#the way abby writes is literally so delicious to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deblklesb · 9 months

Note

CAN U PLSS WRITE MORE CAMGIRL or (pornstar 😜) ABBY AND READER IM BEGGING PLSSS

NO CUS i was actually (🤓☝🏾) planning to write a full oneshot about them BUT i guess I'll just throw stuff here and see where i get 🚶🏾‍♀️

(a/n: i'm writing this for like 3 hours now and this turned out to be a full oneshot i guess..... tell me if y'all want me to continue/post more of this au!! I'll tag "au camgirl!abby x camgirl!reader on both parts so y'all can find it)

[(MDNI), fluff, casual hanging out, descriptions of a explicit video, some sexual content later]

reblogs are highly appreciated!

After the first collaboration, the side of the internet that knew you both was set on fire. Your inbox was overflowing and you did the usual: stepped back a little until the notifications slowed down and you could answer messages or look over them to say stuff in the next casual livestream you did every two weeks.

But here is the thing: you couldn't get Abby out of your head. And you understood it wasn't like the other collaborations you did before, because later that day she actually texted you and on top of that you felt a different glee inside.

Abby: my inbox is so full I'll probably never be able to se all the messages

You: tell me about it! same here

Abby: i was actually stretching a little. think you marked by back forever with your nails (and they're not long)

You: sorry 😅

You: but hey... that's good, ppl will know how good you fucked me

Abby: i think ppl have a lil more than some scratches on my back to realize that

Abby: and i sure have those, a video, and some good sweet memories to get off

Maybe you'd become good friends, you thought. Abby was actually a very nice woman, funny and good to be around. You hoped you could keep in touch.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Oh my fucking God, Abby", you moaned with a sigh, eyes closed to properly enjoy that delicious sensation filling your body right now.

The way your body was feeling warm and almost too self-conscious about the things around.

All due to the tasteful hot chocolate making you almost alive again.

"Guess I can make you moan in other ways then", she smirked, getting a punch in the arm next. "Getting too bold for my taste", the blonde sat next to you on the bed, pulling the duvet to cover you both.

The rainy day was perfect to watch some movies and hang out lazily on the bed, and Abby immediately accepted your invitation. After a week or so just texting, you felt like you both could do some hanging out, right? (It had absolutely nothing to do with you craving being with her again)

"Oh right, why don't you come and put me in my place?", you chuckled, finally setting the TV.

"Honestly today it's too cold, let's watch the movie and see what happens later"

You hummed, two hands on the mug enjoying the heat spreading through your palms.

Abby was one of the most chill persons you'd known, and the moment was heartwarming and comfortable. After finishing the hot chocolates, you put the mugs on the side table. Then you widen your eyes with the feeling of a strong arm wrapping your waist, a strong body closer to yours as your face, for whatever reason, heats up.

"Is this okay?", her voice sounds good against your flesh, face resting on your chest. Abby is snuggling you and it feels good. Too good.

"Yeah, totally", you put your arm around her shoulders.

During the whole movie you keep caressing her hair and arm, trying to ignore the subtle turnings of your stomach - not literally, but that type of turns that goes up to your chest. Telling yourself it was probably the hot drink, and not the way her thumb kept making invisible patterns on your waist, or the strong muscles against yours and the domestic aurea of it all.

That night, after Abby left, you actually got off on the thought of her fucking you. But it wasn't memories that filled your mind or the vision of one of her videos. No, it was imagination. You'd imagine her getting home and kissing you, fucking you on the dinner table, saying how much she missed you and looking too needy for your touches against her while she makes you cum.

Maybe, just maybe, things were going another route.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

@/AAndrsnStuff • thinking about her (@/nsfwmenace)

You keep looking at the video playing on your screen and trying to rationalize the fact that you were tagged. She was actually talking about you.

In said midia, Abby was... Using her strap. And you knew that she was probably using the textured gadget that would rub against her pussy, on the base. On the bed, positioned in the direction of the strap, was a console in the shape of a vagina, and she was thrusting into it.

She was fucking a toy thinking about you. Hard and steady, making use of her athletic shape, hips moving in a way that made your legs clench together. Her breasts moved with the impact, an arm holding the console on place as the other rested on the headboard.

Her moans were so delicious to hear even on the phones, but were better when you remembered how they felt in person. Her breath was choppy and you just wanted to be there, under her, to pull her close and feel her all around you.

Inside your panties your core clenched around nothing. Your fingertips itched to touch her.

Before the end of the video, Abby stopped fucking the toy and loosen up the harness, strap falling on the bed before she starts rubbing her clit fast and needy. Her moans increase as she puts the other hand being her on the bed, sustaining the weight of her torso tilted back. And by the way she almost screams, her legs tremble and her abdomen contracts, you just know Abby was coming hard.

She was coming thinking about you.

"Fuck", you mumble, heartbeat fast and face warm.

Before leaving the app you look at a comment briefly.

wAIT wdym "thinking of her", you didn't use a strap on the collab video.......

That person was right, you didn't. There was no strap on the video posted by you both. But there was one when you both fucked a couple of weeks after.

And you keep thinking about that when you impulsively call her. And when you say "come here. The door will be open", before even letting her speak anything.

When Abby gets in your apartment, locking the door behind her, she immediately notices the light coming from your bedroom. She happily takes off the shoes and it's ready to, smirking, ask you how did you like the surprise. But she's caught off guard by a strangled moan, your moan, and the sound goes straight to her cunt.

If only you knew how she was going insane thinking about you. Looking at the nudes you shared and remembering how hot you felt around her fingers, her tongue, on top of her while riding her thigh, underneath her when taking her cock. You were so fucking warm and she was freezing away from you, hypnotized like a moth by the flame.

"Abby", and your voice, oh, your voice.

She woke up in the middle of the night, before recording that video, because she had the most vivid dream. You were next to her on bed, and somehow she just knew it was your shared bed, masturbating and calling for her. So fucking needy, looking gorgeous, and the way you called for her made her whole body shake. In the dream she had to keep looking and listening to you, admiring your features as you used a hand to massage you core.

But now she didn't had to lay down and wait. She could touch you in the better ways, and opening the door to reveal your figure humping a pillow and playing with your own nipples, Abby felt a deep desire burning inside. Something more than just attraction and need. The same thing she felt when, in the dream, something told her that bed belonged to the both of you.

Gulping, Abby sighed and remembered how good it felt to be with you watching movies. Simply hanging out and realizing she really enjoyed your company. She came to think, for some time, that your friendship would be so good... But after that dream something shifted, and seeing you in that moment started to solidify this change.

26 notes · View notes

deadqueernoldor · 4 months

Text

End of Year Fic Recs!

I got tagged by @camille-lachenille for this, and boy I havent had time to read fic in a hot minute but this was literally the perfect opportunity to go through my ao3 and tumblr bookmarks again! Also I feel really bad that I couldnt get 5 for the first 3 categories, so pls dont take it personal if I forgot. My tagging system is a mess and idk if it works but if you want more tumblr writing recs go into the "writing that has me foaming out the mouth like a rabid dog" tag I have at the top of my account.! There's so many good drabbles and ficlets i couldnt possibly name them all! Also i likely could have tagged other author's tumblr accs but i didn't feel like looking bc I'm exhausted. I love these all sm

Also I cheated with the self rec bc one is from 2022 but I didnt want to rec only my OC lol

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Beneath a Boundless Sky by @runawaymun — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Elrond’s two new wards both struggle to feel at home in Rivendell. The wounds from their slavery in King Frumgar’s court are still fresh, and the scars are deep -- and they’re not the only ones. Maglor is home at last, but each day he lives he is haunted by guilt and grief. Elrond is nothing if not patient, and he is certain that given enough time in Rivendell, all three will heal.

I am always frothing at the mouth at OCs and world building and this work *and the prev work/part 1 of the series* is SO good

dare you see a soul at the white heat? by millyfaraway — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Lómion is reembodied, but struggles to cope. His uncles try to help.

BABY BOY GETS FAMILY THERAPY ABBY BOY SLOWLY GETS CONFIDENCE AND PUPPY LOVE SOBBIG ITS WHAT HE DESERVES anyway go read

The Last Heir of Fëanor - Part Two by Astrance — 87k — Rating (T)

Summary: This is the second part of the tale of the surviving child of Celebrimbor of Eregion and how she fared through the Ages of the world. From the Fall of Ost-in-Edhil to Imladris and the vastness of Second Age Eriador, the fight against Sauron seems never ending. Plans have been set in motion across the Misty Mountains, but, in Lindon, many tasks await.

Have I mentioned how much I love OCs? This is literally one of the best OCs I've read, flaws and all, and the way the whole thing is written is chefs kiss. Cant decide if I'm sweating from the amount of sobbing I've done with this work *and the previous/first part* or because of the delicious angst.

and rain will make the flowers grow by @swanmaids — 800 — Rating (G)

Summary: Glorfindel and Idril; on the Helcaraxë, in Nevrast, in Gondolin.

THEM. THEM. THEM. That's all I have to say. bUT THEM!

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

your veins are empty of dust by @echo-bleu — 1.7k — Rating (G)

Summary: Anairë finds her late one day in her workshop, surrounded by slabs of stone larger than her. Nerdanel is hammering forcefully at one of them, the barest hints of an elven shape already taking form in the marble. Bitter, stinging tears run down her cheeks and into her collar, and her arms ache with exhaustion.

The body is only barely sketched, but the face is already chiselled, smooth curves and angular cheekbones.

Fëanáro emerges out of the marble, looking like he’s about to take life.

(Across the sea, her sons lead a funeral.)

Frothing. Gnawing. I love the writing. The angst. Fucking mourning. Gimme all and then hurt me some more.

Babysitting #01 by @lordgrimwing — more chaps likely, atm oneshot

Excerpt: "She brought her children."

"Who did?”

"That Elwing woman, the pro bono case Celegorm talked me into."

Modern!scenario fix with Exhausted!lawyer!maedhros. He's tired and that's very sexy of him. Maglor is secy. They all are. Idiots. But very sexy. Elrond and Elros best boys. No argument.

Dreams of Doom by @camille-lachenille — 3.8k — Rating (M)

Summary: “She runs in the dark, alone. Where her feet carry her, she knows not, and her heart is heavy with dread. Someone - something - is watching her.”

Niënor from the moment she arrives in Brethil to her death.

THE ANGST THE LOVE THE TENDERNES THE FORESHADOWING I AM BITING THIS BC I CANT FIND GLASS TO CHEW.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies.)

Those Peaceful Hours by SpaceWall — 3.9k — Rating (T)

Summary: At the end of the Third Age, faced with her impending return to the home she left before the sun, Galadriel seeks out the one person who will understand her fears and grief.

It's so well written and the premise as a whole is so great!. Compelling and Galadriel characterisation is just so very sexy to me.

Their oath will drive them, and yet betray them by musing_and_writing — 2.2k — Rating (G)

Summary: Elrond had hours to spare, and if Maglor wished to spend the short time they had together reminiscing, he would not blame him for it. As Maglor began singing, Elrond settled himself across the clearing in his own bed of autumn flowers. Maglor’s voice resounded in the clearing, clear and powerful, just as it had upon his fortress’s ramparts as he pushed back Morgoth’s forces with a Song, just as Elrond assumed it must have echoed before the poisoning of the Trees in his family’s halls as Feanor crafted his cursed jewels.

Hehehehehe cryptid mf with a heart I love it the angst the tenderness it's just so *holds gently* while also *bodychecks maglor*

Double The Baggins, Twice The Took by fogisbeautiful — 138.5k — Rating (T)

Summary: The Baggins twins, Briallen and Bilbo, have spent their whole lives taking care of each other. So when the world outside makes an (uninvited) appearance, only one thing is certain. Not for wizard or king or mountain or dragon will the two of them part. Not if they have one word to say about it.

And besides, as Gandalf points out: It never hurts to have a spare burglar on hand.

I'm a sucker for Thorin x hobbit, and you give me a fic with bilbo's sister who's so lovely characterized? I'll kiss you sloppy style

The One With All The Birds by clothonono — 46.5k — Rating (G)

Summary: Would it never end? Would there always be one more mother standing on the shore, looking out to sea, full of a grief made more terrible by hope?

Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

I think swanmaids recc'd this to me once upon the time when it hadn't been finished and I want to kiss their forehead for it. It's so good! Go read bc I lick my screen every time I re-read it.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Bitter end — 6.4k — Rating (T)

Summary: Maglor has one brother left.

Both have one more fight in them.

The ghost you dress up as (knows how to haunt) — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Maedhros was not the first Finwëan to be captured and taken to Angband, nor did he remain there the longest. Ranyatinwë, twin of Caranthir, was the first.

She escapes.

(Series) Old Maggie Took — 7 works — 402k — all Rating (G)

Summary: The headcanon about Maglor, second son of Fëanor, lives hidden in the Shire? Yes.

#tag game #here's the tag for even more tumblr fic recs #writing that has me foaming out the mouth like a rabid dog in a positive way #i hope it works somewhat bc its been a fucking pain to find it with how broke the system is #thank you for the tag besties!

9 notes · View notes

sephmonet · 1 year

Text

January’s Reading List

I promised myself that i would keep tabs on all the things I read this year, both on and off tumblr. Also - this shines light on some amazing authors that I’ve come across and don’t want to forget. If you’d rather not be tagged (because if you’re on this list, it means im legit reading every fic you pump out LMAO) please let me know!

This one is starting off mostly as a backlog, because I should’ve done this earlier... Oops.

also i can’t, for the life of me, ever recall fics off of the top of my head.

This is in no particular order other than what I can find off of my blog and my pc tabs - i have 3 million open at all times.

The Last of Us

abby love spell by @ohcaptains

This abby x reader fic is literally the first I’ve ever read because I def wasn’t an abby stan. This entire fic is perfection from head to toe, legit smutty perfection. The longing, the desperation, the banter is just so great and I can’t recommend this one enough.

miss sunshine by @nexusnyx

I’ve read a lot of Joel fics, being a longtime Joel lover. (Seriously, I’ve been in love with this man since I was 13.) This one is my all time favorite, hands down. I love the dynamic here, I love how the author takes the characterization of Joel miller and makes it better. I especially love that Sunshine is a nickname given to her by him and not Sarah.

Everything here is perfect for me. No qualms. I read it every couple of days.

Call of Duty (MWII)

yours to keep by @mvtthewmurdvck

In lieu of authors turning me onto characters that I never thought I’d like, this one is divine. Definitely helps that they accidentally used my actual nickname but, even without it, this fic is just so deliciously sexy and real. I could write paragraphs on how much I love this story.

Softly by @littleferal

This Rudy fic accompanies another two amazing fics, but this specifically highlights Rudy featuring a little bit of Ale. The Las Almas boys are so well done in this authors hands. They truly nailed how gentle and attentive a lover Rudy can be. The sugar and spice dynamic of Rudy and Ale is perfection here.

Simon Says & Daddy’s Home by @emomanswhore

For these to be their only two fucking fics on this site, holy shit.

Author came out that bitch SWINGING. I remember these two fics being the first real ghost x reader that I felt really strongly about because its the first time I ever really got into a reblogging stint. Ontop of a black coded and bratty!reader, Gods. These two stories keep my horny ass up at night. Point blank.

“its so hot when you talk back” by @gh0stswh0re

Speaking of smut that keeps me up at night.. this is some toe-curling stuff. I love brat tamer!Ghost so much. This author captures his filthy fucking mouth so well.

Untitled Konig Drabble by @luxuryberzatto

Listen... Between Konig and Price.. those two are fighting rn for White Boy of the Month for me. But this drabble??? I think i’d have to let Konig have the “Bear” title. Just this once.. author made him begging sound so sexy.

Her heart was the most Beautiful Thing I Ever Broke by @day0walker

This is an ongoing Price series that I just can’t wait to really dig into. I’ve read the first few chapters and, I have to say, Im afraid this might become one of my favorites for my main man. Perfect, so far, in every way. The banter is top tier.

Price’s Masterlist by @yeyinde

Literally feeds us so much. The Price girlies are forever in this authors favor. Everything they write for that man is so delicious, so fucking ambrosial that i’ll literally put down what Im doing to read what they’ve written for him.

Ghosts and Mirages Masterlist by @stararch4ngelqueen

Still ongoing series, but its so good. Nothing has fed me more than this series for Ghost right here. It’s quite literally a masterpiece. I’ve never felt more emotion for a series than this one right here. PERFECT.

Misc. Characters

Blossom Dearie by @nymphlamp

Carmy is SO good in this Authors hands. So perfect. This fic turned me into such a carmy girl that it isn’t even funny and I should actually go to a therapist about it. Such beautiful writing. Also another black coded!reader <3

Morning by @write-and-buried

This is a Dieter Bravo fic and.. Whew lord this, and the second part of it is sooooooo fucking hot. I still haven’t seen whatever movie this is yet but by Gods does this fic make me want to dive headfirst into it.

The Fire in Your Eyes Series by @flamehairedwritings

such a good series for Aurthur Morgan. So well fucking done with so many emotions. Beautiful and meaningful writing.

Off of Tumblr

Safe House by Alternate_Alien

Another ongoing price fic... but Bodyguard!Price dealing with a bratty!reader??? Cmooooon now. Its too good.

Lady of Rooksgrave Manor by Kathryn Moon

Reverse harems are such a guilty pleasure of mine. This turned me into a monster fucker.. Im not sorry.

#jan list #reading list #these authors live rent free in my mind #and i can do nothing but supply them with snacks and beverages

3 notes · View notes

heliotropehotch · 3 years

Text

Silver - a.h. x fem!reader

Request by @moonstuffsteve :If you’re taking requests, I’d love Hotch smut with a wedding ring kink where the cold metal gets you more worked up (maybe ft choking bc of the ring??) pls and thanks so much!!!!!!!!

a/n: AHHHH its my first smut for Aaron! (and first smut i've actually finished in years!) Al, i love you. Thank you for this. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve my writing please let me know! I haven't written smut in a long time so I know this might be rocky. <3

CW: smut, under 18 DNI, 18+, jealously, unwanted ass grabbing, wanted ass grabbing, choking, wedding ring kink?????, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, marriage kink??, dom/sub themes, possessiveness, fingering

Masterlist

author: abby<3

word count: 1919

have fun!

She hated cops. Entitled, jealous, and, for the most part, disgusting men, who thought well enough should be left alone. Meaning that, while help had been offered and given, it wasn’t wanted. What was wanted, however, seemed to deviate way too far off the course of the case, of the literal murders that were happening.

“Officer Walker,” Y/N’s teeth gritted out as sweetly as she could, as the man placed an unwelcome palm on the small of her back. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, sugar,” he chuckled deeply. “I was hoping you wanted to get out of here.”

“Out of here?” She pretended not to notice Agent Hotchner watching the interaction, slowing walking up behind him. “What do you mean, Officer?”

“I mean,” his hand swooped down, resting gently on her ass. Y/N’s eyes shot wide, mouth opening slightly with appall. “We should get out of here so we can have a little fun.”

“Excuse me-”

“Officer Walker,” Aaron Hotchner’s voice cut through the air of the precinct. “I suggest you take your hand off of my agent, and my wife.”

Walker’s hand shot off her body, smacking into his own side. “Your wife? Sir, I didn’t kn-”

“We have a case, Officer. There are people out there getting murdered. Get back to work. Agent, you’re needed in the conference room, please.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a straight face, but she knew her husband could read the smugness on her face.

“In the future, Officer Walker,” she called out before following Aaron. “At least check a woman’s hand before you make unwanted passes at them.”

Y/N sauntered almost cheerfully behind her husband stalking into the closed conference room. She could hear the gears turning forcefully in his head, and could clearly see his hand clenching and relaxing at his side. Entering the conference room, tension seeping into the air, confining itself in the room as Aaron forcefully shut the door behind them.

“Aaron-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, fingers smoothing out his eyebrows. “I was fine until his moved his fucking hand-”

She reached out to grab his arms, trailing down to intertwine their fingers together. “Honey,” she smiled sweetly. “I know, okay. I appreciate it, okay. But I had it handled too.”

“I should have him fired-”

“But you won’t,” she laughed softly. “If you fired every man who made a pass at me, we wouldn’t ever work with cops again.”

He grumbled indignantly, scrunching his eyes together in irritation. Y/N slipped her hands up his chest, sliding into their natural place at his jaw. Her lips pressed to his, seeping tension seeping out of him with every passing second. “Aaron,” she hummed against his lips, before pulling away. She smiled as his chased after. “I married you, remember? You don’t ever have to worry about anyone else. Like ever?”

He chuckled, slipping his hands into the pockets of her pants. “I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

“I’m only yours.” She smiled at him, taking a step back. “Now can we get back to work? I wanna go home with you as soon as possible.”

The case was nowhere near close to being solved, but tensions between all members of the BAU were running high. Derek, the ever hot head he was, had almost gotten into a physical fight with the Captain of the precinct, while Spencer had remained silent after a particularly loud conversation with one of the fellow officers.

“These cops just won’t let us do our jobs, Hotch,” Emily had groaned in the hotel elevator with Y/N and Aaron. “I’m two derogatory comments away from breaking Walker’s nose.”

Y/N snorted, eying her husband’s now tense back in front of her. “He’s a real piece of work huh?”

“I’ll be too glad when we get out of here. Why can’t we work with female cops for a change?”

It was Hotch’s turn to snort. “You would end up being the one that they complained about. You’re just as bad as Morgan.”

Emily gave an artificial gasp. “Am not.”

The elevator doors opened, and Y/N followed her husband out and down the hall to the left. “Night Em!”

Out of sight of the rest of their team, she jogged forward to grab his hand, giving a small kiss to his knuckles. A comfortable silence had settled between the heavy setted footsteps of the married couple. Y/N rocked on her heels as her husband fumbled with the key card to their shared room. She rolled her neck, letting the tension fizzle out in separated pops of her bones. She barely registered the click of the door, or the wrap of fingers around her wrist. She did however, notice the cool, fake wood of the hotel door being pressed against her back. “Aaron?”

“You’re mine,” he murmured, pressing his lips in the angle of her neck. She chuckled, winding her fingers in his hair.

“I thought we already clarified that, baby.”

He hummed a chuckle, his tongue lapping up whatever remnants of perfume traced his neck. “And I intend to make that painfully obvious to everyone in that precinct.”

His lips wrapped around the muscles at the junction of her neck, drawing out a moan out of her with passing second that the air left his mouth. Y/N hummed a laugh, lifting her hips to grind against his. “Seriously, a hickey?”

His hand snaked up her waist to rest under her chin, squeezing slightly. She could feel the metal of his wedding band warm to the temperature of her skin. “I’ve got a point to prove, sweetheart.”

His fingers left her throat and reached down to pull the backs of her thighs to wrap around his waist, grunting slightly at the movement. She worked on unbuttoning her shirt, the best she could. “Aar-” their bodies fell to the bed, his legs slotted between hers. Y/N squeezed his left hand that had found its way into hers. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, remember?”

“Oh I remember, darling,” his mouth moved to her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting it free. “I think you’re the one who needs a reminder.”

Aaron’s hands pushed up her skirt, adjusting it to pool at her hips. His calloused hands traced the edge of her underwear, sliding softly under the band. His mouth, trailing back up to her neck smirked as Y/N’s hips squirmed under his delicate touch. “Be patient, love.”

His attached his mouth to hers as his fingers slowly, finally began circling her clit. The metal of his ring brushing deliciously against the skin above. His teeth tugged her bottom lips, a small whine escaping her. He watched her blissed out expression morph into one of need, eyes scrunched with tension. His fingers dipped lower, circling her entrance before dipping two fingers in slowly.

“Aaron,” she gasped out, clenching around the fingers inside of her. “Aaron, please.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he smiled into her neck, pressing his lips to her skin. “I’m gonna take good care of my wife, don’t you worry.”

His thumb, that had been rolling lazy circles against her clit, becomes more firm, with more intention. Y/N could feel the cold of her husband’s silver band pressing into her pussy as he pressed a third finger into her. The stretch of his hand, the way he stroked her walls with his fingers, and the words dripping from his lips were enough to put her body on edge.

“Oh you’re so tight, baby,” he chuckled darkly, breath blowing sweetly against her inner thighs. “Fuck, you’re wet. Is this all for me?”

Her fingers wrapped lazily between his black locks, tugging the strands. “Only you.”

“Of course, honey,” he cooed. “Look at you dripping all over my ring, I bet you’re gonna come soon, yeah?”

“Please,” Y/N whined loudly. “Please, Aaron, I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Come for me, baby, get nice and ready for my cock.” She let out a yelp, her back arching from the mattress as her husband continued to lazily stroke her cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth for a taste, before pausing and redirecting his fingers to her mouth. Her eyes stayed on him and she hummed around his fingers, tongue lapping at her own juices around his wedding ring.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, tugging off his own shirt, and ridding his pants and underwear. Y/N’s panties now rested at her knees, twisting over on itself, until she lazily ridded the rest of her garments.

Aaron now positioned her on her knees, head resting on her forearms as her ass ground into his pelvis. “Please, baby, wanna feel you,” her muffled voice called out.

He sucked his teeth with mock annoyance, lightly smacking one of her cheeks with his left hand. “And what did I say about being patient?” he chided, before lining his dick up and thrusting in.

Her toes curled at the sudden, but welcome intrusion. A groan left her throat as he began pounding into her pussy at a rough pace. Thrust for thrust, the room echoes with grunts and moans from both Y/N and her husband. She could almost feel his smug grin with every whine that fell through her lips.

“Fuck, Y/N look at you taking my cock so well. I bet you just love how I fill you up.” Her only responses were loud moans that flowed through his own voice as she clenched around him.

The metal of his wedding ring now almost burned against her sweating skin as he wrapped his hand around her throat once more, pulling her body to be flush against him as he continued to thrust into her at a bruising pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” She stayed wordless, only echoing in whines and moans. He squeezed her neck a little tighter, the imprint of the ring creating a delicious friction. “Answer me.”

“You!” her voice bursted out. “You, Aaron, only you.”

“That’s right, sweetheart, your husband. I married you, I put that ring on your finger-” he groaned, attaching his lips to the juncture of her neck before speaking again. “Fuck, are you gonna come for me soon?”

“Yes!” she cried, “Please, please.”

“Go ahead, and come for me like a good girl,” he panted, using his other hand to rub against her clit, squeezing his fingers again on her throat before speaking right into her ear. “Come on your husband’s cock.”

She yelled with her release, back arching to meet Aaron’s chest. He let out a few more strong thrusts before he found his own release and coated her walls with a groan. His forehead landed on her shoulder, her fingers lazily combing through his hair.

Eventually, he pulled himself out to clean themselves up and crawl into bed. She had rested on his side, but yelped when he pulled her to lay on his chest. She smiled softly, fingers tracing imaginary shapes along his pecs, then started chuckling softly.

He cracked a smile reserved only for her. “What are you up to?”

Her giggles quieted and she stopped her movements. “Oh, I was just thinking. I should make you jealous more often.”

He groaned, tugging her close to him, covering her ringed hand with his own. “Don’t you dare.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she chuckled sweetly. “You’re mine.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #fem!reader #smut #cm smut #spencer reid fanfic #cm #smut request

868 notes · View notes

mr-walkingrainbow · 3 years

Note

cooking for abimel!

Cooking. Aka STRESS BAKING.

Oh hell I loved this prompt Gracie. (Your in my head as that, or Shawgroves, cause you changed from Shawgroves to gracepeirce? Sighhh this is life with an Autistic person who identifies someone’s names differentlyyyyy)

Mel walks In the door, half expecting to be pummeled with a hug from one of her two sons.

Probably Luchario, he’s more of a hugger.

Though Jordy sometimes got clingy, so she wouldn’t count him out just yet.

She pauses, a moment of confusion running through her at the lack of physical contact.

Then she smells the air.

Ohh that makes so much more sense.

The smell of something sweet and delicious wifts through the air. An aroma so delectable it has her mouth watering already.

Luke and Jordy are probably snarking down scraps or begging for raw samples if not flat out inhaling everything.

Her mouth twitches as a second thought crosses her mind.

Could this be...?

No,

so far, their was nothing that would lead to that.

Maybe something good happened. Her wife was known for celebrating the small things, especially if it made her family happy.

Thoughts currently at bay, she pulled off her favorite leather jacket, (Lovingly named ‘Spell’ by Abigael. Who had taken a fierce attachment to the item, treating the garment as if it was family).

“Lovely! Guys! I’m home!” The Latina called out, haphazardly kicking off her shoes.

“MAMI!” She hears her kids cheer from the kitchen.

Even after hearing it for seventeen years, it doesn’t stop the jaw breaking smile from taking over.

“Hello Mijos! -Oh! Hello Jordy!” She speaks to the now empty space behind her.

They had mastered their Whitelighter powers by now, so if she randomly felt a hug from nowhere, she wasn’t to be alarmed.

Mel walks into the kitchen, smile immediately dropping at the site before her.

Their is layer upon layer of sweets, cakes, and cookies . everything imaginable scattered across counter space.

Her kids are in the middle of a sugar high in the bar seats, giggling maniacally over a pile of assorted cakes.

“Hey Mami!” Luke calls again, she forces a smile just for him.

“Hello Caro,” her voice turns warning, “You two shouldn’t eat too much more, wouldn’t want to get stomach aches?”

“Aw come on!” Jordy waves, one hand filled with cake, a lollipop permanently between their lips, “Well be fine! Besides! Mom said we could eat whatever we want!”

“Yeah..that’s what I’m worried about.” Her admission is small, and doesn’t reach her teens ears.

So she quickly turns in search of her wife. Knowing exactly what had happened.

She’d only seen it a number of times, one actually being in the Tomb. It was something you’d never assume she’d do, and you didn’t hear this from Mel, but her wife,

Was a stress baker.

Yup. You heard her.

A Stress Baker.

The demon overlord and gateway of magic, was a literal Stress Baker.

“Cariño?” She calls out to the brittless Kitchen.

“Oh! Melanie!” Abby pops out from behind the counter, covered in flour and sugar, “I didn’t hear you arrive! How was your day?”

“Um,” Mel bit her lip, approaching hesitantly, “It was good. Kevin actually payed me a visit today! It was really nice seeing him again!”

“Oh that’s wonderful sweetie!” Her wife crows.

She then seems to notice the assorted items around her, “Oh! How atrocious of me! Please. Help yourself to anything!”

The Latina could feel her expression strain, along with stress baking, Abby usually donned a strictly polite attitude, treating her almost as a guest rather then her wife.

It was shutting down, she’d actually learned. When something was bothering her so much she’d put on the perfect act, cookie cutter if you will, to pretend everything’s ok.

“Honey, sweetie angel, my one and only Wife,... what happened?”

“Whatever do you mean Mel?” Abby rings in a near robotic way.

Mel gets up, crossing the counters so she’s standing in front of her wife. Reaching out and gently enveloping the laters busy hands in hers, stilling them.

“Cariño,” she spoke warmly, “I know you. I’ve been married to you for twenty years. And your stress baking again. I just want you to know that whatever is wrong I’ll be here with you. You don’t have to shut down to survive.”

Abbys frozen expression wavers, gazing at her surroundings with new eyes.

“Bloody hell, I really let it get away from me this time.”

Her eyes are filled with shame, something Mel kisses away on her lips.

“It’s ok.” She assures, “I’m here now.”

The tension in Abigaels shoulders sag, as she slumps forward into the latinas awaiting embrace. One hand around her waist, and the other stroking her forehead just as she knows she likes.

“Today was... difficult.”

“Oh?” Mel hums, “How so Cariño?”

“Demons, people, arguements,” the Britt moans vaguely, Mel understands she’s probably going partially nonverbal, “They wanted the impossible. Got mad when I couldn’t make it happen. They-“

She abruptly cuts herself off. Presumably shutting off all verbal communication now.

The Latina could feel her wife tremble slightly, straining with the urge to continue talking and explain.

“Hey,” she cooed, continuing to stroke the laters forehead, “It’s ok. I understand. I’m sorry they did that to you.”

Abby just nodded miserably against Mels shoulder.

“No wonder you were stress baking,” the lesbian muses to herself, “I still don’t know how you mange being in charge of everything.”

Mel takes notice of the obvious silence, “Yeah I’m probably not helping.”

“No,” Abby finally states, “Just being with you helps. It always does Atlantis.”

She smiles warmly, giving a final kiss to her wife’s crown, “Ok then. Let’s clean up a bit, pick one of these random desserts, snuggle on the couch with your favorite blanket, and have the teens pick out some movie id probably disapprove of.”

Abigael smiles greatfully, eyebrows crinkling, “You always get me, Melanie.”

Mel grins, “What is a wife for?”

“Helping me eat all of this?”

“Ha!” She scoffs, “As if I’d let it all go to the kids! Their already halfway to a sugar Coma and a door away from heart attacks.”

Her wife laughs joyfully, almost lightly, as if a heavy weights been lifted off of her.

And the two of them go off and have a super gay snuggle fest and watch Miss Peregrines home for peculiar children, and Carmilla.

(Because I live for shoutouts to other fandoms and I hope that made @transmazikeen smile)

HAHAHAHA BASKOOSH! HOW YOU LIKE THAT???? Sorry it wasn’t technically cooking, but since Abby is like canonly a stress baker I’ve been dying to write something like this.

21 notes · View notes

semblanche · 4 years

Note

hi kween, i’m new to writeblr and like a sucky ass person, could you maybe recommend some writeblrs for me to follow? exuding my same unpredictable and slightly unhinged personality? (1/2)

and also how do taglists work? HOW DOES THE COMMUNITY OF WRITEBLR WORK? this is brand new information. I’m sorry if this causes any stress so feel free to ignore! (2/2)

hey! welcome to writeblr, that's a pretty strong opening lmao

i'll try to split this ask into parts -

1. WRITEBLRS TO FOLLOW

i mean, everyone is v talented in their own way, and beyond "unpredictable and unhinged" i'm hardly certain what you're looking for, but if you're asking for people that i personally vibe with -

@at-lxs - rarely posts her own writing, but remains one of my most treasured mutuals - the day i get her to put content on her blog, it's over for y'all. she's so fucking funny and sharp, and either way, her tags are also always worth a visit bc her eye for detail & analysis on writing will leave you shaking

@holotones - woohoo fucked up, deliciously good writing time!! if you like unhealthy relationships, body horror, and cowboys, i legit can't recommend haeji's blog enough. they write in basically every genre known to man, which is also a huge plus - if for some reason you don't love everything they post, you are guaranteed to find at least one thing you do

@llesbianwrites - HER WRITING KNOCKS ME OFF MY FEET EVERY TIME I SEE IT AND THAT'S THAT ON THAT. i still get breathless thinking about hungry ghosts, and i want peter's intro inscribed on my gravestone. read it or/and perish

@carumens - one of the first writeblrs i followed when i joined - she's so open and welcoming, it almost helps distract from how much my heart aches whenever i think of sunflowers at night :')

@aelenko - abby's blog features one of the only non-fantasy wips on this list, since it's not smth i typically care for - which should alone be testament to how crazy talented abby is to make me care about hers. she's also got new fantasy & dark academia wips that make my heart go TWICE as wild because,,, ohhhh my godddddd

@emdrabbles - worldbuilding. worldbuilding everywhere. also six of crows content, which frankly i don't think the world can ever have enough of. also also guaranteed to be the coolest person you'll ever meet, but also a certified bully of taller people (everyone) so look out for that 😔

@viviuyn - her writing has so much going on, how can you NOT be captivated? i don't even like vampires technically & i still can't stop thinking about that excerpt she posted about the man who loves his vampire gf a little too much :'>

@acrimoneous - two words: CODENAME HAMLET. bonus words: wip of the century. also leaves literally the nicest comments, i get a little emotional whenever i see them

@zuiderhaaks - i didn't think it was possible to go feral go stupid over every single thing a person posts, but eva somehow proves me wrong each time. if you like themes of divinity, with a nice heaping of Oh God Oh Fuck Am I Crying Right Now, can't recommend high enough tbh

2. TAG LISTS

a tag list is a list of people who've asked to be tagged whenever you upload content related to your wip! so like, let's say you have my wip, requiem. someone asking me to join the tag list means that, when i post writing on requiem, i'll tag them in it - whether in the form of a self rb (my preferred method), under a 'read more', in the comments, etc. it helps to keep track of the people who have asked on a notes doc, i've found, or else it just gets messy - esp if you have multiple wips, but not people interested in following each and every one

3. HOW DOES WRITEBLR WORK

kind of like how you'd think, i reckon! you post your writing in whatever form you please and roll from there.

some general tips i can give you on it though include -

make an intro post detailing who you are, what genres you like, what you're hoping to post/follow, your interests, etc. this'll help you find other people in the community

use tags like "writeblr", "writers on tumblr", "original writing" and "wip introduction" (for when you first post your projects)

don't stress over number of notes, they'll come come to you. but also lower your expectations like a Lot in regard to them if that's smth you care about. 20 notes is considered 👌👌

and legit don't stress or put yourself down. we are all just sitting here man

#writeblr #talking with the wind #its loving mutuals hours again #but also uhh if you have any more questions lmk!! hope this helped at all

35 notes · View notes

headlineeternal · 5 years

Text

Kelly Rimmer on writing in two genres: how writing my new contemporary romance series differed from writing my women’s fiction novels.

If you’ve read any of my six previous novels, you probably know that I like to write emotional stories. They don’t always have the happiest of endings, although I do try to find something uplifting to land on over the last few pages! But the topics I have loved exploring over the last few years have been complex, difficult issues; things like domestic violence and forced adoption and drug addiction. My most recent book, The Things We Cannot Say, covers the joy and challenge of raising a child with autism, and tells the story of a young couple caught up in occupied Poland during World War Two! These books are incredibly research intensive and sometimes really difficult to write. I am putting my characters through hell, and some writing days for me literally are me sitting at the keyboard listening to emotional music while I type and sob. Even so, I love the way these books challenge me and make me think. I’ve learned so much about so many things as I wrote these books. My own opinions have been stretched and then changed and, although it might sound crazy to say, they forced me to empathise with people very different to me. Because of that, I feel like the way I love my fellow human beings has been deepened.

All that’s to say, I love my emotional fiction and I hope I’m lucky enough to write these kinds of books forever. But in 2016, I’d just written my book A Mother’s Confession (which is about domestic violence) and my book Before I Let You Go (which is about two sisters trying to navigate a complex legal situation after one is caught up in a drug addiction…while pregnant). I remember having coffee with a friend and she said to me something like ‘it must feel like you’ve been through both of these harrowing, life changing experiences at the same time’. Of course, fiction isn’t reality and I wasn’t quite that burnt out, but I suppose I was a little tired.

The problem is that I love writing. It’s my passion. My hobby. My favourite thing in the world to do (other than spending time with family and dogs, naturally). I felt like I needed a break from sitting at the keyboard sobbing, but I didn’t want to stop writing for any significant period of time.

I was pondering all of this when my friend shattered her ankle. It was an awful injury and she was trapped at home for months, basically immobile. I asked her what she was doing to fill her days and she told me she was reading romance novels. She was basically devouring them – dozens a week. Escaping into a world safe from the difficulties of her real life was saving her and I loved the idea that she’d found such solace in books. A few days later, I heard a podcast featuring romance novelist Kylie Scott. Kylie and I are both Australian and we happen to share our agent, and I was fascinated with her story. I bought one of her books…and by the end of the week, I’d read everything she’d ever written (except the zombie stuff. I’m terrified of zombies!).

It felt a bit like the answer to my ‘what to do now’ question had landed in my lap. A few years earlier, I had two characters pop into my mind, and I knew they didn’t belong in one of my women’s fiction stories. I decided I’d take Abby and Marcus, lifelong best friends, and try to give them a happy-ever-after. Their story absolutely poured out of me, and by the time I was halfway done, I’d already come up with ideas for their friends Paul and Isabel, and Jessica and Jake. The Start Up In the City series had been born.

It would be an understatement to say I loved writing these books. They are very different to my earlier novels – very modern, a bit steamy, and quite light-hearted. That’s not to say I don’t put these characters through hell, because sometimes I do. But these books will always end with our hero and heroine figuring it all out and finding a way to be together.

My women’s fiction novels are intended to entertain, but also to challenge and education and inspire. My contemporary romance novels will hopefully do all of that too, but they are intended to be a delicious escape from the challenges of the real world, and a reminder that in the end, love is everything we have.

UNEXPECTED is out on 28th May!

#contemporaryromance #womensfiction #romance #writing #books #romantic books #contemporary fiction

1 note · View note

morningsound15 · 6 years

Note

au game for astury queen octaven specifically:)

fuck ok you know what i’m going to answer this because i literally HAVE THEIR STORY ARC ALREADY WRITTEN for that fucking story but i can’t motivate myself to write the rest of the story AROUND their arc and like proper scene transitions and shit like honestly at least for like the foreseeable future so you know what?

i’m just gonna post what i have written for them here. because fuck it.

this is gonna be a long fucking post sorry in advance.

1.)

For the past week, Octavia had been spending her lunches not in the hospital cafeteria, not in one of the many break rooms, but rather inside room 307, with her legs tucked up under her as she folded herself into the uncomfortable chair in the corner that she was coming to see more and more as belonging solely to her.

She wasn’t exactly sure why she started doing it. The first time it happened she just happened to be checking Raven’s vitals right as her lunch tray was being delivered, but after that… well, she wasn’t exactly sure how it started happening, but that first instance turned into another, and then another, and now it had fully become a part of her routine. Octavia would bring her bagged lunch up to the third floor — or she’d bring up a tray from the cafeteria — and the two of them would eat together, sharing companionable conversation. Octavia even started buying those individually-packaged pudding cups to trade for Raven’s Jell-O (because apparently Raven couldn’t stand Jell-O), and what started off as a one-time deal had become something quite unexpected.

On this particular day, Octavia had really pulled out all the stops and sprung for something special (and smuggled in from outside). Not that outside food wasn’t allowed in the hospital — it definitely was. But Octavia was pretty sure that Abby wouldn’t approve of her feeding a recovering patient fast food, no matter how delicious it might be.

Today, they were sharing a sampling of every kind of fry from the fast food restaurants that sprinkled the area. Octavia had managed to snag no fewer than six different varieties, and they were working through them slowly, providing carefully thought-out ranks for each new batch.

Raven picked up one of the thicker, drier options. She eyed it suspiciously, like it had personally offended her, like she already knew she was about to be disappointed. She popped it into her mouth anyway. She chewed slowly, contemplatively, taking on her role as Supreme Fry Judge with an air of deep solemnity. When she finally swallowed, it was with a grimace and a shake of the head.

“Nope,” she said seriously. “That’s the worst one. Sixth place. Take it out of rotation.”

Octavia laughed but did as she was told, sliding forward the next group. “As you wish, Your Honor.” She bowed her head slightly, and Raven returned the gesture with an elaborate flourish of the hand.

Octavia grabbed another container and started munching happily, a small smile on her face. She was happy, here; she was happy doing this. It was nice. Hanging out with Raven and sharing a bunch of fast food fries was a lot of fun. For most of her adult life, Octavia’s only real friend had been Clarke. Having another person to talk to — someone she didn’t live with or work with or spend every waking hour with — was honestly a treat; something unprecedented; something novel and exciting.

It was nice. But admittedly, Octavia knew that it also wasn’t exactly the most professional thing in the world she could be doing. But she was a surgical resident, and Raven wasn’t even technically still a patient of hers. Now that she was in recovery, the general residents and attendings were responsible for her care and well-being. And there were no rules about when or where Octavia was supposed to take her lunch breaks; she could visit a friend on her down-time. There was nothing wrong with that at all.

(So why did she still feel so weirdly guilty about all of this?)

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate their food. The room was warm and bright; the air dry. If Octavia inhaled strongly enough she could pick out the scent of flowers wafting over from the pile overflowing on Raven’s dresser (Sinclair made sure to drop by every other day with a new batch from him and his wife, just because). Octavia leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed at the ankle, and allowed herself to sink into the feeling of being in this room, of being around this woman. She allowed herself to sink into the feeling of comfort, and just breathe.

It was quiet for a few more minutes when Raven finally spoke. “The doc says I’m gonna have some pretty gnarly scars,” she said softly, her fingers toying with the edge of a napkin, her eyes downcast.

Octavia’s face slipped. She swallowed, her appetite suddenly disappearing. She wasn’t sure what Raven’s sentence was supposed to convey. She wasn’t sure if it was accusatory, or self-pitying (though Raven didn’t seem the type for either of those emotions). She wasn’t sure how to respond, so instead she said, “Have you looked, yet?”

Raven shrugged and picked up another fry. “Not really. Kinda been too scared, kinda been too grossed out.” She took a bite and smiled, seemingly pleased. “Plus, it’s hard to check yourself out in a mirror when you need a nurse to help you shower every day.”

Octavia bit her lip and spoke almost without thinking. “Do you want to see?” Raven’s head jerked up. “The one on your back’s the biggest. I could take a picture?”

Raven didn’t move for a few long moments, and Octavia felt a wave of panic overtake her. She did something wrong. She said something wrong. She was being completely inappropriate, offering to do something like that for this girl she barely knew, and she’d made Raven uncomfortable and she had to come up with an apology quick or else risk—

“Sure,” Raven said, and Octavia’s internal, panicked monologue fizzled out as quickly as it had erupted.

Her fingers felt a little thick and fumbling as she wiped them swiftly on her scrubs. But even with her rubbing, the tips of her fingers still felt oily; the palms of her hands still felt dry. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do about that.

“Okay,” she said, standing up slowly and trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. “Um, I guess I’ll just… help you out?” Raven nodded, and Octavia put her hands gently on the woman’s shoulders, turning her slightly away from the bed. She didn’t move her too quickly, ever-mindful of the sutures still in Raven’s skin, so it seemed to take eons before Raven was laying on her side, facing Octavia completely.

Octavia smiled at her, a little nervously. “Sorry, I’ve never done this before,” she apologized.

Raven smiled back. “I’ve never done this before either.”

Right. Obviously. “Want me to use your phone or mine?”

“Mine,” Raven answered easily. “I’ll text them to all the guys at the station. They’ll probably get a kick out of it.” Raven used her chin to gesture towards the bedside table where her phone lay, undisturbed.

Octavia wiped her hands furtively one more time before she picked it up. She moved around Raven’s bed until she was behind her, grabbing one glove from the box next to the sink on her way. She slipped the blue latex onto her non-dominant hand, the hand not holding the phone, as she rounded the bed completely. She then used her now-invisible position to take one quick breath in, before she let her hand reach out and brush against Raven’s side.

The woman twitched under her touch, and Octavia grimaced. “Sorry about that,” she apologized into the silent room. Only the steady whirring of the air conditioning unit and a few of the machines around the room kept it from being completely absent of noise. But still, it was remarkably quiet between them. “Also my hands are probably cold,” she said as her fingers carefully undid the ties on Raven’s hospital gown, “so… sorry for that, too.”

Raven hissed as soon as Octavia’s knuckles brushed the skin near her shoulder. “Geez, they’re like ice. What do you do all day?”

“Poor circulation.”

“Jesus,” Raven muttered, “I would die.”

Raven’s skin was warm. So warm it was almost hot. Octavia pushed her gown aside, pushing the split open so that most of Raven’s back was now exposed to the air and to her line of sight.

She paused, for only the tiniest of moments, at the image that greeted her.

It was only for a moment, but Raven still noticed.

“I’m sorry if it’s disgusting,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Octavia shook her head, though she knew Raven couldn’t see her. “Raven, I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse. Plus, I helped make this one, so.”

“Right.” A chuckle. “Always forget that.”

Octavia placed her gloved hand on Raven’s scapula, just to the right of the jagged line marring her otherwise flawless skin. It was still wrapped in gauze and held shut with staples. If Octavia moved her thumb just an inch, she’d brush up against the wound. “You always forget that I’m a doctor?” she mumbled, her voice low.

“That you’ve seen worse than me.” Raven’s voice was just as soft as hers. “That there’s been worse than me.” Octavia’s hands slowed to a complete stop.

When Raven spoke next, it was with a surprising degree of sincerity — perhaps because, with Octavia perched behind her, she couldn’t see her eyes. “I can’t walk,” Raven said, and Octavia forced her hands to restart their task. “I need help to do everything. It hurts to just lay down. And someone has to come in here every two hours and turn me over so that this stupid thing can ‘breathe’, or whatever.”

“The air is good for your back.” Octavia fumbled only briefly with the cellphone in her hand, but she managed to take a not-too-blurry picture without embarrassing herself.

She carefully closed Raven’s hospital gown, her fingers applying barely any pressure as she tied it shut. With one more quick brush to Raven’s shoulder, Octavia quickly cleared her throat and pulled away. She rounded the bed and peeled off her latex glove, using the opportunity while her back was turned to take one more quick, steadying breath. God, but that was a completely inappropriate reaction. She was not acting professionally in the slightest.

“Can’t wait until I can wear real clothes,” Raven said from behind her. “These hospital gowns do absolutely nothing for my figure.”

Octavia smiled and held out Raven’s phone to her with hands that didn’t shake at all. “When your back’s better I’m sure they won’t have any problem with you wearing your own clothes. Just make sure they’re loose and won’t interfere with your mobility.”

Raven snorted. “What mobility?”

“When your physical therapy starts.” Raven scrunched her face, looking skeptical. Octavia shook her head. “I know how you feel about physical therapy, Raven, but they’ve got a really great program here. And it really will help a ton. Now, look at the picture I worked so hard to take, please.”

Raven chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain Blake, but okay.” She unlocked her phone and immediately pulled a face. “Oh, gross.”

“Obviously it won’t look like that forever. Once the stitches come out—”

“No, I mean it’s cool-gross. I like it. I’ll look like the freaking Terminator. Or Doc Oc from the Spiderman comics. Nice.”

“You have a remarkable attitude about all of this. Most people don’t react that way when they see their scars for the first time.”

“Well, I’m not most people, am I?”

“No. You definitely aren’t.”

“Besides, chicks dig scars.” Raven winked, a drawn out and exaggerated motion that nonetheless had Octavia’s stomach doing somersaults. She fought to keep her face impassive. “Isn’t that right, Doctor Blake?”

“That’s what they say in the movies.”

“So, a girl can dream.” They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity then, the silence stretching between them, charged with… something. Something that felt big. Something that felt too important and too significant for 12:45 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon. Something that—

“French fry taste-test?” a voice said from the doorway and Octavia jumped, immediately pulling back. She had started to lean forwards, to lean towards Raven, without even really noticing. She tried not to look guilty as her eyes flicked to catch Clarke’s kind and smiling gaze.

“Clarke. Hey,” she said, standing quickly from her seat. “We were just—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the boss,” Clarke said with a wink, taking a few steps into the room and snagging some of the food from Octavia’s tray. “Just wanted to see when you were off. I’m headed back to our place, and thought maybe you’d be my favorite person in the entire world and drive us home?”

Octavia immediately started cleaning up the mess of fries, containers, and napkins that littered Raven’s space. “Yeah, of course. My shift ended like an hour ago, so no need to wait around.”

“Oh,” Raven said, clearly surprised. “You didn’t have to stay, Doctor Blake. I didn’t know you were on your own time.”

Octavia shook her head. “No, no it’s not a problem. Had to wait for Clarke, anyway.” She smiled against the anxiety swirling in her chest. “Plus, you’re great lunch company.”

Clarke wrapped her arms around Octavia’s waist from behind and gave her a firm squeeze. “And to think, that used to be my job.”

Octavia flushed and turned away, brushing Clarke’s arms away from her. “Knock it off, Clarke,” she muttered, dumping the trash in her arms into the trash bin by the door.

Raven was shooting her a strange, semi-indecipherable look from the bed. “Sorry,” she said slowly. “Who are you, again?”

“Oh!” Clarke took a few steps forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m Doctor Griffin.”

Raven took her hand tentatively. “I don’t think so. I know Doctor Griffin.”

“Common mistake.” Clarke smiled, one side of her mouth pulling up higher than the other. “She’s my mom.”

“Oh.” Raven looked at least moderately-surprised. “And you and Doctor Blake… live together.” She didn’t say it like a question, but Clarke answered her anyway.

“Yup! Since college.”

“Right.” She still had that inscrutable expression on her face, and it was making Octavia increasingly more uncomfortable. “Sorry.” She shook her head again. “Sorry, I didn’t… sorry.”

For some unknown reason, Octavia felt compelled to twist her hands together. Clarke frowned. “What are you sorry for?”

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat and bent slightly forward, peering at Octavia from around Clarke’s body. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor Blake?”

Octavia nodded, her throat dry. “Yup,” she croaked. “Ready to go, Clarke?”

Out in the hallway, Clarke slid her arm through Octavia’s elbow. She squeezed tightly, knocking their shoulders together. “She’s cute.”

“She’s a patient, Clarke.”

“She can still be cute.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Will you lay off, maybe? You already make me drive you andfrom work, we do everything together… I can’t have one friend that isn’t you?”

Clarke pulled back. “Woah, okay. Testy. What’s going on with you today?”

“There’s nothing going on with me,” Octavia shot back shortly. “I’m fine.”

2.)

It wasn’t long after that that Octavia started dating Atom. She met him at the gym (story of all fascinating stories), and truth be told if you really pressed her for details she had to admit that she wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that ultimately compelled her say yes when he asked her out. Maybe it was something about the way her stomach turned any time she thought about her earlier interaction with Clarke. Maybe it was something about the way Raven had become more emotionally withdrawn from her in the past few weeks, sharing fewer personal anecdotes and cracking fewer jokes. Or maybe it was the way Raven smiled at her now, always soft and mild and politely-interested but lacking the warmth and sincerity Octavia had come to expect from her. Maybe it was some combination of the three.

Either way. He asked, and she said yes.

She waited longer than she probably should have to tell Clarke. But could you blame her, really? Atom was exactly the kind of guy that Clarke always freaked out about, worried over, frowned disapprovingly at. Octavia just didn’t need that kind of stress weighing over her right now.

At least, that was the excuse she used to justify keeping the secret for a month and a half.

When she finally did tell Clarke, it went over about as well as expected. Which is to say, not well at all.

She listened to Clarke rant at her for a full seven minutes before she’d finally had enough.

“Would you stop, please?” she cut in quickly when Clarke paused to take a breath. “I get it, okay? He’s the sketchiest dude you’ve ever seen, he’s not ‘boyfriend material’, I shouldn’t be wasting my time with him… I get it, alright? So can you cool it with the lecture?”

Clarke frowned at her, her earlier anger and annoyance immediately melting away into genuine concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just…” Octavia sighed, pushing a hand roughly through her hair— “I’m sick and tired of being alone, Clarke. I haven’t had a serious relationship since… since college, and… Jesus Christ, I’m just tired of being alone.”

“But this is…” Clarke looked almost pained, now. Whether it was at Octavia’s clear emotional distress or because of her own personal desire to voice her full opinions about Octavia’s occasional-sexual-partner, uninterrupted, it was impossible to say. “Octavia, this isn’t what you want; you know that, right? This is… I mean this Atom guy isn’t any—”

“Can you stay out of my business for once, maybe?” She bit angrily, jaw clenched and eyes burning.

Clarke huffed. “I’m not trying to be in your business, I just—”

“I don’t exactly have a lot of choice in who I date right now considering the person I actually want to date is—” Octavia stopped speaking abruptly, flushing darkly, and looked down at the too-large scrubs engulfing her small frame.

“What was that?” Clarke prodded in a low voice.

Octavia shook her head and turned away, busying herself as she gathered her clothes. Clarke took a step forward, wanting to place a comforting hand on her roommate’s upper arm but not knowing if she should.

“Who do you want to date, O?” Clarke asked quietly.

Octavia rubbed hand over her face and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. At least Clarke couldn’t see that part; she was relieved for that. She hated crying. She hated when people saw her cry. “You’re not going to approve.”

“Try me.” When Octavia still did not say anything, Clarke ventured, “This doesn’t have anything to do with that cute patient in 307 who you spend most of your lunch breaks talking to, does it?”

Octavia flushed and shifted on her feet but did not deny it.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t approve?”

“Because she’s a patient, Clarke; a patient I operated on and a patient I—”

“You weren’t even chief surgeon, you just assisted. My mom was the one who… You have to know that what happened with her leg wasn’t your—”

“I know it wasn’t my fault but she’s still… God, how unprofessional would it be to… to sleep with her or date her or…?”

“She isn’t going to be a patient forever. Probably not even until the end of this week. After she’s discharged, you should ask her out. I’m sure she wants to go out with you.”

“You think?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

3.)

“So, what do you say to getting some food someplace far away from here that isn’t served in Jell-o form?”

Raven laughed, pulling her coat over her shoulders. She adjusted the brace on her leg and winced as it pinched against some of the skin of her upper thigh. “As long as you’re buying. I could really use some good food and since I live alone and can’t cook for shit…” She trailed off, a smirk present in her eyes and on her lips.

Octavia beamed. “Yeah, yeah sounds good. What do you say about Friday?”

“Sounds great, Doctor Blake.”

“You can call me Octavia now, you know; I think we’ve reached that point.”

Raven beamed. “Octavia it is.” She grabbed her crutches and adjusted them on her forearms, testing her balance. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve lived here two years and still I don’t think I have more than three friends, and I work with all of them.” She smiled and reached out to grip Octavia’s upper arm. “I’m really glad we’re going to keep seeing each other. I’m kind of in desperate need for more friends.”

Octavia kept the smile planted on her face even as something in her stomach sank with what felt strangely like disappointment. “Of course,” she said, “I’m happy to help.”

4.)

Octavia tried to be just-friends with Raven. She tried. She tried to respect Raven’s boundaries for the sake their existing relationship.

She really did try.

There was just only so much she could take, in the end. Only so many late night Netflix binge-sessions she could sit through, only so many not-dinner dates she could go on, only so many times she could make sexual-tension-filled eye contact with Raven across a room before she finally broke.

She lasted all of about three weeks.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

Raven looked up from the cup she had been playing with. Her brow furrowed. “What? We… we went out tonight.”

“No, I mean, like…” Octavia took a step forwards, reaching out and brushing her fingers against the soft skin of Raven’s wrist, “like go out with me. Like on a date.”

Raven pulled back, looking (confusingly) very shocked and more than a little concerned. “Octavia I… I mean I don’t—”

They heard keys in the lock and seconds later the door swung open. Clarke stumbled inside, dressed in dirty scrubs and looking utterly exhausted. “Hey babe,” she said, kissing Octavia on the cheek as she passed them on her way to the kitchen, “do we have any beer? Anya was on my ass today and I really need a pick-me-up.”

“Yeah, check the fridge!” Octavia called out, her eyes never leaving Raven’s face. “So, what do you say about that date?”

Raven flushed and stared back at Octavia, eyes wide and mouth open. “I don’t date women who are already in a relationship,” she hissed, her eyes glancing furtively towards the kitchen. Octavia just looked confused. She couldn’t understand where this reaction was coming from, because her thing with Atom ended weeks ago and there definitely hadn’t been anyone else who might have— “I’m not a slut, Octavia, Jesus.” She turned and made to leave, limping steadily and cursing the ache in her leg. She grabbed her crutches from their perch by the door before it finally all clicked in Octavia’s mind. She wanted to slap herself.

“No… hey Raven wait!” Octavia darted past her and blocked her path to the front door.

“You really aren’t who I thought you were. I mean… Jesus, Octavia, your girlfriend is right—”

“Wait wait wait.” Octavia held up a hand, effectively stopping Raven’s tirade. “Wait. No, you’re confused, I’m not… Clarke is not my girlfriend.”

Raven blinked. “What?”

“She isn’t.” Octavia shook her head furiously. “We are not, nor have we ever been, seeing each other.”

“But… but I thought…” she blinked rapidly a few times. “You live together.”

“She’s my roommate.”

“She calls you ‘babe’. She kissed you on the cheek when she walked in! She was… she was always coming to check on you during your rounds, I… I thought…”

Octavia laughed and took a step forward, hand moving to cup the back of Raven’s neck. “Well, she’s currently banging our boss, so if we were dating then that would make all of this really awkward.” Raven spluttered. Octavia laughed again. “I’m not dating Clarke. I would like to be dating you, though… if you’re feeling up for it, and if I totally haven’t misread all of the signs these last few months.”

Raven stared at her for a few more seconds before she lunged forward, claiming Octavia’s lips in a fierce kiss that knocked them both off-balance. Octavia stumbled, crashing back into the apartment door as Raven’s body fell on top of hers, pinning her in place, lips still moving at a breakneck pace. Octavia smiled into the kiss.

“Hey are you guys okay? I heard a — woah, okay, yeah, cool, you look busy. I’ll just…” and they were sure Clarke had backed out of the room and back into the kitchen, but neither one pulled away to check.

5.)

It wasn’t easy. There were days when Raven woke up and forgot her leg no longer worked, and she only remembered once she came crashing to the floor with a sharp yelp of pain and agony because she had tried to put too much pressure on her useless appendage and it had collapsed under the unexpected weight. There were days when she got so fed up with having to lag behind her friends as they walked in front of her that she found herself crying and punching at walls in order to feel something besides helpless. There were days when her joints were so stiff she didn’t think she’d ever feel good again. There were days when she missed being able to lift heavy boxes and walk up several flights of stairs without getting breathless or needing assistance. There were bad days, as there always would be.

But there were good days, too. There were days when she would feel almost as good as new, brace on her leg and hardly any hint of a limp in her walk. Days when she could forgo her non-weight bearing crutches and just walk. There were entire days she spent hanging out on the couch with her sister, and when she had those days she forget all about the injury that ended her old career. But she had a new one, now, that she loved very much, and most of the time it was easy forget that she had ever truly had something she loved taken away from her.

There were days when she would stay at the lab until the wee hours of the morning, bent over some project or invention, when her boss would pat her on the shoulder on his way out and say, “Don’t forget to lock up, Reyes,” and she’d realize how acutely fulfilling her life was now. There were days when she would be at Octavia and Clarke’s apartment, when her knee would get stiff or her muscles would spasm, and she would groan in pain, and Octavia, without needing to be asked, would lift her bum leg onto her lap and start rubbing at the joints and the muscles and kneed away the stiffness without breaking her concentration on the television or on her readings for her rounds the next day. There were days when Raven would wake up, arms wrapped tightly around the girl she was slowly falling in love with. There were days when Octavia would kiss her breathless against the wall outside of their favorite bar, murmuring in her ear about how beautiful she looked, how badly she wanted her, and Raven had never believed any words more sincerely than she believed those.

There were bad days, sure, as there always would be. But there were good days, too. And the good days with Octavia were slowly drowning out the bad. She was with her friends, she was wanted, she was loved, she was doing a job she adored, and she was having amazing sex almost every night of the week. There were good days.

And Raven loved them.

And on some days, she really couldn’t even find it in herself to be upset that she no longer had the full use of her left leg. She was that happy. And besides, ruining her leg brought her to Octavia.

She couldn’t hate anything about that.

Send me an AU and I’ll give you 5 headcanons for it

#octaven #astuary queen #au game #headcanon #anonymous #asks #long post

20 notes · View notes

holbyconfessional · 6 years

Text

Holby City S20 E27 - The Anniversary Waltz

Oh, my goodness. What a glorious celebration of the NHS tonights episode really was. From highlighting the pressures of patient capacity, to staff voluntarily extending their working hours, to the abuse they have to deal with, and just the general ethos that all patients are equal regardless of status, this episode was just perfect. I have sadly had far more dealings with the NHS that I would wish on anyone, and I am one of it’s biggest supporters. The risk it is currently under scares the life out of me - it’s so easy to brush it off as unimportant if you’re lucky enough that your life or that of someone close to you hasn’t been affected in such a way that you need their ongoing support - I know when I was younger, I was far more flippant about it. But these people are miracle workers, and saints, and their working lives are a daily struggle against budget constraints and overcapacity of patients. They deserve every credit we can give them, and I think this episode was excellent in highlighting that.

Now, on to the minutiae! There were a few characters who truly made this episode epic. The first mention is Serena. It was a rare and wonderful chance to see her in scrubs (which is an extremely positive thing as far as I am concerned!!), the emotive facial expressions throughout her dealings with Lennie were superb. I have a particular consultant within the NHS for whom I have a similar level of affection and admiration that Lennie displayed toward Serena - and when he introduced his eldest daughter - “Serena, meet Serena!” I’m not ashamed to say I literally burst into tears. And that scene was a perfect example of Serena’s emotion through her face. Just perfect.

Of course, the other thing of mention for Serena tonight was her utterly epic lines. From calling herself a stubborn old goat, to her deliciously seductive delivery of the line “Albies. Booze. Later” (I have shivers again just writing it), and of course, the epic cheers line of ‘Up your bum’, she was just marvellous tonight. And as for getting locked in Albie’s - is there literally anyone in the world you’d rather have a lock in with than Serena Campbell? I know for me, the answer is no!!

Second candidate for great character is Jac Naylor. She navigated the rocky triangle with Fletch and Abby perfectly, and was just great throughout. I have to say, her break away has done wonders for her, because since she has been back, she truly looks stunning all the time. And of course, she had the best closing line - “Why do I love the NHS? None of your business...!”

Honourable mentions to Ric Griffin - who I do like a lot as a character, but I think always works best when playing off someone else - in this case Serena. Those two work well in theatre, we get the banter, and work excellently in the pub. Moments to cherish. (Still miss Bernie though!)

Last honorable mention to Hanssen, who frankly always deserves one in my book, even when only briefly on screen. I enjoyed his reminiscences with Sheliagh, and his appreciation for the older generation, and I always enjoy his packed lunches!

COTW. I’m clearly getting really soft in my old age, because although Neville’s storyline has been done many times before, and perhaps it’s because of the nature of tonight’s celebration of the NHS - but I literally blubbed when he turned down the heart in favour of the younger mother. So, basically, I’m saying I spent the last half of this episode in and out of tears. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone....

I’m going to more or less ignore Xavier’s part in this episode, because I just prefer it that way - which means my last thoughts on tonight are surprise at the breakup of Flabby! I mean, Abby’s jealousy of Jac was plain throughout tonight, but last week I’d mentioned that the interaction between Jac and Fletch themselves seemed really ‘friendzoned’, and the chemistry seemed really dulled down. Same this week. I get that Abby felt second best, and I get why she broke up with Fletch, but I’m still not seeing an imminent rush toward Flac - if there ever actually ends up being one at all. We shall see.

#Holby City #BBC Holby #nhs 70th birthday #save our nhs #Serena Campbell #Jac Naylor #Adrian Fletcher #abigail tate #flabby #flac #Ric Griffin #Bernie Wolfe #Henrik Hanssen #sheilagh chiltern #xavier duval

31 notes · View notes

cafenzie · 7 years

Text

oh look, me again regarding things in fanfic that bug me --

/ This will be concerning menstruation and menstrual cycles/periods as it relates in general and it’s misconceptions found in descriptions of writing.

So.......sometimes I feel like the people who write fanfiction and scenes or areas regarding periods...don’t have periods??? Given that I know the number of female to male writers can be equal, I also know a ton more girls that happen to write and so it’s really confusing how misleading some may periods sound in fanfic when....they would, theoretically, have experience of periods themselves.

And it’s not the weird un-experienced “sex scene - esque” thing that I see a lot of in fanfiction either, because it’s a natural and obvious thing, my friend. Periods are a thing and so if you don’t like the talk about it you can turn back now but honestly this shouldn’t be “disgusting” in any way what I’m about to unleash on you because it’s just natural so get over it, really. ( unless you have a fear of blood, that’s different ).

What I’m talking about is writers who dramatize or don’t realistically portray periods and menstrual cycles. Whether it’s the “bright red blood” or, you know, like blood everywhere ( like....on the wall kind of everywhere because then it sound like more like a homicide case instead ) or just the general points people can miss so I’ll just start in no particular order of how to properly go about writing about periods and people on their periods :

01. Please, for the love of the stars, don’t always go describe the blood as bright red. I see this so many times that I wonder if some of these people really don’t have periods or understand how they work ?? Let’s make this easy: menstrual blood comes in all variety of colors from that light crimson ( especially during a lighter cycle ) all the way to a dark brown that, yeah, sounds like it’s from the wrong place, but it’s not. Actually, the darker your blood is, the more likely it’s “leftover” as I call it, meaning it’s the blood left over from last month’s lining and never got disposed of out of your lady bits and because it’s been so long, the color darkens and only gets disposed of when your new cycle starts. Usually, I start with darker blood because of that exact reason -- it’s one of the first things to come out along with all that fresh blood that, yes, may look a little brighter. But the rest of the point is: not everyone has bright red blood on their menstrual cycle. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone who did, besides in small, sparse amounts..!

02. Do NOT cover up shitty actions with PMS reasoning. Do not validate someone shitting all over a person just because “they are on their period”. I hear this one so often, of how women are portrayed as literal devils while on their periods because of “PMS”. Yeah, okay, I get pretty annoyed more so when I’m on my period, but that’s due to three main reasons: (1) Hormones are the secret behind “PMS” as everyone dubs it. Estrogen and Progesterone levels in your body may heighten or serious decrease, causing imbalance, which affects your Serotonin, which is a neurotransmitter responsible for your mood balance, pain perception, and the sleep-wake cycle your body is used to. (2) I put in a trusty tampon but came back realizing my cycle is too heavy and I bled through. Maybe I was out and about. Maybe I was wearing nice underwear. Maybe I put the tampon in wrong or I should have brought a pad to put with it. Whatever the case is, every woman deals with her period a different way, personality-wise included. The myth about grumpy women who get super cheery is just waay too cliche for one thing, and it’s just ea fact that some women perceive their periods in different ways: I know girls that perk up during their cycle and we hang out and laugh and shit. I know women that may bite you if you try and grab her pizza slice, but who wouldn’t normally?? Fact is that variety is a thing with so called “PMS” and while it’s a handy term, it’s also become very desensitized to just mean that cliche stereotype of a she-devil or dragon lady who’s simultaneously bleeding out.

I’ll add on another common stereotypical misconception ( or, a least, how it’s treated to seem like ) with eating habits of a girl fighting through her cycle. Yeah, we get hungry. We eat, probably a lot more than normal, and yeah we probably eat a lot more greasy or starchy food than normal. And yeah...we fucking eat chocolate man, because it’s delicious and we deserve it. However, we do this for a reason and -- like everything else there -- it varies between each person. When we are on our periods, we are continuously losing blood ( on average 40 milliliters a day for approximately 5 days give or take ). Generally, we try and make up for everything lost during that time by drinking lots of water, but also eating more -- also as a side-effect of our Serotonin as well as the initial phase before bleeding in which our body is thinning we may have a child ( in which case it makes us think we should be eating for two ). So yeah, food is good. On another note, caffeine can actually heighten your irritability and pain during a menstrual cycle and it’s usually advised to avoid it for that time, unless you’re like me and can’t live without that first sip of morning coffee so just be wary.

03. Believe or not, those who don’t have periods, it smells. Vaginas have an odor and let me tell you that odor just come to life with that discharge. Again, everyone differs, but smells that can come from below deck are caused by bacteria mostly and the fact that you’ve been retaining moisture down there all this time by wearing underwear ( on a side note, it’s actually very good to go without the knickers every so often, even just to bed! Air that sucker out, she needs it ). Take into mind you’re losing blood and mucus and tissue that’s literally shedding from your uterus. Vaginas also can smell on a regular basis because that’s how the cookie crumbles, folks. Same thing, minus the blood and gore. It’s only different or “bad” if it’s because of an infection like yeast or your pH levels are off ( like using douches / body washes up in there. Trust me -- DON’T ). Otherwise, it’s normal!

04. Cramping and pain is normal, yes, but please remember the other sides of your cycle from fevers, headaches ( the worst ), migraines, heartburn, aching muscles, dizziness, vomiting / nausea, and the list goes on ! Period pain is not just defined by those cramps that we feel all the way from right above our uterus all the up into our belly because there is so much more. Not only that, but people experience cramping differently -- some don’t even notice it at all! Take into mind that lots of people ( like me ) commonly take medications like Midol or Pamprin to suppress or relieve these symptoms along with others. Some take it religiously as soon as they see the blood coming, but there’s also light-takers who only take a dosage when the feel it. Me, personally -- I’ll use a hot pad if it feels really bad and drink lots of cranberry juice to make sure I’m still peeing well and I may find that laying in that strange position that took me 30 minutes to find is also helpful. Point is, you can surely relieve that pain with medication and most smart girls do if they know they need it, so it really just doesn't make much sense to constantly write about your girl writhing on the floor in pain every month now does it?

05. Okay, now we’re really gonna get personal so fair warning of possible/slight NSFW below. ....For my girls out there who get really heated during their period, I feel you. Honestly, I think this is one of my personal main indicators of my oncoming cycle since I’ll notice that “ hey, I’ve been fantasizing about Bucky Barnes way more than I normally do ”. Yeah, given I love Bucky Barnes, I think of myself somewhat humble for not thinking about what else that metal arm could be put to good use for every single night, okay? I guess this segment will also just be informative for those of you unfamiliar with sex during your period or masturbation during a cycle, so be prepared if you’re wondering. For this, my main concern with fanfic writers is that they write how blood get everywhere, and I mean like on the ceiling kind of everywhere or like soaks through to the mattress and I’ll sit here so confused. So let Abby here inform you all about the basic 101 of the menstrual nsfw news.

First thing’s first is that it really does not get everywhere. I’ll be brutally honest in saying that when I do the deed, the aftermath and cleanup is not as bad as you think. Maybe just a quick rinse off or brush off, quick dab of a cool cloth with water on it -- you’re good. ( obviously do take care of your toys though, please: I just mean this in general ). And if you really are worried about the mess you might make, like I was the very first time, lay out a towel !! ( other option is the shower, just don’t slip friends ). Second thing: will it hurt? In my experience, it shouldn’t?? I hope it doesn’t and if you do feel pain, just stop. For me, personally, it tends to relieve a lot of my pain while, ultimately, satisfying my crave so I’m happy. Lastly, the oral implied in a lot of fanfic can be...excessive? And while this isn’t bad, it can also leave about a big chunk of the previous information and description from the color, smell, texture, even taste! ( for some reason there’s the popular cliche of the person raising their head after giving them head and they just see like the blood dripping down their chin and I’m like ??? not very realistic guys tbh ). Since we’ve covered the first two already we’ll jump into texture and taste: remember that the discharge during a cycle isn’t just blood. It’s a mixture of loose blood, bits of tissue from the lining that was shed, and your cervical mucus ( which mostly determines the texture as a whole ). Cervical mucus can change and differ but is mostly known for these main descriptions: tacky/sticky, creamy, milky, watery, etc. It’s mostly a matter of how dense it is whether it’s like a thick cream, a lotion, or water. Take into mind how the person giving oral will perceive this along with taste! Those little balls of flesh from your uterus lining the wall? Yeah, they’ll get some of that, and it will look black and that may be freaky but it’s honest. Despite the common mistake that period discharge tastes like the blood that comes from your arm or mouth, it does not. It will not have a super metallic-y taste and, overall, may not be pleasant ( also given how old it could be ). That doesn’t mean it can’t be good, to a degree, but don’t expect Dracula to be lusting after you.

I think that’s all I can currently think of, please add on if you can any more side-notes or comments, questions, etc. For you fanfic writers, please TAKE NOTE OF THIS. And to my girls out there, you keep rocking it, gorgeous.

#fanfiction tips #fanfic tip #fanfic tips #writer tips #writer tip #trigger warning blood #menstrual cycle #menstruation #periods #period writing #period smut #writing tips #writing tip

16 notes · View notes

whenisitnottimeforbed · 7 years

Text

Sweet Treats

*So, I've been away for quite some time(namely since one of the largest amounts of dissapointment in television I've felt since I lived through the Steve-Joe crisis on Blue's Clues), but have decided to write again because my muse struck me and I've got like 3 places I should be productively using it and instead of choosing one and forsaking the others, I've decided to ignore all three and use my precious creative currency on fanfiction.

(Also, because apparently people have started following me after said event, and it's not like I do anything else of value on here, so you know, don't bite the hand that feeds you...)

----

Never before had the lieutenant wanted a way to seek legal retribution on a weather person, but after today, she was seriously contemplating spending time googling what she could fit into the criteria of 'fraud' as a means of, at the very least, an entire 24 hours of grating inconvenience. In exchange for her own of course. She has been promised a week of sunshine, highs in the 90s and lows in the 80s, and perfect swells. A whole week, promised with 75%. If you aren't sure say 50%. Why did they even have a 50% as a thing? It literally meant they had no idea whatsoever; whatever it was was just as likely to happen as not as far as they could tell. You say there's a 50% chance of rain and who the h*ll knows what would happen and they're still allowed to call themselves 'right'. Ugh, Jaime Gordon, weather extraordinaire, was in for it if 'it' was at all, at any point, possible.

Abbie's head swung toward the door as the bamboo feature slammed open and the dim midday light flushed in against the golden florescent along with a onslaught of fat, juicy raindrops. That was, until the lights flickered and cut out. Not the first time today. Neither took too much notice as the light turned what could only be described as lukewarm.

"I've managed to retrieve a plate of buffalo wings," The gangling man pronounced the words with the same amount of semi-disdainful reluctance he mustered for all anachronisms he found ridiculous, "Though I fear the storm managed to claim our...tapas? As well as one of our drinks- as of yet I know not whose. The fried spam on rice, however, has made it unscathed within its styrofoam confines."

Looking at the man, unfitted to the tourist shirt, so bright and covered in stylized lei flower print as well as a new pair of Bermuda shorts he held up with an also fresh belt, the end hanging out like it was 1985, Abigail couldn't help a smile. The thin shirt fabric clung to the contours of his torso and teased transparency in its moistened state. He had looked so annoyed when she told him he couldn't wear his normal clothes to the beach- even though she had told him before they left to borrow somethings for the trip. On the other hand, the goofy smile he'd managed once he'd dressed himself and finally allowed her to snap a few pictures to keep for until the end of feasible time was well worth it. Now though, he dripped heavily on the wood floor and over to the lush carpet placed at the sides of the beds they'd acquired.

"Oh, Babe- I'm sorry you had to go out in that-" Abbie began, getting up from the plush bed to get to the en suite and grab one of the soft towels.

"-Or let you brave the winds otherwise? Dash the thought." Ichabod called to her as she went and he picked the shirt of his chest, flapping loose droplets from it,

"Storm like this might well have carried you away." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"You joke, but watch something like that actually happen one day. There are reasons I've never been to Chicago." Her own smile matched his own by the time she re-emerged and came to him with the linen spread between her arms. Without thinking much about it, but feeling the posture as soon as she'd made it, she stood up on painted toes and reached around his head. It was awkward to her and still somewhat unfamiliar, but just as she'd become recently accustomed to he stooped over toward her, his scruffy, warm, comforting, delicious face nearing hers, while she massaged the rain from his long hair, down the edges of his jaw; his neck. His chest. Her thumb caught on one of his buttons. It was amazing how easily it popped right open.

"Perhaps we'd do best to eat first..." His breath, the dropped pitch of his voice on the cusp of a whisper, and his sheer closeness quite nearly made her eyes roll back and sent a shiver down her spine. Her head closed the space between it and his softly, feeling the not-so-soft strands of his beard against her cheek bone and temple. She breathed his scent, exaggerated by the rain, and turned her head to press her lips to his cheek quickly before she lost her resolve to indeed eat the food he'd fought his way back here for at her off-hand remark about the possible lack of room service in the wake of the storm.

It had taken some time after finding out that- surprise, surprise- Danny was not only a no good, selfish, flaky superior but a pretty lack-f*cking-luster prospect for a progressing future lovelife for Abbie to recover. First Andy- sweet but too easily misguided, and then Danny. She tried to choose carefully but she had begun to doubt either herself or her prospects, maybe even a combination thereof. And on top of all the other crap that had been just falling from the sky, raining down like the seventh plague in work, from work, outside of work, it was just a period of turmoil.

Lo and behold though, she emerged on the other side with a clearer vision of what she needed, what she wanted, and what was waiting for her if she decided to reach out for it. She had reached almost 2 weeks ago, and now was on this vacation to reach a little farther. Well, that and to get away from the absolute f*ckery of the current FBI.

At some point in her life she had resolved herself to not brooding or nitpicking at finding the perfect 'moment', and so she did not wonder now, by sheer force of will, if she should have forgot the carry out boxes. Grabbing the two of them as well as the cup and plate while he took of his wet shirt, and draped the towel over his shoulders, she looked around.

"Where'd you put the forks?" The look on his face communicated his lapse in thought,

"Usually they put that in the container- that's what they do at the MacDonald's even. I didn't think it any different than usual." He began to stand.

"No- no, don't worry about it." She quickly stopped him, "You're not catching pneumonia on account of plastic ware. We can eat with our hands." Sitting down on the bed next to him, a knee up to face him, she passed him one container and opened her own. Inside was an almost overflowing pack of rice topped with delightfully edge-crisped spam pieces, a little thing that Abbie could only equate visually to a triangular hush puppy, and a little cubby stuffed full of pineapple chunks swimming in a clear glaze.

Around the conversational exchange about plans when the storm let up and comments of posted quips from friends on photos from the first day before they'd decided to use their phones as little as possible, were chuckles and giggles around falling food and messy hands. The food tasted superb- Ichabod gave it his own, tenuous, stamp of approval, citing if this is what they had to work with they had worked it well when speaking of the canned meat. The fruit went decidedly last, and after the salty meal, the sweet flavor popped even more.

"Abbie, these bananas-"

"The plantains?"

"Yes- Heaven alone knows why your temporal kin have made it their crusade to see what, if anything, can't be fried- but I must say this is delicious. On occasion of course, not for the day to day, but a strikingly delicious treat nonetheless. Have some." He offered happily, his fingers pinching two slices of the browned banana meat, lifted before her lips. Giving them a poking lick, she leaned in and pulled them into her mouth with a soft bite. He was right, they were good, but that wasn't why she gulped them down so quickly. She looked down at her container and licked her lips once again, pulling the plump flesh in to be as inconspicuous as possible while she reached in and pulled out a pineapple wedge, waiting for one of viscous drops to fall before lifting it to her lips and taking a bite out of it, nodding to it's own clear, citrus-y flavor doused in a thin, sweet syrup. She offered the rest it to him.

He glanced into her eyes for a moment that hovered in air for about as long as her missing heartbeat, but accepted the offering, his mustache tickling her outermost knuckle while his lips closed around her fingertips softly, briefly. Without thinking about it, and at the same time thinking of nothing else, she pulled her syrupy fingers back to her own lips and easily sucked them clean.

Who knew pineapples could be an aphrodisiac?

"You've missed a bit." he noted quietly, reaching out his hand, large and well used, to cup her whole cheek, brushing his thumb against the corner of her lips. Eyes glittering in each others' reflection, Ichabod's dropped to the thumb still softly stroking. His chest and shoulders heaved with a hungry breath as he looked to her lips and she felt hers fall slightly apart under his gaze. His face leaned closer and who knows where it was exactly when she closed her eyes and pressed forward to meet him.

His mouth engulfed her bottom lip, an ample supply of flesh for him to focus on. His facial hair tickled her the way she liked, and she lifted her hand to its place against his own cheek to keep him pressed to her, inhaling deeply through her nostrils as their mouths parted wide, readjusting and searching motivatedly for new corners of each other. She leaned into him more, lifting her bottom from the bed, chest now glued to his and feeling, somewhere in the peripheral of the sense, the styrofoam tipping onto her.

In movements slow and deliberate, and somehow at the same time quick and wasteless, Ichabod scooped the woman up into his arms off the bed and without breaking contact with her lips, moved her to the second bed merely a step away. He laid her down against it gently, leaned upon her body, her legs dangling over the edge on either side of him, the large t-shirt she had worn to cover her bikini when their plans had still included a day outside riding up to where it covered little to nothing at all. While she pulled the towel away from his shoulders, he pushed the hem of the garment up over her head and scooted her body under his deeper into the comforter and soft mattress, and in the fraction of a moment they had to part to get the thing off, he saw the smile on her face, and felt, as she did, at one with space, time, and partner.

#ichabbie #fanfic #ichabbie fanfic #ignoring what I want to make this go as smoothly as possible #abbie mills #ichabod crane #sleepy hollow #sleepyhollow #If you want the smut you're in the right place #well not this specific fic #but tumblr in general #trust me #i don't write smut yall #enjoi

38 notes · View notes