel like we have to do stuff." You kissed him again. All you wanted was him.

"I'm sure. You said yourself remember. We’re not like the normal couples."

"Really? You know, we're in a public place ma'am. You little perv." He said making you both laugh

"So... What are your moves, huh? Gonna do it here with my clothes on or you're going to take me to the back?" You pulled his shirt to you and kissed him again.

He took your hand and pulled you to the back of the van. There was some pillows and blankets on the back.

"You were planning to do this?" You asked getting closer to him again

"I was going to take you to stargaze, actually. But you turned me on now. We'll do it later, kay?" And he kissed you.

Your kiss, like before, was hot. Craving for each other's touch. You couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Two horny teenagers in the back of a van making out like your life depends on it. Your hands travel through his chest down to his lower belly, pulling his shirt up.

"I honestly don't believe you when you say to me you're a virgin" You giggle to his reaction but stoped immediately. With his shirt off, his bare torso was in front of you. The black ink contrasting with the pale skin. You could keep looking at him shirtless for hours. But you wanted something else.

He changed your positions and looked in your eyes one more time, asking for your permission. You give it to him not thinking twice. So he takes your sweater and skirt off, leaving you only with your underwear. Thank god i piked matching ones today, you think to yourself. He kept looking to the white cotton set you chose.

“They’re pretty cute” He said earning a slap from you. “Sorry. I meant it, though.”

Smiling at him, you pulled him closer again by his necklace hanging above you only to stop inches from his lips.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off and see how cute i am without any clothes?” You said proud of yourself for being this bold. His reaction was priceless.

His hands were caressing you carefully, every move with love and affection. With you naked in front of him, his instinct was to drown himself in your neck, your chest, belly. Kissing all over your skin, making you squirm. You could feel his body heat hovering over you. Too overwhelmed by his actions, you try to take his pants off. You needed him.

“Easy there. I think we have plenty of time sweetheart.” He said taking your hands in his. He only laughed at the way you pouted. “I want to make you feel good. So why don’t you lay here and relax?” He dropped your hands, not before kissing them, and went down on your body. “It’s the only thing i could do after what you did for me last week. You were so good.” His warm breath hovered your mound and you twitched.

Not wasting any more time, he licked your clit and you gasped. You’ve never got head before. This was a new different thing for you. But oh, how you loved it. You’ve only felt some kind of pleasure there by your own fingers. But the way Eddie’s tongue kept moving and twisting around, it was a new addiction to your list. Your hands were attached to the blanket under you. You were trying so hard to not let any sound slip from your lips.

“Does it feel good?” He changed his tongue for his fingers and smiled to see you struggling to keep quiet. Not able to speak, you only nodded. Deciding to push things a little bit, he thrust his tongue inside you and you couldn’t hold the moan that came from your throat. Eddie lost his mind. He grew his movements faster than before, wanting to hear that again. He was glad that you only let them out now, or he would’ve cum in his pants by then.

Everything was so good. His tongue and fingers on your pussy and his free hand pressing your hip down so you kept quiet in place. His burning gaze on you, his hair tickling your thighs. His hot breath coming out of his nose and hitting your mound. You couldn’t take it anymore. You stopped him and pulled him up. He was confused until you kissed him. You could feel your taste on his tongue and how his chin was wet by your own slick.

“I-I need you inside me” You said gasping for air. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his boxers. Your voice was hoarse by pleasure.

He took off his jeans and boxers, almost falling down. You giggled at his tongue poking out while he searched through his wallet for a condom. “I hope this is not in there for five years. You know, condoms can expire” You joke trying to act casual seeing his dick again.

“Ha ha, very funny missy.” His voice full of sarcasm only made you laugh. He was crawling his way up to you when you both heard it. Dart Vader’s imperial march was playing. Probably the last movie had just started. You cracked, laughing hard at the situation. You even forgot where you were.

“Who are we kidding, of course in our first time having sex, Dart Vader is going to be marching towards us. It’s your fault” He said playfully

“My fault?! Why?” You asked amused

“Because you’re goofy. There’s no other reason.” You looked inside his eyes. Both of you still smiling. You just had to squeeze his arm so he knew he could move. And that’s what he did.

Slowly, his ran his tip against your wet folds and thrusted inside you. You closed your eyes, feeling his length stretching you open. It burned, making tears swell up in your eyes. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. Giving you a few seconds to get accustomed to this new feeling, he caressed your waist, grounding you back to him.

He started to thrust slowly into you. It felt like your lungs were out of air. With each thrust of his hips, that started to get a rhythm. The muscles of his arms were flexed, his necklace was swinging, and the hands that before were caressing you, were now holding your hips for goddamn life.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. You watched every move of his. He looked amazing. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Eddie go faster. You were biting your lip but it wasn’t working anymore. If there was anyone around the van, they would probably hear your moans.

Eddie was also a mess. He wanted to freeze this moment in his mind forever. You looked perfect to him. The sounds you were making, his eyes were rolling back. Your boobs were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his. He looked down where your bodies met and saw the bulge in your lower belly, he didn’t know how long he would take.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” He pressed kisses on your neck. You weren’t able to talk, but you pulled his hair bringing him closer to you, if that was possible. He groaned feeling you clench around him. He could feel how close you were. Once again, he massaged your clit bringing you to the edge. “Come on princess, cum for me. Just let it go” and with that, you were gone.

“Fuck Eddie” Was the only thing you said.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie

You could only think of him. Your nails scratched his back, your feet pressing on his but so he could go even deeper. Your orgasm washed all over you. With you clenching impossibly tighter around him, Eddie was also gone, cumming hard, biting on your shoulder to control his grutal moans.

When your breathing went back to normal with time, he came out of you taking off his condom and laying by your side.

“You think the van bounced too much?” He said breaking the silence. You laughed at his silliness.

“No. Otherwise people would have come here to ruin everything.” You look at him but he was already looking at you. “They might’ve heard us, though.”

“Nah, they’re nerdy people. They’re probably fantasizing about princess Leia now.” As if if wasn’t a nerd too. “You want to get out of here and go stargazing” He said putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” You pecked him on the lips and got up to put your clothes back on.

And that’s how you wrap up the night. He drove you both to a place where you could see the stars. You kept talking and eating the rest of your candy from the movie. Your first date couldn’t be more perfect than that

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say.

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.

“A date?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”

“And you…don’t want to have sex.”

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

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harrysmimi · 11 months

Text

Cuddly Mood

Synopsis: One where Harry comes home from work to his girl being clingy. He ain't complaining.

More of my work

Harry had told his girl to not wait for him for dinner as he would be late, and that she should to go to bed. Basically not wait up for him as he got work.

He was working late at night on some new music. Not essentially planning to write a whole new album just yet, he just wanted to het these new out and into production and see how things go from there for him and his new future projects.

YN understood where he came from. She's an artist too after all. She sometimes want to spend all day and night, in her studio painting and work on this one piece of art which would not budge off her head until it was out. She's had those days and Harry's always been respectful and supportive of her.

But she wanted to be selfish today and hold him back and cuddle him all day. Well, she could barely bring herself to do that because he was so excited about this new song he had in his mind. Or melody? Or a rhythm? Or a beat? She doesn't quite know how music works.

This afternoon Harry got ready to leave for studio after he'd returned from gym, all showered up and dressed up. He wore a pair black washed jeans a simple white tshirt, which she likes to steal from him some times. He took a hoodie with him incase he's cold, which he always is at the studio.

He's been going to gym religiously now, so he's been more muscley and big, he's still his shy self which makes him like her giant human cuddle bear. Especially with his instincts of him wanting to hold her and make her feel safe. Oh boy, did that make her all mushy!

She just wanted cling on him all day and take a big fat nap. But she had to let him go for few hours.

But she still deserves his undivided attention, especially when he's back from a long tour and will be going back very soon.

She's a night owl, Harry knows it. So when he came back home to her place, he found her dusting her furniture around. She's like her cat, who likes to zoom around at three in the morning.

And it was three in the morning when he came back!

"Hi, angel!" He chirps as he locked the door behind him. "What are you doing up so late baby?" Dropping his stuff on the sofa he walked upto her, snaking his arms around her tummy he pulled her close to him, placing a chaste of kisses on her neck and back of her head. She melted in his embrace.

Exactly what she craved all day!

"I'm not sleepy." She mumbled.

"You need to fix that sleep schedule of yours, angel, it's not healthy." He expressed his concerns, "no coffee for you after three in the afternoon!"

"Hey!" She whined.

"Yes!" He argued back. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

Harry was changing out of his clothes. He took off his hoodie and shirt, and got rid of his pants.

On rare nights his boxers and basketball shorts stayed on and today was one of them. His girl doesn't mind, there is nothing she haven't seen. He doesn't feel insecure around her anymore and does she, which is amazing!

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I have your hoodie?" She asked.

"Yeah, which one do you want baby?" He asked, changing into a different pair of boxers.

"The one you wore today?"

"Aren't you going to be hot, angel?" He enquired, because it was getting warmer and he doesn't want her to layer up.

"No, I'll just wear that and nothing underneath." She explained.

"You sure about that?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Mhmm."

"Alright strip down!" Harry smirked cheekily. He was all done dressing half decent, he took two strads towards where she was stood in the bathroom, applying her moisturiser.

Her sleep shirt caught onto her earrings as she was taking it off. "Ouch!"

"Be careful there!" He stepped in and carefully untangled the shirt from her earring. "You okay?"

"Yeah!" She nodded. Harry smiled and carefully pulled the neckhole of his hoodie (which is now both of theirs to share!) over her head, before his hands travelled behind her back to unhook her bra. He slipped his off but not before taking the opportunity to have a quick feel of her breasts, run his hands over her delicious tummy rolls towards her hips. "Stop it tickles!"

"Yeah?" He teased her, tickling her more under her breasts.

"Stop!" She laughed holding onto his wrists tightly. He stopped and helped her put her arms through the sleeves.

"My favourite!" He commented on her wearing her "cute set" of underwear, which were a pair of pastel green granny panties with french fries on them.

They're adorable okay!

"Stop tickling me, I've missed you enough all day!" She pouted feeling his hands wander down to her bum, trying his best to tickle her.

He gasped, "I need to make up for it, don't I?" With that he threw her over his shoulder as he brought her back out to their room and carefully placed her on their shared bed. "Why didn't you call me then if you missed me so much?"

"I did not felt like wanting to disturb you while you worked." She explained as he peppered her face with sloppy and wet kisses.

"You can never disturb me!" He exclaimed quietly, "could have worked on that song later. Next time just tell me, okay? I'd prefer to spend time with you!"

"Mhmm! I will." She agreed, "now kiss me?"

"Gladly!" With that he placed his mouth on hers, giving her a tender kiss. "I've missed you too today! Wrote a song about you and us."

"You did?" She was so surprised even though he tells her when a song is inspired by her. It still manages to surprise her, thinking she can be a muse to someone's art when it's always been the other way around for her. He always finds new things about to sing in his songs.

Where as he's always been muse of her art!

"Yeah, wrote about how much I love you, and how I wanna be with you for as long as you want me!"

"I want you forever!"

"Forever, yeah?" He rested his forehead on hers.

The next few minutes he spent talking about the song and loving on her until she fell asleep, snuggled close to his bare chest.

He'd never enjoyed being a big spoon in his life!

......................................................................

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jupitermelichios · 1 year

Text

Hey, we need to talk about the way Batfamily fans write Cass using ASL, because a lot of it is really fucking ableist

But Cass can't speak, of course she needs to sign!

Not true! There is nothing physically wrong with Cass's vocal chords or mouth, there's nothing in her brain stopping her from making sounds, and she is not an elective mute. She actually learns to speak individual words really quickly after she puts herself into an environment where that's a useful skill. Basil teaches her to quote huge chunks of Shakespeare in Nu52, and that's easier for her than forming simple sentences. That would definitely not be the case if she had any physical limitations on her speech.

Cass's disability is that she was not taught any language, and so she is having to grok the entire concept of language from the ground up. Grammar and syntax; tonality; how to combine words to convey more complex ideas; how putting two words next to one another can change their meaning; how to break down a whole idea into the individual parts needed to turn it into words; the fact that people's words might not line up with their tone and body language so you have to pay attention to both; how to tell if someone wants a response or is stating a fact; how to work out meaning from context if a word is new or someone has an unfamiliar accent; how to know if someone is using a new word or if they actually just have an unfamilar accent and all the ways words can be bent and changed before they become something new; the fact that two words can use the same sounds but have the same meaning; the fact that there can be two different words that mean the same thing. This is all stuff she didn't learn as a baby, and not knowing it would be just as much an impediment to learning ASL as learning English (for accent, swap out things like having limited movement in their hands, or having learned slightly different forms of the same sign, using a lot of home-signs etc, it's the same concept in a different medium).

There is no language on earth Cass wouldn't have these problems with. ASL is not any kind of shortcut.

But she reads body language, and ASL is kind of like body language right?

Not true, also pretty abelist! Just as the sounds which make up spoken language are essentially arbitrary (there's no objective reason why the sound "gud" should mean good, English speakers just all agree it does) so most of the signs in ASL are arbitrary! There's no reason for

to mean good. ASL users just all agree that it does. Cass knowing body language would not help her any more with ASL than it would with English, and if anything, it might make it harder, because sign uses the whole body and therefore changes the way people use body language so unless she saw a lot of ASL users as a child (and there's no particular reason to think she did), she would have to adjust what she knows about body language to account for those differences!

But she signs in the comics!

Nope! She uses hand gestures to communicate sometimes, but that's not signing. Pointing at food and miming eating to convey hunger is not sign. Pretending to punch someone and pulling it at the last second to convey you could hurt them but won't (Cass's actual first communication with Bruce in the comics) isn't signing. I've done the point and mime thing in countries where I didn't speak the language, that does not mean I knew that country's native sign language!

But she learns ballet, that's like a physical language, so sign is the same thing!

Nope! Also low key kinda abelist. Dance is a method of communication, but it isn't a full language. There's almost no grammar or sentence structure, the vocabulary is extremely limited, and also you can just make up new dance moves or use moves from different styles of dance together and still convey your meaning (you cannot just make random gestures or use BSL and expect ASL users to understand you, because they're full complex languages). Cass vibes with dance pretty hard, but that's precisely because it isn't a language, it doesn't require any of the skills she struggles with in order to communicate emotion.

But ASL isn't like a real language, it's not as complex or nuanced as spoken English so it would be easier for her to learn

That is so fucking gross I don't even want to have this conversation with you. Go and sit in the timeout box and think about what you've just said, and then commit to doing better.

But I just think that once she learned it, she'd like using ASL because [it's very expressive/she's used to her world being very quiet/she can use it on stealth missions more easily/etc]

Valid, understandable, have a lovely day

But I'm writing an AU were she uses ASL because her backstory is too comic-book-y to fit in no-capes AUs but I didn't want to erase her communication difficulties so I've written her as having a different disability

Cool. Send me a link when you're done.

But what if I write her using makatong?

(For context, makatong is a form of sign developed for people who have intellectual or phsyical disabilities that affect language use, which uses more descriptive signs which require less precise hand possitioning than other sign languages, and which has very simple grammar, making it easier to learn than ASL). Yes this would be easier for her, because it's intended for people with similar difficulties to hers, but since her difficulties stem purely from a lack of experience which can be (and are, in canon) overcome with practise, it would be kind of needlessly limiting compared to her just starting out with very simple spoken language, and wouldn't give her as many chances to develop those language learning skills. Makatong is also not mutually intelligable with any other sign language, so she couldn't easily transition from that to ASL once she got used to signing, she'd have to start learning it from scratch.

But I HC her as deaf

There is 0 comics evidence to support that, but it's a headcanon, so who cares. You do you. Have fun.

But learning sign language would be better than learning to speak anyway because it's a universal language!

That is not even slightly how it work. Go read the wikipedia article on sign languages around the world or something. Do some research.

TL:DR; Cass does not use ASL in the comics, and nothing about her disability or sign languages in general would make learning ASL easier or more convinent for her than spoken English. That does't mean writing her signing is inherently bad, but you should examine your reasons for doing it to ensure you're not just perpetuating ableist stereotypes about the language.

#cass cain #cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #asl #tw: ableism #black bat #batgirl #batgirls #orphan

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