Alyssa, thirtysomething, chaos bi, intermittent fic writer currently kinda on hiatus because personal life started imitating art and everything got weird. {That tag is here for anyone who wants to see the "didn't think THIS was what 20 years of manifesting was gonna get me" adventure.} Here for the pretty and the emotions. I notoriously have a Type; hang out here long enough and you’ll see, or look at my ships / tags page here {probably not updated enough but it's most of 'em}. All my fic can be found in this tag, or try the most common ship name / tag if you’re looking for anything specific. I’m always open for prompts and tend to squirrel things for years if they don’t speak to me at a given moment, and I like talking to people - askbox and messages are always open, anon is on, let’s have feelings about fictional babes together! If you're tempted to send me half of a list for a particular ship, go ahead and send half the list, it will make my day. I do message new followers to reach out / say hi / get a sense of who’s here for what just for my own housekeeping purposes and to set the tone here. Enjoy!
I’m currently primarily screaming about: i have had this conversation word for fucking word and that sentence has not gotten more normal six months later; also and always doomed power couple that broke the world / THIS fixation wasn't supposed to last four years and counting but here we are!
other stuff I’m especially into right now: honestly, I've been rewatching more recent seasons of a few comfort-level reality shows. I don't have brainspace for anything with a plot but I do apparently have feelings about the past few seasons of Say Yes To The Dress.
I need to finish watching / establish tags and write fluff for: ...actually not a WATCH, but I need to listen through c1 of Critical Role and I'm putting that here as an accountability thing // thanks to the animated show, I do HAVE a fixation there that I wanna take apart, but...
Jessleto + feeling the shape of their body through their clothes.
Choice-era, vaguely nsfw, also on ao3.
He ought to leave her be. It’s proper, when a woman is in that kind of condition. Stay out of the way and handle what needs to be handled through other means.
But they haven’t been proper otherwise, Leto reminds himself. They’re broken nearly every other relevant protocol, and they’ve done it despite mutual understanding, and-
He’s not trying anything. He wouldn't dare. It’s just been two weeks since she drifted back to the other end of the hallway, and it would be nice to sleep next to her. He can justify that. Anything else would be a pleasant surprise.
The rumors he’s scared of her do have a little weight, he thinks, hesitating before he knocks on her door. Three years she’s been here now, long enough that he thinks they’ve reached an acceptable baseline of tolerating each other – he wouldn't dare assume she feels more than that, for all he knows her recent decisions are probably guided by some scheme that has nothing to do with him being brave enough to ask her for a sacrifice, and-
The door opens before he can quite get that far. Of course it does. He has a polite obliviousness about what she might be capable of, but it’s been obvious enough her senses run high, and for all he knows she might've been close, and-
“Is something wrong?"
“Is that the only reason you can think I might want to see you?”
“It’s the middle of the night. Give me a better one and I'll believe you.”
He’s not sure she would, but that's neither here nor there. Not something to worry about, not with her half glowing in moonlight, hair down and a practical nightgown and if women of her order are supposed to be inclined towards seduction then he’s pretty sure she’s defective, not that he’d ever say that to her or anyone else, he likes being alive, and-
“Turns out I don't enjoy sleeping alone.”
“And if I do?”
He suspects – another thing he’s nowhere near suicidal enough to actually say – that the idea of free will is rather new to her. He’s enjoyed watching her figure that out, and he’d never push back against it, but-
“I respect your decisions, if it is one.”
For a heartbeat he’s pretty sure she almost smiles. “And I assume you respect my hesitations as well.”
“As I am aware of them, yes.”
That is apparently enough for her to fold herself into his arms. They fit together differently now, with her body swollen, and-
He has an idea. Maybe one of the worst he’s ever had, but an idea that… at worst, will have him sleeping alone for the next year, he can’t imagine more dramatic pushback but-
“May I touch you?”
“In what way?”
“What would you tolerate?”
“Nowhere sensitive.”
He’d assume that much, he wants to say and doesn't, but-
“How thin is that nightgown?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You have liked barriers before."
“This covers everything that veil didn’t.”
“I only want to know what you have become. Nothing forward.”
“And what of your own needs?”
“I would not burden you.”
She rolls her eyes like they both know it’s never quite that simple, and-
“Fine. By the window, if you don't mind. Better light.”
She does have a certain way of always being right about things, he thinks as he follows her. That nightgown is almost transparent, and perhaps this is her newest compromise, and-
“Say, if I wrong you.”
“Why speak when I can just move your hands?”
He knows she’ll do neither. His hands spread across her abdomen, and it is so strange to think that in a few months they will have a child, and-
“Has everything been-”
“Perfect, yes. Our son is safe.”
Leto wants to push further, ask what exactly she knows there, but that veers towards questions he knows not to touch with a pole and he doesn't want to ruin what seems like one of her better moods and-
Her fingers curl around one of his wrists and drag his hand lower, below the new curve of her, and-
“You said-”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“How quickly will you change it again?”
“After I’ve been reminded how good you are with your hands.”
She’s rarely so direct about intimacies, and he feels a wave of desire for her. If she feels comfortable enough to ask after her own needs, he won't push that, but-
“Let me get comfortable and you can do what you will.”
Comfortable apparently means bent over the windowsill, hips up and a pillow beneath her to keep her breasts from bruising. Always so practical, this woman he loves, and-
“How much do you mean?”
“What makes you think-”
“You hate this position."
She turns her head and there, finally, there is the venom she’s so talented at. “I do have… limitations, at the moment. We do what we must.”
“I won't have you hurt yourself for me."
“Then don't make it abut you.”
There’s too much tension for him to think she means everything she thinks she’s offering. She’d let him enjoy her, yes, but he knows her signals well enough to know when she’s uncertain, and he won’t have her distressed, and-
Kneeling feels like an acceptable compromise. He’s never sure what she enjoys, and his own preferences are what they are, but-
He feels her breath catch before he even does anything more than figure out a comfortable position. She is everything, he thinks, and he can’t do much else she’d tolerate to make her condition easier, she’s too stubborn for creature comforts, but he can justify giving her pleasure a little better and-
“Say, if you are overwhelmed."
“And if I already am?”
“Distressed, then.”
“Not yet.”
He takes that as permission to start kissing her petals. She’s soft enough to make him think she’s into this, or at least not actively hostile about it, always the retractions with her, he could and wants to spend the rest of his life adoring her and he still won't understand her on the day he dies and-
A slight tilt of his head towards her nerve bud. She’s always so quiet, and someday he wants to see what he can do to change that but not right now, not with so much else going on, and-
“Do you mean to ruin my thighs?” Playful like she so rarely is, and he knows her, he knows she’ll treasure the scruff marks, he knows-
He’ll talk later. After.
For now there is only this, only how beautiful her fragile places are. He’s never sure of her signals, but he’s pretty sure he gives her a release and then carries on, only this until she stops him, until-
Her fingernails in his scalp are enough of a cue, he decides. Just sharp enough for him to get the hint.
He drapes her nightgown back over her hips on the way up, and perhaps she did have a point about the state of her thighs, perhaps-
“Was that what you needed, my storm?"
“I would ask what you feel the need to apologize for, but-”
“Unless I am deeply misled, I did cause your current condition."
“You did,” she murmurs, tilting her head to take a kiss. “I barely have the patience for you, whatever would make you think I might take another lover?”
“I have no such suspicions.”
“Good.”
They end up a tangle of limbs n the window seat, unsure where one ends and the other begins, there is something near-primal about them right now and-
“You do mean to stay,” she breathes, not quite a question.
Kastle prompt: discussing getting a dog orrr one of them being like "I found this, can we keep it??”
PG-ish and also on ao3.
It happens, as such things do, at two in the morning.
What exactly Frank is even doing awake at that hour, let alone taking a detour through an alley, is… not the point. What matters is his hands are free, his mind is clear, and he hears…
It takes him a moment to place the noise, to locate it to a box near an overflowing dumpster. He likes animals, but he doesn't spend much time around them, and his most consistent furry interactions are bodega cats, not-
“You look like you've had a worse night than I have.”
He’s heard there are dogfights around here. Not anywhere he'd go, for work or otherwise, but close enough he’s heard rumors. The animal curled up in a box don’t even look full-grown – not that Frank is about to confidently guess the age on something that looks part pitbull – and it’s alive and making eye contact, and-
Karen is either going to kill him or propose when she sees this. It’s coming home with him either way.
He manages to get twenty-odd pounds of dog into the front of his jacket with minimal complaining. It’s not actively bleeding anywhere that looks scary, and the first-aid kit at home can handle the rest, he figures. Can’t be that much different to patch up a dog than a human, right? This thing looks more neglected than anything else, and-
By the time Frank gets home, the dog is asleep. It’s late, and he’s running the odds of whether his partner will be awake and this hasn’t become any better of an idea in the past half hour and on the other hand Karen did say once she’s a dog person so it’s not like he’s knowingly bringing home something she’s allergic to or-
Of course, she’s awake. Of course, she’s giving him those worried eyes. So much for everything.
“I found it,” Frank says. Might as well get ahead of the situation. “Figure we patch it up and-”
“You are not dropping that thing off at a shelter in the morning," Karen says before he can even try to pretend. “I know you better than that.”
“Puppy’s a commitment."
“So is a boyfriend who likes to get shot at.”
She’s not wrong. She’s never wrong.
“They still say don't get anything alive as a present.”
“Good thing you did this for you, Frank.”
Karen drifts closer and unzips his jacket and gets her arms around the dog, which decides that’s the right time to wake up and process its new home. Doesn't try to wriggle out of her hands, but doesn't look like it’s having the time of its life either, and-
“You ever given a dog a bath?”
“No ma’am.”
“C’mon.”
Frank has never had a pet, in the normal sense. His parents weren’t that kind of people, and then he was never… home long enough for anything like that, he’s pretty sure the kids had fish at one point but that didn’t overlap with the rare occasions he was any kind of around, and then after that his life hasn’t been compatible, and-
It is now, he realizes. It is now, as he watches his girlfriend glance at a few labels before deciding which of her shampoos is probably safest for an injured puppy. It ain’t everything yet, and maybe it never will be, but it’s enough, and-
“Wanna hold him still, or wanna make sure this doesn't get in his eyes?”
“Better if I hold him.”
He’s stronger, he figures. Not that he’s stupid enough to tell Karen what her capabilities are, but he’s just a bigger body in the grand scheme of things, and that might matter when dealing with a possibly unhappy wet dog, or-
Right. Dogs like baths. It’s cats that don't like water, right?
Frank isn’t about to acquire a menagerie, but he’s not opposed to this here right now. Karen has gentle hands, he knows that from enough personal experience, and she gets a nice layer of ick off the dog without significant yowling or worse, and this feels like a win, and-
“He’s not bleeding anywhere.”
“Checked that before I grabbed him.”
“You know how fast things change. I think… I’ll check tomorrow, take him to a vet, might be nice if you come-”
“Think this looks like a fix-it pet?”
“A what?”
“Like how some people have kids to fix their relationships, except-”
“Is it a fix-it pet?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Hold my hand and I don't think it’ll look weird.”
He will. He’d do anything for her. For the three of them, now – and how easy it is to accept there’s another member of the household, just like that, and-
“You ever think about the human kind?”
“Not really.”
So, that’s a conversation for later, if not never, if not-
✱˚｡⋆ ↪ THE 𝐒TAGES OF 𝐈NTIMACY. a collection of various action prompts centered around the varying stages of intimacy. feel free to adjust as desired. heavily mature content, dni with this post if you are under 18, & DO NOT use these prompts for non-con scenarios. )
SETTINGS.
[01.] finding privacy in a cramped dressing room.
[02.] cramming into the backseat of a car together.
[03.] slipping into the lonesome alleyway behind the bar for "time alone".
[04.] pulling them away from a party after hours of relentless teasing.
[05.] getting handsy under the table at a fancy dining establishment.
[06.] taking the long way home and pulling over on a dark stretch of road.
[07.] staying behind at the venue after everyone else has left.
[08.] the hotel room door barely clicks shut before hands are on them.
[09.] a tent in the middle of nowhere where no one can hear anything.
NEW TERRITORY.
[10.] finding yourself staring at their mouth and getting caught.
[11.] pulling back from a kiss to look at them, then immediately going back in.
[12.] memorizing the shape of them for the first time with your palms.
[13.] that exploratory first kiss, reserved and shy.
[14.] a gentle first kiss that morphs into intense want.
[15.] feeling the shape of their body through their clothes.
[16.] asking for permission to remove one of their garments.
[17.] finally succumbing to the thick tension & colliding feverishly.
[18.] fumbling with buttons or zippers because your hands won't stop shaking.
[19.] admitting out loud that you've been thinking about this for a while.
HEATING UP.
[20.] pulling them into your lap in the midst of a heated kiss.
[21.] discovering that they're wearing [ GEAR / LINGERIE ] under their clothes.
[22.] kissing away from their lips, down the length of their neck.
[23.] desperately grinding on them through layers of clothing.
[24.] dirty talking directly into their ear to turn them on even further.
[25.] pushing them onto a piece of furniture before straddling them.
[26.] lifting them onto the countertop while making out.
[27.] tugging their hair to expose more of their throat to your mouth.
[28.] the wrecked way they say your name for the first time.
[29.] fabric tearing because neither of you has the patience for buttons.
[30.] removing an obstacle of clothing with your teeth.
UNRAVELING.
[31.] biting down on their shoulder to muffle how good it feels.
[32.] the sound they make when you find the spot that undoes them.
[33.] begging without any trace of pride left and meaning every word.
[34.] their composure cracking for the first time, they finally stop holding back.
[35.] repeating "don't stop" like it's the only language left in their mouth.
[36.] leaving possessive marks in places only they'll see.
[37.] whispering "look at me" right before you take them apart.
[38.] trying to be quiet and failing, so they clamp a hand over your mouth.
[39.] flipping positions so fast neither of you remembers who initiated it.
[40.] their nails dragging down your back hard enough to sting later.
[41.] being told to open your mouth and doing it before the sentence is finished.
[42.] having your hands pinned above your head.
[43.] the desperate scramble to get closer when there is no closer to get.
COMING DOWN.
[44.] fingers lazily tracing the marks they just left on your skin.
[45.] pulling the blanket over both of you without being asked.
[46.] that silent, dazed smile when they catch your eye across the pillow.
[47.] the shaky laugh when neither of you can remember where your shirt is.
[48.] going to get water and bringing a glass back for them without asking.
[49.] lying chest to chest, feeling their heartbeat slow back down against yours.
[50.] the quiet "hey" that means something completely different now.
[51.] "come here" said softly — not urgently. just wanting them close again.
Birthday is, uh, technically in an hour and a half and I'm not having the expected crashout!! This relative stability brought to y'all by low-dose antidepressants and an actual kitten, I guess??
I love asking people how their parents met. You always get an interesting reply. My best friend’s parents met on the relatively new internet in 1999. My other friend’s parents met at Burger King when one was the manager and the other was a regular customer. My parents met at the beach because they were neighbors in their rental houses, mom was on a church trip and dad was getting blackout drunk every night with his friends next door.
