#But idk something else I thought of that was oh fuck here's another problem

[worldlxvlys]

yes i’m so sorry i should’ve been more specific but i need what happens when they go inside lol😭 (dwb!chris pt 16)

every word

dwb! chris x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, suggestive but no actual smut

a/n: first off you’re all good, no need to apologize i was just confused lmao

also, idk if you wanted smut or not but this one felt like it needed to be more on the fluffier side. if you want another part with smut, i can do that just lmk

hope you like :)

here’s part one (dwb! chris pt 16), if you haven’t make sure to read it first !!

————-

we both went inside, closing the door behind us.

“hmmm, you know the most effective way to warm up? “ chris said, a smirk growing on his face.

“how?” i squinted my eyes at him.

“a hot shower” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“hmm sounds good. so me first, or you?” i asked, feigning innocence.

he gave me a deadpanned look. “you’re not serious”

“are you trying to ask me something, chris?” i asked wanting to hear him say it.

“can we shower together?” he asked.

“hmmm, i suppose” i said, pretending to think about it first.

“ok but first, i gotta do something” he said pulling out his phone.

my eyebrows furrowed as i watched him.

“ok?”

i watched as the dial tone rang while he put the phone on speaker.

“hello?” a woman’s voice picked up.

“hey, it’s chris”

“hey! yeah i know i saved your num-“ before she could even finish he cut her off.

“yeah, cool, listen i just wanted to make one thing clear. you’re my supplier and that’s it”

his supplier. the supplier.

“so if you thought this was anything more you’re wrong. i have a girlfriend, and she is the only girl in the world for me. so the flirting and touching needs to stop”

there was a pause.

“oh! but chris-“

but? nah fuck this bitch.

i cut her off “but nothing, he told you he’s taken. is there a problem? do i need to send you a sex tape or something for you to get the memo?

chris’s eyes widen, his mouth open and closing like a fish’s.

“um, no no. sorry”

“yeah you will be if you ever fucking touch him again”

“uh, ok. sorry “

“stop apologizing. you didn’t know, but now you do”

“ok…well, bye”

with that i hung up. chris just stared at me with wide eyes.

we both looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“your supplier’s a pussy” i said gasping for air.

“she’s normally not like that, but i don’t blame her. you sounded like you were genuinely gonna fuck her up”

we both continued to laugh.

“thank you for calling her, i didn’t think you were actually going to” i said as he drew circles onto my hips with his thumbs.

“of course, baby. i didn’t just say that stuff to gain your forgiveness. i meant every word” he said, staring deep into my eyes.

“every. word.” he said before leaning in, pressing his lips to mine in a soft kiss.

when we broke away he spoke, “hey, do you wanna do a bath instead of a shower?”

“um yeah, sure. how come ?” i asked.

“baths are more romantic” he smiled as he cupped my jaw.

“plus shower sex can be dangerous” he added.

i rose my eyebrows, “um, who said anything about sex ?”

“well how else would we make a tape to send her ?” he asked.

my eyes widen, “you’re fucking crazy” i said, my face breaking out into a grin.

“it was your idea, ma”

———————

hope you liked it <333

dwb! masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @frankeelovesthesturnio @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fic #sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo

[pryllee]

Sly kitty.

Scara x Fem! Reader

Flirting, SLIGHTLY suggestive, modern AU, college AU, idk

A/N: Finally decided to post this after it collected dust for like a month or three in my drafts/privated.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Part 1 / Part 2

You sat there, across from Scara as you stabbed into your lunch with your mind wandering away. As the blood drains even harder from your face, his smirk that he tried to hide so badly failed thrice as hard.

"Why so gloomy?" His eyes flickered to your hand, following the movement of a fork hammering into your food up and down.

"What silly trick do you have up your sleeve up this time, hmm?" You glare, cutting a portion, shoving it down your throat one after another.

"Oh come on, if this is what a bad day looks like, you clearly won't be liking tomorrow, dear." He laughs, making a portion almost go down your lungs,

"Excuse me? Tomorrow what now?" You grasp onto your sore throat making him laugh harder, was that meant to be sarcasm? You flush a slight red gritting your teeth, rushing to grab a random book from your bag, slamming it HARD against his face almost making his nose bleed.

"Ow fuck! Calm down, it was just a joke!" He pinches his nose, his head leaning backwards to apparently 'help' with the escaping blood, at this rate, you're hoping he dies from the slow increasing lack of blood in his body. "Piss off." You slide the book back in your bag, walking away with the tray with a bunch of leftovers on it.

"Ah whats her problem? I thought girls liked flirting." He stared at your fading silhouette.

As soon as class ends, you slowly shake your head around trying to spot Scara. You find him with a small tissue rolled up inside his nostril, exiting the classroom.

"Ah... wait!" You run to grab his shoulder, "Hm?" He glanced at you as a random girls voice echoes throughout the hall over to you both.

"Scara-kun? Are you coming?" His attention is diverted over to someone. Who..? No way, did he already get a girlfriend right after calling me that stupid pet name? Ah seriously this little.... - You look over, seeing a girl whos far younger than anyone here. "What? Who is she...?"

"Are you talking about Keni? Just a kid I agreed to tutor after school. I don't know why but her mom trusts me a lot." A vivid image of a middle aged woman pops up in your mind, with a thumbs up gesture. Quote; 'You can do it! Its your chance!'

"Do you have anyone at your house today? If not... I could whip something up for you over there." You give a wry smile in hopes of acceptance, his eyes lit up slightly. "Sure, you don't really need to make me anything though, Keni would love some pancakes." He walked away, clearly trying to hide something as Keni followed behind, running energetically.

–

Fast forward over to his house, you grab an apron, and some basic needs to start cooking. - Hmm... I wonder what he likes. Should I just make him some chicken katsu? I guess I'll make that and pancakes for me and Keni.

You started to make the batter for the pancakes, overhearing some distinct chatter between the two at the table. You were so focused on something else, that you almost tipped over the entire bowl of the batter, though you still spilled quite a lot.

A sudden shock overtakes you, making your face flush a bright red and skin burn when a hand latches onto your waist, and another onto your wrist. "Be careful. You're no use if you'll end up spilling everything. It's already a hindrance that you have a huge mess piled up." His voice felt like it was blowing gently into your ear, his chest pressed against your back as his hand guided yours.

You hear a little snicker from behind as you shove his hand and slap away the leeching hand on your waist. "I can do it myself, or if you want I can burn this whole place down."

"Oh sure thing miss professional, step aside and let me follow your amazing tutorial." He takes your spot in cooking, as you end up being shoo'ed away with a gesture to 'go wash up'

Meanwhile, Keni is well... a little flabbergasted.

-

As you start to wash yourself up, your hand navigates itself over to your chest, feeling your heart beating faster than ever. Your skin burning a pinkish hue, as a new feeling pops up in your heart, your stomach feeling like there was a huge pit, it felt like something was missing, it felt like so odd. — I must be going insane. —

He was a good friend, but everytime you began to love him, a huge anxious pit developed inside your stomach, which made you feel unsure.

He has never had any interest in love. After all, he is a puppet with no heart, can you really trust him knowing that? A huge sense of guilt overlapped your whole body, running fingers through your hair. You weren't even sure if you deserve to be apart of his lives chapter at all.

After all, this has and had always happened to you. You shook it off, trying to finish your little 'wash up' time as quickly as possibly. "Hmm... I didn't bring any spare clothes. But there is a clean pair right here..."

You walk out, drying your hair with a towel as you saw them eating... Well. Only Keni was eating, however Scara was just drinking tea, I guess he still likes tea.

His clothes smelled good, and it felt warm. "Oh, those... are my clothes." He scanned your figure, looking dazed as he takes larger sips of his extremely dark tea.

"Should I change out of them?" You tease, making him flush a pinkish red. "Nnnooo...." raised your eyebrows at him.

"Oh well, your clothes are comfortable, where do you buy them?"

"Its a little difficult to describe, but if you want I can show you where tomorrow. Perhaps you could consider it a date." His frown turned upside down sheepishly,

"Ah... what?"

"Nothing, however I am assuming thats a yes." His eyes flickered over to Kenis papers, sitting down beside her. "Alright, so you should..."

His voice faded out into the background, giving you time to contemplate on what he had just said. You took your phone out, looking at the time to find its already super late.

"Ha...?" Confused, you restart your phone biting on your nails. "I should get going..."

Only whispering to yourself, but it managed to catch his attention. "You're leaving already? Its quite late isn't it?" As he continued to help the little girl beside him.

"Uh... Its not like I really have anything going on at home but...-" cut off, "Just stay here for the night. Its just one night after all." You stayed silent, watching his movement helping Keni, wait... Has she been listening in silenc–

Now fastforward to a few hours later, he guides you over to the guestroom, "You can stay in this room, but if its too dusty for you, you could take a look at the other one." He asked, glancing over to check the expression plastered onto your face.

"It's fine, its just for a night anyway, thanks for trying to keep me safe though I'm clearly responsible enough." You tease, settling into the room.

He stared shortly, before closing the door, walking away to his room with a blank expression. "Hm... "

-

Not any later into the midnight, you woke from your sleep due to a nightmare, eyes flashing open with your chest heaving up and down. "Shit... My head.." It felt like someone had stuck a needle through your head due to the piercing pain that stuck from the nightmare.

You held onto your head as you nauseously walked out of your half-opened rooms door. You reached out your left hand, holding your head with the other as you tried to count the doors away to his room.

You pushed a door open, walking inside assuming it was his. His eyes quickly shot over to you concerned, he was wrapped with a fluffy soft blanket as he played on a 'Xbox'. "... Huh?" He spoke with a quizzical tone calling out your name, walking to you with the blanket, wrapping you with it instead.

"Uh, you alright?" Brows slightly furrowing, you nodded; "Yes.. Kind of.." You sighed. Burrowing yourself into his blanket, trying to wrap yourself like a burrito,

"Go back to your room, I'll make you a hot choco... If you even can by yourself." You nodded, walking out again with the blanket loosely yet tightly wrapped around your body, falling onto your mattress still feeling sick to the core.

You heard his wary footsteps, turning you around and making you sit up, "Can't you drink it by yourself?" You nod in response, but he sighed in annoyance as he placed the mug over to your lips for easy access to the hot choco.

Watching your lips slowly be stained from the hot choco and slightly glistening each second dusted his cheeks with a pinkish hue. Till you stopped and mumbled about something like; ’'m too full..’ as you fell asleep straight away. He scoffed at the sight of the possibly wasted leftovers, only to decide on drinking it. And he hoped your dang 'condition' isn't infectious.

Now morning, the sun eagerly shone onto your face peeking from the blinds. "Ugh... It's already morning...?" You whined, tossing around in bed sleepily.

Someone knocked... once-twice-thrice, on your door waking you up alertly, "You awake yet?" The voice seemed to be Scara behind the locked door.

"Come in...– Oh wait, the doors locked." sighed, you did. Getting up making the 'soft fluffy' blanket fall, and to lazily unlock the door, twisting the knob opening it for him.

"You said you wanted to check out the place I buy clothes at, how come you're still so tired?" He scolded.

"Ugh...-gimme a break. It's so early." You sobbed back in response, yet he pointed at the wall clock somehow right infront of 'your room', the time showing 10:21 am

"It's the perfect time to go now, unless you want the parade to be rained on when we have to go home around 2 pm." Crossing his arms, "Oh c'mon, are we even gonna take that long?" complained, you did.

"I'll just go shower first. You better be alert and awake when I come back." He complained back, walking away downstairs to shower, you scoffed angrily throwing yourself back into bed for a few minutes before getting back up—You are the one who did ask after all.

You walked slowly downstairs, sitting down near the table in another sleeping type of position as you burrowed your head into the table.

"I'm done, you can go now, you can borrow one of my moms extra pair of clothing." He said while drying out his hair with a towel, walking away upstairs to do something.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

yea thats it. I'll make a part 2 in idk

#prylleewrites—✮ #scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara x fem! reader #scaramouche x fem! reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x afab! reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

[liyuee-qixing]

Harbinger with a kitsune gn!s/o

Tw: nothing to be worried about,reader is 500 y/o bc Kitsune,Reader is a tease,Taking bath together in scaramouche part but nothing too specified,reader wear hairpiece on Dottore part

Character included: Scaramouche,Dottore, Pantalone

Synopsis: You're a Kitsune that strangely work for the tsaritsa instead of the electro archon due to a contract between tsaritsa and ei. You're also the tsaritsa right hand. Much higher rank than the harbingers

Note:IM NO LONGER ON WRITER BLOCK WAHAHAHAHAH,btw im very very very sick lately probably going t hospital but idk‼️‼️‼️🤯🤯,BTW THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITTING G/N READER TELL ME IF I MADE A MISTAKE

Scaramouche

He can never understand why a Kitsune like you is serving under another archons,aren't you supposed to be with ei right now?

The time his eyes met you,you gave him an annoying and strangely sweet grins,he turn his head away with a tint pink blush on his face. And oh fuck it was clearly a love at the first sight

You both have a proper conversation when you and him have to discuss something regarding ei gnosis,he couldn't focus,his mind were on you all of the time.

The way you praise him so nicely is bringing heat to his cheeks,the way his cheeks turn red in a split of second by your compliment,just by saying "good boy"

How truly lucky he is to have an s/o as beautiful as you, your sweet grins,Your Soft five tails. The way you dressed,the way your ears goes up,make him even more inlove, He's a soft lover,he never once to call you a name.

He then learned you and ei have a conflict 500 year ago,that why you didn't serve her. He feel relieved someone share the same struggle and problem like him

You were having a day off,thinking nothing will get wrong in the fatui organization,that until you heard a loud bang coming from your door,it was your boyfriend. He look furious and mad

"oh my love,what happened?"you questions him, you soon wipe the sweat on his forehead and kiss him on the cheeks to make him relax. He calmed down,his expression changed

"someone annoying bitch gave another party our information and now the plan is ruined,I swear they're going to be-"he said,back with the full rage and anger.

"how about I prepare a bath for us two,if you're comfortable of course,you can tell what happened while I was your back"scaramouche expression drop,a red blush were on his face,you two do cuddles or something more intimate but never one the idea of taking bath together come to his mind,he just scoff and nods at you

"I wish you were at work,it would've been so much better having you on my side"he mutter as you start to pour shampoo on his hair,vanilla scent,very fitting for him. He then went on about his day,before he goes unusually quiet in middle of the conversation

"lately I also have very frequently nightmares and thoughts about her, sometimes i wonder, what wrong with me"he whispered,the room goes really quiet. Only splash of water seem to be audible,you understand what he's been through,you have been through the same situation as him,you understand what he is feeling right now,the feelings of being worthless and fear

"as long as you're here with me,you'll be fine,you can pat my tail if you feel anxious"you said, leaving kisses on his cheeks. (Mommy issues Scara lmao)

Il Dottore

Man without respect sorry not sorry, he's a high Ranking Harbinger himself so he often he doesn't treat anyone with respect,not even Pierro. But when he saw you,he gives you on full respect (simpttore real)

Oh you need help with something,he offer you a hand, something not someone like Dottore usually do. For tsaritsa sake this man a crazy scientist,killed and abused so many child,then why does he has such a soft spot for you!? The other fatui harbingers tease him about it all day when they're all gather but he always denied his feeling that he end up bottling it

He also couldn't help but stares when he see you talking but in flirting manner with someone else,namely tartaglia and Signora

His face was a mess when you confessed you like him too,he feel like he's the luckiest man in the world that time. Sometimes he doubt do he deserves you

He's most interested with the Kitsune feature you have. He usually inspect it when you weren't looking around or is asleep,and how shocked he are when you suddenly purr. Was pretty hesitant about continuing his inspection at first but since purring mean that you're happy about it he just continue,still worried about you waking up tho.

When you assure him it fine to play with your tail and ear,he goes insane,he took every chance to pat and rub it,he sometimes even comb it and decorate it with bow bc he thought it look pretty.

It was a normal day at work, Everything was going well with getting the Electro Gnosis Plan,The tsaritsa has to be excused as soon as the meeting ended,So she ordered You And Pierro to take control for a while. But mostly it's you to take control

"those are the worksheet, nothing too Much to do,Just some yearly interviews and overall opinion on the current discussed plan, please give it to the right hand after you're done"Pierro explained while he give the harbingers the worksheet.

Pierro finished first, followed by Pulcinella and Capitano,Dottore then followed fourth

But to your surprise he doesn't just give you the worksheet,He then attend to pat and rub your ear with a high pace,this doesn't go unnoticed by the other harbinger

"Dottore,the fuck are you doing there"scaramouche question as he watch the scene. Dottore didn't instantly answer him.

"fluffy ear"was only his answer before he continues to pats your ears with a fast and high pace

"what a very specific answer,thank you Dottore"columbina sarcastically said. Never once in the harbingers life they see Dottore act like this.

"hey stop it, you're going to ruin my hairpiece,why is your opinion is blank?"you asked, grabbing his wrist to stop him from patting you

"I don't have an opinion"he said, Trying to move his hand from your grip,it impressive how you grip both of his hand with just one hand.

"go back and fix it"you finally let go of his wrist and hand him back his worksheet

"no"before he know,a strike of lightning was behind him,he only uttered a small sigh before he sat down to his chair.

"wow.. they're surely very serious at work,if I was you Dottore,I would never do something like that again"Childe whispered to Dottore,dottore still look mildly annoyed,the other harbinger just agree with him

"they're a crazy maniac sometimes,I wonder how I'm still alive,they also strach me when they're on the Kitsune form sometimes. Ugh."he sigh before he responded to childe while he start writing down his opinion

"hey I heard you"you glared at him,I guess someone will not be petting your ear for a week straight

Pantalone

He know you for so long,He treat you just the same with everyone,with respect,it just that you seem to have more respect beside the tsaritsa but it not because you're the right hand of her. He doesn't know is it because your caring attitude or was it your beautiful appearance or was it your hardworking personality,it seem like he like everything about you,and it also seem like you feel the same way about him

He's the type of guy to instantly take it to a serious relationship,he couldn't be more happier when you accept his marriage proposal. He prepared everything for your both wedding. The fanciest and most luxurious things must be served for his dear s/o.

But he couldn't help but thought about something,he has a ginger cat on his house called Mora,He wonder if Mora's Fur is softer than your or no. He never once to touch you around tails or ear before and he's worried if he do it you'll get uncomfortable

Of course you notice it,you assure it's fine,his favourite time to pats you are when you're on your Kitsune form,your ear and tails is always soft but something about the Kitsune form just felt softer.

He let you sleep on his arm when he do his work,he like the warmth you both share.

When you're off work,he sometimes ask you to accompany him to the meeting,you will sleep on his lap or arm, sometimes the meeting table. The other harbinger only can questions about it. He like it when you're around him

The meeting about to start 15 minutes later,all of the harbingers already circling the meeting table. Yet they seem to can't get their eyes off something. Your appearance, laying on Pantalone lap and asleep,ear perked up.

"err.. why is the her Majesty right hand here?, aren't they supposed to have a day off?"Signora asked, slightly concerned.

"oh yea, they're accompanying me. What? Can't I bring them with me, they're my s/o after all"he said,with the same exact smile painted on his face,the one that make the other harbingers annoyed the most. How could you fall in love with this super annoying man?! But after the meeting ended. You were called for a urgent matter. While you're gone the harbinger tend to be talking about you

"I got a question for you in the name of science,How does their tails felt like?"Dottore question.

"yeah!I always imagined it's to be soft"then Childe followed, it's seem like the harbinger Is way more interested in you than he imagine

"what a magnificent creature"Signora also seem to agree on the current topic,soon most of the harbinger start also to question it. Only those who respectful enough to know your role that didn't question it. Namely Pierro, Pulcinella and Capitano

"hey who give you the right to-"he was about to start threatening them,until you show up.

"why don't you find it out yourself"you cut his words. The harbinger was shocked by your sudden appearance. Meanwhile your lover seem to be concerned at your words

"hey,are you saying it's not a special treatment I get"he asked,eyebrow knitted together.

"no."you gave him a sly grins before the harbingers burst into laugh.

Off topic,Kagamine Len haunt me. Where my Shiho😔😔💔💔

#dottore fluff #genshin imagines #fiction #dottore x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone fluff #pantalone x you #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui fluff

[ladylooch]

a fic where nico fucks the reader in the shower?

A/N: Omg… I thought you would never ask 😉 Enjoy!!!! Also, Idk what it is about a man washing hair, but it gets me every time. Like it’s so sweet… and innocent.. and mundane.. but so romantic. AH!

Word Count: 2.3k

P.S. How do we like this banner 👇🏻? Is it clear to you what you’re getting into? I’m thinking of adding this to all my smut fics, but was curious on how it would be received. 

My second time in Switzerland with Nico is going swimmingly. We have indulged in amazing food, done some sight seeing, and explored a couple hiking trails through easy, lower elevation spots. I’m even starting to recognize my way around Bern when Nico and I visit the local cafe for espresso’s each morning.

But the Hischier family reunion is proving to be much deeper water than I anticipated. Nico told me it was a family party, but as we were walking in to the hotel event space, Luca explained it was a reunion. Nico had looked at me with concern, but I shrugged it off, wondering how hard this was actually going to be.

The problem? Not many of them speak fluent English and I don’t know more than a few words in Swiss German. I don’t think spewing swearwords at his extended family members is a good first impression. 

Nico was instantly pulled in so many different directions, as per usual. At first, we tried to stay together, but it became impossible with the size of the crowd and attention. I’ve had so many family members come up and try to speak to me. We sputter through the little English they know before they move along to someone else they can communicate with. The noise in the room is loud with laughter and animated talking. A throb is beginning to pulse through my brain. I try to ignore it, but know with my history, this will be a long night if I don’t find some quiet. Luckily, we have a room booked upstairs for the night to avoid any sort of traveling after the consumption of numerous adult beverages.

I scan the room for my husband. Nico is with his parents and a few cousins I’ve met before. I sneak up next to Nico, but the way Rino is standing, I can’t get completely into the circle. I awkwardly reach out and lace my fingers with Nico’s left hand, catching my finger prints on his ring. He looks over his shoulder at my touch and smiles, turning sideways to pull me in.

“Oh I’m sorry, y/n.” Rino says when he sees me, making even more room for me. Shit. I just wanted to let Nico know I was heading upstairs, not be consumed in another conversation. 

“It’s okay.” I give him a sweet smile and then drop my gaze to the floor. The group laughs at something Nico’s cousin is saying in Swiss German. I tilt my lips in acknowledgement, but it’s all I can muster right now. I turn to look into Nico’s face. He looks so happy and at ease. I feel shamefully guilty for wanting to leave, but I know if I stay here and continue to socialize, I’m going to start shutting down in overwhelm.

“Babe.” I whisper to him, hoping to only get his attention. It works. His brown eyes slide to me and his hand on my lower back pulls me tight as he leans his ear closer to me. “I’m going to go back to our room.” My voice stays at whisper level; he nods in acknowledgement.

“Are you okay?” He whispers against my ear after brushing our cheeks together.

“Yeah, I’m just… tired.” I say because I can’t think of what else to describe meeting every family member of your husband’s extended family in one night in which you can only communicate well with about four of them. Nico pulls slightly away and looks into my eyes. I know he can see what I mean. He gives me a reassuring, sweet kiss.

“Okay.” He turns so his back is blocking me from the group and he places a hand on my hip to nudge back. Then, he ushers me to leave without making a scene. My eyes flutter gratefully at him and I make a dash to leave without any more interruptions. As I leave, I can feel Nico’s eyes on me. Something about it feels possessive and my skin breaks out into goosebumps.

When I get to our room, I immediately begin to shed my clothes. Since leaving the loud space, my head has begun to pound in sync with my heartbeat at my temples. I know a nasty tension headache is coming for me. Despite cold showers being generally better for headaches, a warm one always helps ease mine away. I place my hands on the cool, porcelain sink and suck in a deep breath. The relief I feel at finally being alone consumes me. I am so tried and weirdly sore? The tension in my neck and shoulders needs to be rubbed away. I’m hopeful this shower will do the trick. 

I reach for the stainless steel knobs and turn the glass shower to a soothing heat. The water is hot, but not so hot that it will scald my skin. Instead, it will wrap around me like a warm blanket with the steam. I don’t bother to close the door to the bathroom, knowing there is no risk to unwanted eyes on me here. The Swiss sure know how to create an air of privacy and seclusion.

When I step into the shower, I sigh in happiness as the warm water begins to tap along my neck and shoulders. I dip my chin to rest almost against my chest and feel the releasing of my muscles. The steam swirls around my legs, wrapping them in it’s warmth. I close my eyes to allow the water to cascade over my face, taking my make up off with each drop. I already feel a little better. 

I grab my face wash and scrub at my eyes to get the remaining mascara off of them. The rest of my makeup washes away effortlessly with the soap. I hold my fingers to my temples and press into them for a count of ten, then release and feel the next edge of pain wash away with the water. I suck in another deep breath, holding it and then releasing it. I’m feeling better with each passing second.

I turn around, letting my brown hair fall down my back and soak in the stream of the shower head. My eyes are closed to avoid the water spray but I step slightly forward so I can open them to grab my shampoo. My gaze immediately lands on Nico. Despite his sudden appearance, I am not shocked to see him. He leans just inside the door of the bathroom by the light switches. His brown eyes are molten black and I can see his erection straining his gray shorts from here.

“You just going to watch from there?” I ask him as I squirt shampoo into my hand. A sexy, smug grin tilts his lips apart. I watch as his hands come to the buttons on his navy shirt as he pushes off from the wall.

“I only came up here to check on you. But then you lifted your arms to run through your hair and your tits bounced in a way that wouldn’t let me leave.” He says while he steps out of his pants and boxer briefs.

“If you weren’t so sexy, that might be a little creepy.” 

“There’s nothing creepy about my eyes on you.” Nico says as he steps into the shower with me. His hands come to my waist and he pulls my wet body to his. I’m slippery from the dripping trails of my shampoo. His hands glide across my sides, then up to soap up my breasts. His fingers thumb at my glistening nipples and a breathy gasp drops from my mouth when he twists.

Nico walks me back carefully so I’m back in the shower stream. His fingers come to my hair so he can massage the soap out of it. The act is intimate- a pleasurable and practical motion that has my pussy throbbing for him. I can feel his erection bouncing against my stomach with each one of his movements. It’s a teasing gesture that builds the passion between us. I reach my hand out to give him a firm squeeze at the base. He’s rock hard and his skin barely gives to my grip.

“Usually, I’m not a shower sex kind of girl.” I murmur. He knows this and we both agree that it messes with natural lubrication, but right now, the ache is so great between us, that it shouldn’t be an issue. “But that looks painful, so I’ll make an exception.” I turn, placing my palms flat against the shower wall. I extend my arms fully, walking Nico back so that I’m out of the shower stream and my hips press eagerly outwards, begging for him to fill me. He sighs happily, bringing his middle finger to my opening, testing me. What he finds there is warm and  thick readiness.

“On your toes.” He requests and I do so. Now, I’m at the perfect height for him to plunge into me. He refused to wait longer, thrusting inside of me in one steady push. My head immediately curls back between my shoulder blades. My mouth opens for a moment before I grit my teeth at how damn good he feels inside of me.

“I’m going to need your help to stay up.” I wheeze out as he starts to move. The pleasure is so intense right off the bat that my muscles keep melting into mush, making it hard to stay on my toes like he asked. His hands come to my hips and his grip is tight as he keeps me in place. I’m quivering already. I hear Nico laugh from behind me when he feels my muscles shaking. “Shut up.” I snap, causing him to snicker louder as I reach back and slap his forearm. I dig my nails in pointedly, “If you can laugh, you can fuck me harder.” 

“Baby!” He chokes out in surprise then lets out a groan. “Keep that up.”

His hips move faster. I press back hard against him so my face doesn’t go too far into the water. Nico took my challenge to heart. His thrusts are deep and my inner walls are clenching at him with each movement, begging him to stay inside of me. I tighten around him and he releases a deep, desperate moan. I can feel his abdomen tightening and I know we are ending this round together. I reach back to hold onto his hip, keeping us smashed together with each thrust. I pull my upper body a little further up and that creates the perfect angle for us both. I can feel my orgasm pulsing deep within me, pounding at my walls to be released. Nico removes his right hand from my hip and dances his fingers along my wet clit. 

“Yes!” I scream as I come crashing down. I dig my fingers into his hip and my entire body convulses. My muscles tug at him inside of me. Nico releases into me with the same fierceness, an extended moan falling from his plumped lips. When the last wave has rippled out of me, I dip my head forward into the shower stream, sucking in quick breaths to try and settle myself. My legs are shaking. My calves are screaming at me to get off my toes, but I can’t until Nico slips from me. “Babe, out. My legs… are cramping.”

“Sorry.” He murmurs, wrapping an arm around my stomach and pulling from me. His arm stays as I go back down onto flat feet. I lean back into his solid chest, the water from my hair dripping all over us. His other arm wraps around me to hold me tight, massaging my heavy breast. I run my fingers up the outsides of his arms and grip his large biceps to hang onto him. “I’m so glad I came up here.” He chuckles against the top of my head.

“Me too. My headache is gone.” I note. The afterglow has assaulted us in the shower and we are both lazily rubbing our fingers against each other’s wet skin. “Do they think you’re coming back?”

“I don’t know. And I really don’t care. I’m not leaving this room now.” I nod in understanding. “Did something happen down there?” He wonders. “You seemed fine and then you weren’t.”

“No.. I was just overwhelmed by meeting so many people.” I say to him, watching as flecks of water patter our reflection on the glass shower door. “Ended up getting a bad headache.”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize it was going to be a family reunion.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I would have prepared you for it if I knew.”

“It’s okay. This helped.” I grin, tilting my head back to look up at him. His lips find my temple and we stay like that for a moment, eyes closed in contentment. “Wanna wash my body?” I ask him, feeling that he has softened completely against my butt cheeks.

“You know where that is going to lead.”

“Yeah, kinda why I asked.” I turn to face him, tossing my arms around his neck. I bring his face down to mine, walking us back into the shower stream. The trails of water fly down our faces, melding in our mouths with each lap of our tongues against each other. Nico’s hands slide down to my ass, gripping tightly and smashing me to his chest. 

“You taste so fucking good. Wonder how you taste here.” He slides down my body, settling on his knees in the wet shower and shoving his tongue between my legs. My head knocks back, being sprayed by the warm shower head. My leg hooks over his shoulder and I settle my hand on top of his head for balance.

“Oh my god.” I moan to our hotel room.

Of all the Hischiers downstairs right now, I’m glad this one is mine.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier smut #nico hischier fic #hockey writing #my writing #nhl fan fiction #new jersey devils #writing request

[krash-and-co]

haven't done this in a while, so here !! l&co as stuff I've heard/said in the past few months, bc I don't remember exact exchanges before then 👍👍

arguably more unhinged for reasons unknown. fate of Gods favorite clown idk

Lucy: I thought Billie Joe Armstrong went to the moon for a long time, honestly.

~

Lucy: [calling Barnes] there's a stranger at our house. she tried really hard to get in, and--

Lockwood, in the distance: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

Lucy: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

~

Holly: Lockwood, you have the coolest style.

Lockwood: thanks!

Lucy: what?!? she just tells me I look gay.

Lucy: and homeless.

~

holly: I want to help disabled kids ride a tricycle. wait, I meant to say horses.

lockwood: you want to help disabled horses ride a tricycle??????

~

Lucy: I don't have mommy issues I just don't like my mom.

~

Lucy: you gave me a framed photo for my birthday

Lucy: and within thirty minutes you stepped on it.

Lockwood: but then I bought you a new frame!!!

Lucy: and then I opened it, and it looked like you stepped on it.

Lockwood: well I'm not buying you another one.

~

skull: ugh, theyre so obsessed with how they look.

lucy, nodding: yeah, they're all "oh I'm so perfect!" preps. they definitely shave their legs.

~

Lockwood: I need to work on my swearing problem, cuz there are adults around and they don't li-- *drops thermos* ow FUCK

~

Lockwood: shut the windows. shut the fucking windows, I feel like we're being watched.

Lucy: hahaha, this is fucking terrifying.

Lockwood: here are the knives.

Holly: do you have any baseball bats? I don't want to stab people.

George: no, but we have crutches. we can hit people with them.

Holly, nodding: that's good.

~

Lockwood: I'm stupid.

Kipps: no you're not- yes you are. I don't know why I said you're not, so I had to correct myself.

~

holly: if we kill someone, we'll get in.... trouble.

~

George: shit!! I mean fuck!!! I mean crap!!!

Lucy, hitting him repeatedly: stop CURSING YOU FUCKING-- DANG IT!!!!!

~

Holly: do you ever get the urge to be randomly violent, like-

[loud clatter as lockwood and kipps beat each other up in the background]

holly: yeah like that.

~

Kipps, on searching for Bobby: I used to just grab any kid I saw about his height with brown hair, but that caused problems.

~

Lucy: what's your biggest fear?

Lockwood: what? spiders.

Lucy: no the other one

Lockwood: change.

Lucy: no the-- the other one.

George: what do you WANT FROM HIM-

~

lucy: you're going to make me have a gambling addiction.

skull, nodding: that's the idea.

~

George: pff my mom says im special.

Lockwood: im also special! they put me in classes about it.

[Lockwood and George burst out laughing while everyone else stares]

~

[Lucy and George are punching each other, screaming, and spewing out profanity in sign language]

George: literally nobody even looked up

Lucy: we're at the point where it's normal

George: yeah, haha!

Lucy: haha!

[a moment of heavy breathing and grinning before they begin fucking attacking each other again]

~

George, to Lucy: ugh im so sore. why do you keep punching me.

[Lucy punches him]

~

ok last one but this was a hell of a fucking convo and it was so funny everyone just jumped in with random twists 😭😭

[kipps crew, l&co, and flo are all sitting in barnes otherwise empty office]

George: kipps sounds terminally online, but I can't figure out yet if it's the normal kind or if he has. like. a kin list.

Lucy: the two extremes. normal or homestuck.

George: I read all of homestuck but it's okay I'm normal now

skull: im-

lucy: skull YOU'RE terminally online, but like the video gamer kind. kipps sounds like he had a my hero academia phase.

Lockwood: I was friends with someone who would roleplay mha all the time.

George: like pretend to have powers or something?

Lockwood: no, like pretend to be the characters. interact as them.

bobby: I don't roleplay, but I like to imagine I'm a different person with powers sometimes :)

ned: ha, furry.

flo: furry? one of my friends knows a furry who got her tail stolen, and she's in the office right now.

Lockwood: like today??

flo: yeah today. she's there right now.

Lockwood: [silence] oh.

flo: yeah they just. yoink.

[silence]

bobby: .....im not a furry but--

Lucy: aaaand gonna stop you right there before you make things worse for yourself

kat: why can't we EVER have normal conversations

#pov the most insane person you know has friends and theyre just as bad #bonus points if you can guess who was me bc a lot of these things i said some of lol #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #holly munro #quill kipps #george cubbins #george karim #bobby vernon #ned shaw #kat godwin #flo bones #montagu barnes #lockwood & co #incorrect quotes #sort of lol

[snarkylinda]

I’m very glad you’re talking about spencer being parentified because it feels like people sometimes gloss over it a bit? or maybe I’m just looking in the wrong places. if this isn’t something you do in you’re blog feel free to just. not respond but do you have any more thoughts or. idk headcanons on how that might have affected him as an adult?

Hi anon! To be honest I have no idea what is essentially discussed alot on the fandom other that a tiny fraction of it I expose myself to because 1#I am too tired and old to deal with fandom discourse about my blorbo, and based on my previous experience with fandoms I KNOW that the most popular the character, the bigger the discourse so haha no- 2# I joined in late lmao literally a couple of months ago, so I am super out of the loop just screaming to the void in desperate needs for someone to scream back 🤲🏼 do this kind of asks actually made me so happy agahagaha 🥰🥰 Buckle up bois this is LONG-

Ok now to those that might come across this and ask themselves what the hell does being parentified means, it's a broad term used for the phenomenon of (at best) a child sharing parental responsibilities due to x circumstance, or (at worst) downright having the parent/child dynamic completely swapped, with the child being the caretaker for the parent and household. You don't have to know deep CM lore knowledge to realize the latter is Spencer Reid to a T. Hell, they aren't even subtle about it lmao:

Btw parentification is often mixed in with abandonment and while they share the "child being forced to grown up" too quickly, the former is often distinguished by the fact that, more often that not as is this case, the parent still cares for them but are unable to do so how it should be (tho there are several cases where parentefication is an part of willing neglect, sadly) and added to the fact that they have to look after themselves- they have to look after another.

This is a really complicated, broad topic and I just mentioned this to go full disclaimer and that I don't blame Diana at all for how messed her son ended up since she can't help it- and to make a joke about how Spencer was abandoned and parentified. Also harassed. Guys he wasn't even 18-

Anyways but back to your question, how do I think that affected Spencer growing up....well in everything basically lmao

But I will take on two instances that had stood up to me the most: emotional management and hiding secrets.

The second one is easier: you would catch this man dead before he vents to you over something other than his shitty dad (that I find very funny tbh) and when he does is because he is at his limit and about to fucking cry.

Now don't get me wrong: we all are entiltde to our privacy. These are grown ass adults and they have lives outside of their working circle....

Right?

Haha we have an problem-

So yeah, Spencer kind of actually needs to rely on his co-workers because he has literally nobody else to rely on-

And yet

Oh here is the thing- Spencer is one polite boi but he is also blunt, if he doesn't want someone on his business he says so (look back when Alex discovered him and Maeve) this is literally "I wanted to tell you but I feel like I shouldn't"- this is not season 1 mind you, this is season 11, and yet here he was one of his oldest friends literally grabbing him by the arm and having to tell him it's never a bother- I am the only one fucking crying at this?

Excuses seems to come to Spencer like it's second nature- "sorry a tube on my apparment broke" "Oh I....I tripped!" "There was a lot of traffic so..." "I was watching an movie" and I am not am expert on USA's history or some shit, but Child Protection Services had been a thing since at least the 60s, so I don't think that a 10yo living alone with his mentally ill mother would have flown well- you get the idea.

I think this scene summarizes the whole thing perfectly

Get it? it's irony. (I love how Spencer is about to say something like dismissive "thank you" but because this shit hit too close to home to comfort he just gave a polite smile and walked away. That silence was LOUD) Because Spencer had always had done the former but the latter er.... :D

And it's not only when it concern Diane btw, any problem whatsoever Spencer would rather lock himself up (literally lmao) that sit down and talk about it- it's only when his bs is exposed and he can't refutage (like that little scene after Gideon's death when Rossi asks him if he had been there all night- he points out the fact he is wearing the same cardigan as the day before) that he opens up....or he runs away, which leads me to the second big point that I think shows how much Parentification fucked him up:

Spencer has the emotional maturity of a teenager.

I talk about this literally all the time so I'll be shorter lmao basically Spencer... has an issue- ok he has lot of issues- and that is the way he dislikes direct confrontation, so whenever he is hurt or angry he would rather be dismissive and passive-agressive that talk it out with the person- even going as far as turning away and storming out of the room.

(Here is the part where I put the screencaps but him storming off would be out of focus so lmao er.... Elephant Memory, Memoriam, Proof, a little part in 15x2 and The Gathering)

Now... I do think that a grown-ass man doing this shit is hilarious, like I love Spencer's bratty side so much lmao but it's an clear sign of someone that never learned how to deal with his emotions on a healthy way, someone that 6 out of 7 days of the week had to interiorize everything in and because of that holds on so much....resement, so much repressed anger but also without an stable force on his life to help him manage that- so we are left with an teenager trapped in an adult's body, loss at how to handle shit like he always did.

....And want to know the worst part about an Parentified boy onto adulthood?

That they don't know better.

#criminal minds #spencer reid

[anti-endo-haven]

vent

hey okay so. one of my friends just made me really fucking mad actually

i was talking about guns (because another friend was designing one for an oc) and i offhandedly said "my dad was a cop and is also a veteran! i'm not bragging about that. i'm just glad he taught me the things i know now" because you know i really do like guns and i like shooting ranges and i like knowing about weapons and stuff man because it's just cool. i think it's cool.

and this friend that pissed me off, goes "oh it's cringe that your dad was those things but it's cool he taught you about guns"

and i. okay. look. if anyone has a problem with the choices my dad made in his past, it's me. trust me i'm queer and trans of course i have fucking issues with it. but he's my dad. i can also understand that the life he was subjected to ultimately led to making those poor decisions. he used to be like me. he used to be radicalized because he had experienced police brutality firsthand. he was abused, at home, at school, in public by unhinged strangers, criminals, and police alike. he was a failure to his family and he genuinely felt like his only option was to sell away his youth to the fucking military. he was in operation desert storm and he NEVER came home the same. all because he desperately wanted to make people proud of him for something he wasn't instead of them just accepting him for who he was, and that was WRONG both on his end and theirs.

i'm not gonna sit here and talk about my dad's trauma like it's mine but i'm also not gonna say there weren't a lot of factors that made him make those decisions that he genuinely thought were right especially because mental health resources were and still ARE very stigmatized.

but it just pissed me off. that's my dad. i love him very much and i can criticize his choices because i know what happened to him to make him that way. i know that if things were different he'd be in a much better place and god i wish that were the case because he's my fucking dad

idk. it really REALLY made me angry. there's nuance here somewhere, i don't have the words. i will never defend my dad's actions full stop i'm really embarrassed that he was a cop at all. i don't even like talking about it unless necessary. because people will always act like i'm defending the things he did or defending cops or defending the military if i say "hey don't fucking talk about my dad that way ever again please". do you support billionaires just because your mom works at walmart??? jesus fucking christ.

i don't have to hate my dad to hate the things he did

Okay, so. That’s your dad first and foremost. Full stop. That’s all it takes and that’s all that matters.

The job he has/had does not matter right now. Your family was criticized and that can hit hard.

And, honestly, it’s better to learn from someone that has training with guns to tell you everything you need to know and to keep you safe. That’s not a bad thing.

I’m sorry that your father had to go through what he did, but just because of those choices, it doesn’t make him any more or less human, it doesn’t make him any less good. He’s human. We all make choices we can regret later on or will look back on and say “why did I do this?” even if it was something that wasn’t really a choice.

That’s still your father and it’s perfectly okay to defend him because that’s family.

That friend sounds extremely rude and I hope things can get worked out.

If anyone wants to harass anon because of their father’s working areas, I’m deleting those comments and any reblogs saying anything negative is going to be me blocking your account. Look past the job and look at the man underneath who is teaching his kid gun safety with this post. Nothing else.

#anti endo #did system #system #osddid #endos dni #traumagenic system #actually did #endos not for you #actually traumagenic #did plural #did plurality #osdd plural #osdd plurality #tw gun #tw gun mention #tw gun use #anti-endo-haven-vent #anti-endo-haven-vents

[slasher-male-wife]

hear me out. I was just thinking about this because i’m crazy. The grabber x reader who has arachnophobia. They kidnap them and the reader stumbles across a 🕷 and start crying. If you can make it angsty then fluff I will sell you my dog.

I know I know, another post about the grabber and his stupid hot self I know. But I give the people what they want. You can keep your dog btw I don’t need another one lmao. I’m not too scared of spiders. If it’s like poisonus giant like a trantula or there is a ton of them I will kinda freak out but if it’s a small spider in the corner of my room, I trap it under a glass and set it back outside. I don’t know what you really mean by like angst so I kinda went with him playing into your fear a bit I guess. Idk my brain is a puddle of thoughts about hot fictional men and 70′s rocker fashion. Reader is gn.

Warnings: Spiders, fearful reader, angst?, strong language, stockholm syndrome

You’ve always had a problem with spiders. Since you were a kid you’ve been afraid of them. Maybe it was because your older cousins let you watch horror movies about killer spiders or all of the times in class you had to hear about venomous spiders in the desert or the jungle. You could never handle them. From the times at summer camp when you would freak out over a spider in the shower or refusing to go into the attic because of the cobwebs you could never stand them, you always feared them. 

You forgot about this fear while you’ve been in the basement of The Grabbers house. You had a new fear. But that too seemed to fade away too as you grew closer to the man who keeps you here. You’re going about the day as you usually do, walking around waiting for him to come back down and cure your boredom. You’re pacing back and forth about the room tossing one of your shoes up in the air and catching it again. You really need to ask for something else. You turn back around and face the wall when you find a rather large spider. About the size of your thumb. Because of how close your face is the the spider you scream and quickly fumble back. You hold your shoe tight in your hand. You know you’ll be even more unnerved in this place if you just let it stay here. The thought of it slowly crawling around waiting to bite you. Or worse, lay eggs inside of you like all those movies show. You slowly walk back over to the wall and to the spider. You take a deep breath and go to whack it when it jumps up on the end of your shoe. 

You throw it across the room and it hits the wall. You shake off your hand that held the shoe and shiver. You’re near the mattress and your shoe is sitting by the door. Without your shoe you’re standing uneven and even though you’re wearing a sock you still get a chill on the soul of your foot. You groan and put your head in your hands and move them to run over your hair. You hear the sound of the door unlocking and see The grabber at the other end. Wearing the bottom half of his mask. He can clearly see you’re upset. “Whats wrong little dove?” He asks walking in closer to you, shutting the door behind him. 

“There was a spider and I tried to kill it with my shoe and it crawled onto it and I’m really freaked the fuck out and I just can’t go check on it.” You get really worked up over this, a lump forming in your throat. He walks over to your shoe and picks it up. He extends his hand and lets the spider crawl onto it. When he starts walking back towards you, you move away from him. “Don’t bring it near me?” You say. 

“Oh come on it’s harmless to you. It just needs your body so it can lay its eggs in you.” He jests. You shake your head as tears begin to form as you move into the mattress while he stands at the edge with the spider in hand. 

“Don’t say that. Just kill it please.” You beg back against the wall. 

“It’s too late, it’s already laid its eggs in your shoe, I can’t kill it now, it’s a mother, it has to raise it’s hundreds of babies. They’ll all swarm to the warmest thing down here. Being you Y/N.” Tears start to fall and you cover your ears. 

“That’s not true and you know that! Stop scaring me already and just kill the damn thing!” The tears blur your vision and you slide you back down the wall and end up sitting on the mattress. You start to sob as you shut your eyes. You move your hands from your ears to your face. You hear him swipe his skin and a quiet crunch. You still don’t open your eyes. You sit there muffling your sobs. You hear his shoes clack against the concrete floor and soon he’s sitting next to you. He feels guilty for scaring you that bad. He puts an arm around you and holds you there as you continue to cry. 

“There’s nothing to be worried about anymore. I killed it. You’re gonna be fine.” His words are soft. He means what he says. 

#the black phone #the grabber #the grabber x reader #the grabber x you #slasher #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

[spaceorphan18]

how come other characters are fair game but not kurt and blaine? it's okay for you to bash santana and call her terrible but not okay for kevin and jenna to not worship klaine?

Oh good lord - seriously?

I am just too old and too tired for this kind of shit. I feel like I’m constantly running my head against the wall.

1. If you’re here because you’re upset by other Nonnys or the people replying to my post(s) - directing this at me only is only going to piss me off and not really do anything to help your cause.

2. I believe I’ve said now maybe 8,472 times that Kevin and Jenna are always welcome to their own opinions and it’s completely fine if they don’t like Klaine. It’s their podcast they can do what they like.

I’m really not the one having any problems here.

3. No one likes seeing their favorite character shit on. Not me. Not you. Not that rando in the Supernatural fandom. There’s a reason why people should curate their own fandom experiences and be respectful when in mixed company. I don’t know why this is so hard.

4. If the Santana comment was specifically directed at me… I don’t know even what to say. I have a lot of thoughts about Santana - both good and bad. I would be happy to discuss that if anyone is ever interested- but it won’t be a black and white conversation.

5. I’m pretty sure I’ve been critical of Kurt and Blaine too - because fictional characters shouldn’t be perfect and it’s okay to have complicated feelings about things.

6. School of hard knocks time. This is the type of stan culture that drives me nuts. Either you’re here because someone said something mean about your fav and it rubs you the wrong way or you just want to feel like you’re allowed to be mean about someone else’s fav. I really do not care which it is. I really don’t.

My point is you’re here not because you want to have a convo but because you’re mad at a thing on the internet. And you’re not being any better than those you’re pointing fingers at.

So I’m going to say this not just to you but to all of you - Santana stans, Blaine stans, Glee stans, Supernatural stans, those weird Draco/Hermoine stans that have been hanging out in the corner since 2002 — Stop it. Just fucking stop it already.

Kevin and Jenna do not have it out for anyone. They’re humans with much different experiences. And they’re allowed to be that. That said - all of you disappointed that the podcast isn’t what you want it to be? That’s fine and those feelings are valid but stop listening — there is no conspiracy. And you Nonny - need to take your anger and find something more constructive to do with it.

I suggest taking up sewing.

For the love of god - play nice, be respectful, and if anyone would like to have a real conversation about Santana or Klaine or Glee or idk whatever - my in box is always open. But if you’re just here to argue than you really need to pick another target.

Have a lovely night.

[ceilingfan5]

[id: a simple drawing of a sun wearing sunglasses and smiling]

HEY idk about you but the weather has been shitty here and i have been aching for sunshine so i have manufactured some with my bare hands

here is nearly 4,000 words of taakitz ridiculousness, while i take a break from my cruise fic, which was initially supposed to be a break from a different fic--it's fine. you get to eat these delicious words don't WORRY about it.

go read As Luck Would Have It (rated T) if this sounds like it will warm your bones and make you smile:

Kravitz gets invited to a weird party and then the only person he knows there disappears, so he ends up having to get friendly with the host. But that's a good thing.

or read it below but again it is 3.7k: (minor warning for brief mentions of alcohol)

“So, got your goth speedo ready?” Sloane needles, throwing her arm around Kravitz. He nearly gets knocked over and the guy behind them in the coffee line looks a little annoyed that she’s butted in, but not enough to be unpolite about it yet. 

“My fucking what now?” Kravitz half-drags her forward as the next shmuck in line gets a frothy caffeine milkshake. 

“I thought I told you that we’re goin’ to a beach party tonight. What’s the problem? I know you don’t work tomorrow. I have your gcal and everything. No escape.”

“Well,” Kravitz says, fishing for an excuse and coming up fishless. “It’s, listen, I know it’s April, but it’s supposed to snow tonight. The weather is garbage, and you want to have a beach party?”

“Uh, for one thing, it’s not my beach party, it’s Tres Horny Boys’ beach party-”

“What.”

“And for another-” they move up in line again, Sloane making it no easier on him. He’d have more to complain about if it wasn’t really nice, having someone lean on him after a long day at work. “It’s inside, so you have no excuse.” 

“What am I supposed to do, come in a bathrobe?” 

“Whatever floats your goat. Either way I said you’d be coming, so whatever your evening plans were-”

“Watching youtube until I pass out, I think?” They’re almost to the counter. Soon he will be buzzing enough to handle this.

“Cancel them! You’ve got places to be!” 

“Hey, Sloane? Not to sound like Winnie the Pooh-”

“Great start, continue.”

“But- oh bother .”

“That’s the spirit!”

Kravitz does not know how to dress for a beach party in the warmest, buttered-toastiest weather, so dressing for a beach party in the literally-beginning-to-snow ass weather was vexing beyond measure. Much laying on the floor about it had to happen. But god as his witness, he is going to follow the fucking rules, and he ends up in long black shorts, a casual black short sleeved shirt over a band t-shirt, and a scarf and gloves. He goes back and forth on the hat. It ends up jammed in his pocket on the way to the front door of the Tres Horny Household. 

He wishes he had come with Sloane. He’s afraid he won’t know anyone here. He’s been spiraling about parties and their insurmountable social nature for the last several hours since their coffee moment, but now new and fresh terrors assault his imagination. What if he took the dress code wrong? What if he has nothing in common with the guests? What if Sloane wasn’t allowed a plus one? What if-

The door opens. Music spills out, jaunty and warm and unseasonable. The guy standing in the heavenly rectangle of light, illuminated like some kind of angel royalty, puts his hands on his hips and squints at Kravitz.

He is absolutely wearing swim trunks and not much else. There are novelty sunglasses propped on his head that look like sunshines, and the sunshines are also wearing sunglasses. Kravitz is incredibly aware of the snow. It is in his hair and everything. Blowing about like dollars in a horrible game show or something. Will he win the grand prize (out-of-season frostbite)? 

“Hello,” Kravitz tries, great start, classic, tried and true, familiar, 4.8 stars, 14,956 reviews. “I’m- Sloane invited me, I- hello-”

“Hello,” surfing angel replies, looking incredibly amused at his squirming. “I was gonna let you ring the doorbell or something, but you were just standing there.”

“Guilty as charged,” comes out of Kravitz’s mouth, unbidden. 

“Well, come into the beach, dork,” he says, biting back a grin. “I’m Taako. This is my party.”

Kravitz mumbles a thank you and moves into the very warm house, looking around and finding all sorts of brightly colored wildness. There are leis on nearly every surface, blow-up palm trees, surely at least fifteen beach balls at first glance, a photo background that looks like a shark’s open mouth, a literal kiddie pool filled with sand– real sand. What are they going to do with it when they’re done? How hard is it going to be to clean up?? Why did they think that was a good idea indoors? Why are three different people collaborating on an elaborate sand castle already?? 

“Food’s in the kitchen, you know the party rules, yeah? Key bowl’s over there if you’re planning on needing it.” Taako stretches and pops his back, and Kravitz glances away, cheeks warming. His soft middle is so touchable, is the thing. And this is a complete stranger he needs to demonstrate his good skills at being a regular person to. 

So that he can get invited to the next bonkers party?? What’s the goal here? What’s the rubric?? 

“You good, cowboy?” Taako asks, slipping his hands into his board short pockets and making them slide down just a little bit more. He’s so pretty. His long hair is tied up, but what if it wasn’t? His eyes are glittering with the kind of mischief a person would need oodles of to plan such a ridiculous shindig, and Kravitz is distracted. 

“Yuh-huh,” he says. Kravitz tugs at his short sleeve, feeling exposed. Some of his non-face skin is showing. He’s practically nude, here. “Have you seen Sloane?”

“Last I saw her,” Taako whistles softly. “She was filling water balloons to cause problems and kissing her girlfriend, so I assume she is either still doin’ that, or isn’t.”

“Thank you.” Very helpful. Super duper productive line of clues here. 

“For sure.” Taako points out the shoe rack and nods his head as a song he must really like comes on. “Come try my food when you’ve found her. Hopefully you actually have a palate and won’t just shove shit in your mouth ‘cause it’s there like these chucklefucks. You look like a guy that chews his food.” He winks, and even though that’s an insane thing to say to someone you’ve just met, Kravitz is oddly pleased. 

“Definitely. I will definitely chew your food.” 

Taako giggles and covers his mouth, like the odd sound that came out of it could have been anything but supremely enchanting. 

“I gotta go- be somewhere else,” he says, with serious confidence, and so Kravitz accepts it at face value and nods as Taako about-faces and skedaddles.

Kravitz debates leaving his gloves with his shoes. His hands are gold, but he doesn’t want to be a total goober. And should he? Or shouldn’t he? 

It’s easy to get tangled up headphones style, but he crawls out of this pocket and leaves both behind.

Keeps the fuckin’ scarf on though. It’s cold. His knees are cold, even. Not that a scarf can fix that. But if he warms some of his blood, it can travel around and share that warmth with the rest of his body juice? Right? Probably? 

Either way, he heads for a bathroom or something to find Sloane. Or not find her. But he’s going to start somewhere with a sink. If he gets hit by a water balloon later he will yell. Definitely. She’d better know that. The hallway is a little less loud, although he does accidentally kick into a beach ball on the floor. The light is off, and he breathes a little.

Nobody is in the bathroom, which will probably not stay the same for much longer, but right now that’s just a problem, because where is the only person at this entire party that he knows, actually?

He nearly bumps into something as he goes back into the hallway, and it turns out to be, not a coat rack, or a decorative table, or like, something a regular person would have in a regular house, but instead, yes really, a capsule machine. 

Kravitz squints at it (once he has determined it is not at risk of tumbling and shattering on the carpet, where he will definitely step on the treacherous bits). He looks both towards the living room (lively, loud, beachy) and presumably the bedrooms (relatively quiet, only one door slightly open) and then again at the actual capsule machine. It looks a lot like a shiny red gumball machine, just rectangular and filled with little plastic acorns full of mysteries. 

It’s incredibly tempting, is the thing. Kravitz has a few emergency quarters in his pocket. You know, just in case. And obviously it is here for a reason, right? If it doesn’t accept his quarters, then it will be fine, and he will put them back in his pocket and go find Sloane. Yep. Probably not haunted.

Tentatively, he inserts two coins and turns the mechanism, and something clicks and churns out a little plastic container. Kravitz takes it out and holds it up to the light from the living room, and not quite sure what’s inside, pops it open. 

It’s a squishy glittery rubber duck. It is perfect, down to the eyes that have seen the Horrors (™). Kravitz laughs delightedly and quacks softly to himself. 

Okay, well, if that’s what’s going on here, he has two more quarters. 

His duck needs some friends, obviously. 

He takes his last two coins out, pops them in the thing, excitedly turns the knob, and another capsule drops. He removes it, and it rattles strangely. Is it full of…skittles? Almonds? 

He pops it open and it smells like fish. And he kind of gags about it. This is not a skittle treat. This is not a skittle treat at all. If he is not mistaken, those are fucking cat treats. In the capsule machine. In some guy’s house. 

“What the actual fuck,” he says softly, and, not expecting a reply, is startled when he hears a gravelly meow from the open bedroom door. 

The skrunkliest cat he has ever seen appears, haunted lamp-eyes first, white tail flicking behind it. It is also wearing a flower lei and appears to give not a single rat’s bananas about it. It meows again and Kravitz nearly drops the capsule. He kind of feels like he’s summoned some sort of Beast. 

“Hey there,” he says, squatting down to see the critter. “Did you come to party?” 

The cat paws at him and yowls, seemingly knowing exactly what the fuck is going on, and befuddled but pleased, Kravitz gives the cat the treats. 

He’s kind of glad he was invited to this party full of insane people. Truly the guys who live here can’t be regular. Right? Like, something has to be a little wrong with them. There’s some texture in this salad. Crunchy. 

The cat rubs against him and purrs, sounding like some kind of motor boat chewing aquarium gravel, and he’s fucking enchanted. He puts the capsules in his pocket, and after loving on the cat for an extended period of time, he decides he definitely needs more quarters. Like, if that’s what’s in there, either way it’s good, right? He tries to peer in the transparent sides of the machine, but it’s kind of difficult to tell what other curiosities await inside. He’s so fucking tempted. What if it took paypal is the thing? Or credit? 

No, that’s dangerous. Like one more dollar would be fine, and then he can socialize. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, and the cat chirrs at him with a knowing look in its glittery eyes. Kind of like Taako’s. 

He braves the party again, which in less than twenty minutes has gotten even weirder. The cat, wiser than he, did not follow. Kravitz politely pushes through to the kitchen, where he can still hear people sing-hollering Boat Drinks at the top of their lungs. The only person in there is Taako, who is sitting on the counter and looking kind of put out, but perks up like an animated sunflower when Kravitz walks in the doorway. 

“Hey hey,” he says, kicking his legs and nearly thumping the opposite cabinet. “Wondered where you were. Sloane went to pick up some pizzas. They were all like, weh weh, our driver got abducted by aliens or whatever so if you want your pineapple shenanigans you gotta come down to main office, so she was like, I volunteer as tribute, and I was like we have perfectly good horse divorce right here, but okay I guess, and anyway hello again, hi.” 

“Hi,” Kravitz says, smiling at Taako. He’s kind of picking up on what he’s putting down now, actually. He hasn’t met the other two Boys, but he wants to assume that the capsule machine was his idea. “I met your cat.” 

“Yeah?” Taako blooms about it. “That’s my sweet boy who has every disease. His name is Garyl, and he is a menace to society. He is on house arrest until they find the Picassos.”

“Picassos, huh? I figured him for a Monet kind of guy.” 

“Picassos are easier to forge,” Taako says with an impish shrug. “What’s up? Come to sample my wares?” He does a sweeping gesture at the half-demolished spread of appetizers and desserts. 

“Definitely!” Kravitz is feeling more like a person again. This, he can do. Solve mysteries, pet cats, eat little pigs in a blanket? Absolutely. Dance to music that rattles his bones until he feels like a skeleton getting played like a xylophone, no thank you. He gets a plate, paper, printed with cute little animal faces. It was probably meant to be a joke, but Kravitz finds it kind of charming. “What’s your favorite?”

“Well obviously, it’s all good, ‘cause cha’boi made ‘em, but uh, like, the desserts are lip-smackery, and the, yeah,” he waves at Kravitz, who is already loading up. “Yeah, some of those, and the little, yeah, those are spinach puffs, but if you’re like, augh, spinach? Spinach poisoned my crops and shaved my dog to look like a monk, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised, ‘cause they fuck verily.” 

Kravitz pops one in his mouth, and is wonderfully surprised.

“Verily indeed,” he says, mouth still kind of full. He picks through most of the rest of it, and comes to lean on the cabinet sort of by Taako so they can, he doesn’t know, chat, or something? He’s trying. He’s trying so hard.

At least Taako looks thrilled about his food interest. 

“Knew you could chew,” he says. 

“Lots of experience,” Kravitz says. “Been on my resume for years.”

That makes Taako giggle-snort, and Kravitz counts it as a win. 

“So, what do you do?” 

“Me?” Kravitz sweats. “I mean, me? What I do?”

“For sure that is what I meant, yeah?” Taako raises his eyebrows. “I mean, you want me to go first? I work at a bakery. So like, if you see your boy fall asleep mid-sentence, be regular about it, yeah?”

“Noted,” Kravitz says, affectionately. “I do not work at a bakery. I work at Sniffem’s, and also the funeral home.”

“Sniffem’s??” Taako cackles. “You’re a candle merchant?” 

“Candle stacker,” Kravitz corrects. “My candle hawking was not aggressive enough, and I got demoted to the back of the store.”

“Couldn’t up-smell, huh?” Taako says, barely containing his laughter enough to finish the sentence, and Kravitz snickers. 

“Little more interesting, than uh, than Neverwinter Rest and Crematory, so uh, I tend to lead with that one-”

“I mean,” Taako covers another laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t joke, you might be, you might not think it’s funny.” 

“Listen,” Kravitz says. “You aren’t going to offend me, unless you’re trying to be mean, in which case I will cry. Like if you criticize my penmanship or something, I’ll dwell on it, but like, if you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say-”

“That’s the thing-” Taako’s voice is pitching up and he nearly looks like he’s going to explode. “I’m not quite there? There’s- listen- I’m not trying to be a dick- but there’s a burning joke in there and I just can’t quite crack that nut- ”

“Maybe,” Kravitz starts, mostly amused by it all. He’s heard all sorts of things about the funeral home, and he’s gotten over it a long time ago. He’s struggling to force that connection too when someone–handsome, weirdly long sideburns–pops his head in. “HEY!” he shouts, into the much quieter kitchen. “Can we get five more mulled strawberry daiquiris and a Long Island Hot Tea?” 

“Fuck off!” Taako says, cheeks pinkening, as Kravitz tries not to gag about the idea of hot beach drinks. Like, he gets the math there, but no, jail for a thousand years. “I’m talking to my friend-!”

“Thanks, Taako!!!” The guy, who could be, mm, maybe not a lumberjack, but like a model dressed up like a lumberjack who would hurt himself in the photoshoot by getting too enthusiastic about the ax? Ducks back into the party, as if Taako had responded positively. 

“Hey, what fucking is your name though, gorgeous?” Taako says, incredibly directly, piercing through Kravitz until he could be used as a colander in a pinch. 

Did he fucking forget, like, the basic bit? Like, the second thing? He got as far as hello and ate shit? He wants to evaporate. 

“Kravitz,” he says. “Did I not-”

“Nope,” Taako says, popping the p like a balloon in a sharp things factory. “But if there’s anything else you wanna do backwards, I’m open?”

“I do actually have a question,” Kravitz manages, despite the delayed hit of gorgeous flooding his bloodstream like a designer party drug of some nature. He’s not sure. He’s never really engaged with that sort of scene. 

Taako blinks at him, but congenially goes, “Shoot?”

“What- hey, what’s the deal with the capsule machine in the hallway?”

Taako regains that mischievous look tenfold. Funny business and hanky-panky, thy name is Taako Lastname. 

“That? Oh, that? That’s an investment, my man. I, so listen, there was a sale, right? And I figured- I mean, it’s a little joy in a popbubble whenever you’re feeling down, yeah? Marie Kondo, live your life, et cetera, but also like, good for parties, you know, we do lots of parties, maybe you can come to the next one? Gonna be casino themed.”

“Love that,” Kravitz says. “Poker.”

“Dressup,” Taako nods. “Like- like me and the guys, we’re, you know, just dudes, not like, heroes or whatever, but we’re joy-dealers, you know? Merchants of smiles, yeah? Does that sound insane?”

“Maybe, but I like it?” Kravitz smiles at him, and eats a little tart thing so he doesn’t have to say more. It’s–get this—so fucking good. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, well. Yeah. So, like, we do these weird parties, right? Like- when shit’s got you down, we can get you up, wink, and like,” he kicks his feet like he’s trying to slow down his thoughts so they don’t all tumble out of him. Kravitz is immensely charmed. “I mean, I just thought it was funny.”

“It really made me smile, Taako,” Kravitz says honestly, and Taako lights right back up. “And it’s sweet that you put something in there for your cat, too.” 

“Yeah?” Taako beams, vindicated. “Garyl loves that shit. Normally he’d fuck off entirely, but he must have heard you fuckin’ round and got excited. Good thing you got lucky.” 

“Right,” Kravitz’s cheeks burn. “I only had a dollar in quarters. I’m kind of surprised I even had quarters on me, but- you know, it was fun. You’re really- fun.”

Taako’s smile softens a little. He brushes hair back behind his ear and glances away. 

“Sure,” he says. 

“Is it weird I’m really tempted to do it again? Like, you wouldn’t have-”

“I one hundred percent have rolls on rolls of quarters specifically for this situation,” Taako says all in a rush. He hops down, and then tries to pretend to be chiller about this. “If, you want? I mean, you can go do sand karaoke-”

“I do not see myself doing sand karaoke right now,” Kravitz says, as politely as he can. Taako looks pleased, and snatches a ziplock bag full of coins off the microwave. “How much do you wanna spend?” And he heads back through the party to the hall, Kravitz plodding baby-duck like behind. 

He ignores the wild overstimulation of the party. He focuses on Taako’s long braid, and the jaunty way it swings, and the soft slope of his back, a star-field of freckles exposed by his silly beach party outfit, when, again, it is one hundred percent snowing out there. 

Affection warms him from the inside out. He may as well be glowing. Aw, fuck, is he getting a crush? Oh no. Oh lord. Oh bother. 

“Hey Garyl,” Taako announces to the empty doorway, as he stops in front of the capsule machine. A person waiting for the bathroom glances at them, and then looks back at their phone. 

“I can give you some bills-” Kravitz tries, but Taako waves him off and hands him the bag. 

“Later,” he says. “Let’s see what else you get. Try for a real prize, right? There’s all sorts of weird shit in there. I think I put a ring, you know, I put a little jerky snack, a whole bunch of these ugly little alien guys? And there’s the balloon animals, the glitter ducks,” he starts counting on his fingers. 

Kravitz takes out two quarters and pops them in. Taako delightedly watches him turn the crank and remove the purple-capped plastic gift. 

“What’dja get?”

Kravitz pops it open, unsure- and then nearly perishes on the spot. It is, there is no denying it, the familiar foil square of a condom. 

There’s a beat. And then Taako begins to die laughing, as Kravitz nearly melts into the resell-beige carpet. Taako laughs so hard he nearly chokes, and grabs onto Kravitz’s elbow for support. Kravitz, despite his mortification, can’t help it–Taako’s laughter is contagious, and he starts into it too, and nearly falls apart when Taako manages to get out– 

“The thing is-” he wheezes. “The thing is? I’m not- listen. The thing is? There’s only one of those in there-”

“Guess I got lucky,” Kravitz has to say. Taako actually falls to the floor laughing. 

And Kravitz? Well, maybe he’s going to have a good time after all. 

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #this is very silly #fan5fics

[ezrisdax-archive]

I completely forgot about "help desk support b'elanna dealing with ext 709 on the phone every day" so now you've gotta say more about this AU

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Harry asked B’Elanna as the phone rang again.

B’Elanna stared at the extension flashing on the screen.

709.

“No.” She said, half tempted to lift the phone up and drop it back on the receiver.

“B’Elanna.” Harry said in the tone that implied he wasn’t going to humor her usual antics today.

Tough luck to him because B’Elanna could out stubborn any one, any time.

The phone stopped ringing.

“There. It’s fine.” B’Elanna huffed.

And then the phone rang again.

“God dammit.” B’Elanna finally snatched the handset up. “What is it Seven?”

“You have taken considerably more time than usual to answer the phone. I take it to mean there must be a serious problem within the company that a call can be ignored so long.” Seven said without preamble.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “The only serious problem this company has is you.”

At the desk across from her Harry winced. She could have sworn she heard a muttered ‘here we go again’ from him but tuned it out.

~~

“My computer has ceased function.” Seven said when B’Elanna answered the phone again.

“Why can’t you just talk like a normal person and say it won’t turn on?” B’Elanna asked, sighing and trying to massage the incoming headache away already. “I’m surprised Seven, I thought you’d be able to fix a little computer issue.”

There was a pause over the line. “Janeway has informed me that it falls under your concern and as such I should allow you to do your job.”

“Allow me?!” B’Elanna sputtered. “Allow?!”

“However should you require the assistance I would provide it.”

“Oh how gracious of you.” B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “What would I ever do without you?”

“I theorize that you would be not be selling our software as well due to my continued cooperation with Borg.”

“Go back there already you drone.”

~~

it's funny I had to go back through our own conversation to find the roles I made for people but:

janeway: ceo chakotay: chief of operations tuvok: chief financial officer tom: salesman for the product they make b'elanna: tech support/product developer harry: tech support neelix: kitchen staff because they're fancy enough to have one idk emh: banker for the product kes: salesman seven: consultant for another product but janeway convinced her to join their team by poaching her

and no B'Elanna never learns Seven's name, just keeps calling her Seven like I have her do in every moden au.

I don't even know how I planned to end this one honestly that's where I mostly go stuck, I was just enjoying writing B'Elanna as tech support the way I was tech support, all the stupid calls I got included. And I had written Seven as doing her own tech support but fucking something up within the software because of it so Janeway makes her go through B'Elanna now. (people pls don't try to install your own software on work computers. it makes IT's life harder and believe me the auditing software will pick it up)

For a while the AU was just gonna have them be on the phone and keep missing each other in meetings due to something else happening so they don't meet face to face for a while and then???? yeah again I have no idea what I planned for this anymore.

#b7 #b'elanna torres #seven of nine #trek femslash #beej talks star trek #trillscienceofficer

[theteasetwrites]

Thy Saints Surrounded

Chapter 7: Mo Shíorghrá

❧ Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Female Reader ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, loss of virginity, missionary, swearing ❧ Word Count: 5.8k

❧ In This Chapter: Another night at the bar, except tonight is the night you make things... official with Murphy.

❧ A/N: You really thought I was gonna not use this gif for the first smutty chapter of this series? That would have been criminal. Anyway, here's some smut. Idk what else to say. It's smut. Murphy is cute/hot. You know the drill. Chapter title is pronounced muh-heer-grah, by the way.

Friday nights at McGinty’s were busy, you had found after only a few weeks of waiting tables there. Not as busy as St. Patrick’s Day, Doc had assured you, but busy enough to have you on your feet at all hours of the night shift.

What’s more, you still were somewhat lost when it came to the subject of alcohol. New customers would come in and ask about some type of beer you’d never heard of before, and in your inexperience, you’d have to say something along the lines of: “Well, I know we have Guinness.”

At least most regulars did, indeed, order a pint of Guinness, and that made your job much easier. Murphy always ordered a pint of Guinness, so somehow that became your go-to suggestion. Murphy liked it, so it must’ve been good, you figured.

There weren’t many nights Murphy didn’t spend at the pub, as long as he knew you were working. In fact, the MacManus brothers were somewhat akin to your personal chauffeur, driving you to the pub and staying there until the end of your shift to take you home. You could’ve easily walked, but the boys (mostly Murphy) were insistent.

South Boston was getting to be a dangerous place since Shannon was murdered, and he was paranoid of something bad happening to you, too. That, and he got a kick out of watching you waitress, that cute frame of yours bumbling about the smoky pub and serving drinks you had no idea the taste of. 

And on rowdy Friday nights such as this, it was good to keep his eye on you, in case one of the drunken patrons got a little handsy or rude.

“He’s got it bad,” laughed Rocco, watching in amusement at Murphy’s infatuation. “You gotta pop that cherry, man. Christ, I think I saw you droolin’ for a second there.”

“Shut it,” he said. He didn’t take his eyes away from you, entranced but your beauty. 

You could feel his eyes on you, and it wasn’t threatening or disconcerting at all. Rather, it was comforting, knowing he was there for you, and incredibly intoxicating, knowing he was sitting across the bar undressing you with his eyes, probably imagining something sweet and dirty and deliciously “sinful.”

You’d meet his gaze periodically, flashing him “fuck me eyes,” as Shannon, God rest her soul, would’ve said. And, oh, how you wanted him. He didn’t know it, but he was teasing you these last few weeks, constantly ending your innocent, unassuming dates with progressively more and more passionate kisses that had steadily escalated to groping. 

One night, you swore you almost had an orgasm just from his hand rubbing outside your jeans. He, too, ended each night with a rather noticeable problem in his pants, causing him to clumsily adjust his crotch as he left your apartment to climb into the passenger seat of Connor’s car, where his twin was waiting for him.

“Fuck ‘er yet?” he asked that night.

“Fuck you,” Murphy replied. “And no. Woulda been in there a lot longer if I did, I’d hope.”

Connor had still believed wholeheartedly that all Murphy needed was to lose his virginity to you, to get over you after it happened so he could focus on their divine calling, whatever it was.

He hadn’t warmed up to you much since you’d begun dating his brother, and you were sure he hated you. In truth, Connor was conflicted. He wanted his brother to be happy, but he was also concerned that you weren’t good for him—a distraction keeping him from the greatness he was destined to achieve. 

Destiny, in fact, was incredibly important to Connor. Less so to Murphy, who thought in smaller pictures and simpler terms. Of course, he believed in fate. He believed you were meant for each other, that God had created two souls in perfect harmony with one another, and that was a bigger kind of destiny than whatever “greatness” Connor believed was in store.

“I’m out of here,” slurred Connor in his drunken state. Drink was the only thing keeping him able to withstand Murphy’s displays of affection for you. He lifted himself clumsily from the bar stool, nearly knocking it over.

“You can’t leave,” protested Murphy. “Need your car to get (Y/N) home.”

He fished the keys out of his pocket and slammed them on the bar before Murphy. “There. I’ll walk. Don’t want to spend another minute with ya like this.”

“Like what?” Murphy asked, raising his voice above the chatter of the crowded bar in offense.

“Like a fool,” he scoffed. “A damn love struck fool, that’s what you are, Murph. Grow up.”

The only thing keeping him from yelling back was you, now approaching the bar to prepare the next order. Connor seemed disappointed, not at your presence, but at Murphy’s refusal to retaliate, as he always had. He was changing, because of you. He was growing up, but not in the way Connor wanted.

“Hi guys,” you said with a smile, bending over behind the bar to retrieve the bottle of vodka you needed to prepare the last patron’s drinks. “Think it’s slowing down now, huh?”

Connor rubbed his face and nodded, and you could tell something more tense than usual was in the air between the three of you. There was the usual sexual tension between you and Murphy, the brotherly quarrel between Murphy and Connor, and the suspicion with a tinge of jealousy Connor had towards you. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m, uh… I’m leaving.”

You frowned and moved your gaze to Murphy. “You leaving too?”

He shook his head as he took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m leaving when you’re leaving, love. Connor’s just a bit tired. Can’t hold his booze anymore, ya know.”

Murphy flashed a nasty, devious smirk at Connor, who simply scoffed at the remark, but it was Murphy’s way of getting back at Connor for calling him a fool, so he supposed it was warranted. 

“See ya’s later,” said Connor, and a flurry of goodbyes resounded from the other regulars who knew him well. 

The night continued rather uneventfully, with only a few skirmishes Murphy was quick to break up, assuming the unofficial role of security guard (mostly in an attempt to impress you).

Rocco was the last to leave, and, as usual, Murphy all but forced Doc to leave his own pub, insisting that you and him would close the bar for the night. 

“You just wanted to get me alone, huh?” you laughed, feeling his hands resting upon your waist as he held you from behind. 

“Is that so bad?” he asked. He nudged his head against yours, taking in a deep whiff of your intoxicating scent before kissing your cheek, tonguing at your skin with impatient fervor. 

You sighed and tried to focus on the task at hand: wiping down the table that Murphy had you pinned against as he showered you with affection. 

“Murphy,” you giggled. “I’m still on the clock.”

“Yeah, but Doc doesn’t know what we’re doin’,” he whispered in your ear. “You got any idea how fuckin’ beautiful you are, lass? Seriously, it’s like you’re from another planet.”

You snorted and shook your head, turning it to face him. “So I’m an alien now, hm?”

He smirked and leaned in to kiss your lips, and soon, somehow, he had you sitting on that table, your legs wrapped tight around his to keep his body as close to you as possible. You felt the familiarity of his hardening in between your legs, and as he kissed you, you felt a surge of electricity pulse through you.

“Murphy…” you whispered, though his lips caught yours again, massaging them and suckling them demandingly. “Murph… Mm, Murphy.” 

He smiled against your lips at your repetition. “Love it when you say my name,” he said. “So fucking sexy…” He rubbed your thighs up and down, hiking up the skirt of your button-up dress with each pass of his warm, strong hands. 

He peeked just a little at your pure white panties, pristine and virginal, just like you—and him, too. His tongue jutted out to lick his lips, and wriggled back and forth along the edge of his slightly agape mouth. You watched in lustful amusement at the wettening of his lips, pink and glossy from the coating of his saliva. How you wanted those lips to go where they hadn’t gone before, where no lips had ever gone before.

“I love your knickers,” he whispered in your ear. “Like to get them real wet… Soak ‘em. Maybe keep ‘em for myself… Never wash ‘em. Remind me of you.”

“Oh,” you laughed over his shoulder. “You’re a dirty, dirty boy, Murphy… So dirty… I thought you were a good Catholic boy?”

“Only when I wanna be,” he mumbled against your hair, eyes closed and mouth agape in utter ecstasy as the skin of his cheek grazed your soft tresses. “You tempt me into sin, mo shíorghrá.”

You sighed and giggled rather girlishly at whatever he had said to you in what you were sure must’ve been Irish, given just how natural it sounded on his lips.

“What does that mean, Irishman?” you cooed sweetly. 

His hazy eyes met yours, and his face turned sheepish when he realized the meaning of what he said. “Means ‘my eternal love.’”

It was the first time you’d heard him say the infamous L word. At least, in reference to you. It took you by surprise, especially since you’d only been dating for about a month, give or take. You supposed you’d known him longer, but it still all felt so new, so unfamiliar, but exciting. 

You were sure that you loved him, that the fact that he constantly occupied your mind proved it, and that being with him was unlike any experience you ever had. It was carefree, simple, and beautiful in every way. You loved him, but it didn’t come to the forefront of your mind until now.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and loosening his body from your grip. “I, uh… I got carried away.”

Oh no, you thought. He didn’t mean it.

Even if he didn’t mean it, you had to hear it again, that sweet sound in his voice. Knowing what it meant now, you wanted to hear it even more. “Can you say it again?” you asked. “Please?”

He fell silent, but sunk his body back into yours until he was situated snugly between your legs, dangling from the high table.

He looked you dead in the eye now, and you swore you saw the corner of his lip curl in that mischievous smirk of his. “Mo shíorghrá,” he said. “You like that?”

“I love it,” you said. “I, um… I love you, Murphy.”

He’d dreamed you’d say those words to him, and before he met you, for so long all he wanted was someone to come along and say that to him the way you just did, with so much truth and purity. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic, but he always knew he’d give himself to someone he loved, that she would have his heart, body, and soul completely. Someone who loved him back, now that was even better.

“You mean that?” he asked, the tickle of his fingers grazing your neck as he swept back your hair. His eyes almost seemed to water, becoming glassy with moisture. 

Is he crying? you wondered. God, he’s precious.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a laugh. “I love you… Is this too soon?”

“No,” he replied immediately. “No, not at all. Actually, I… Well, I think I’ve loved you a long time. Since I first saw you. Was like Cupid slung an arrow into my ass.”

“Really?” you asked. Rosy cheeks bulged on your face as you beamed at the revelation. “Why did you wait so long to talk to me, Murphy?”

He shrugged as he asked himself that question, too. “Never been great with girls,” he said. “They like Connor, usually. Not me. Was worried I’d just make a fool of myself… Connor thinks I’m a fool anyway.”

His head lowered, and you reached up to hold his chin to bring his eyes back up to yours. “Why?”

“Because I love you… Am I a fool, lass?”

You shook your head. “If you’re a fool,” you said, “then I’m a fool, too. We can be fools together.”

His smile faded slowly, like the sun sinking gradually beneath the horizon, giving way to darkness, or in this case, an intense look of desire that rivaled anything you’d seen from him before. It was impatient and hungry, but still loving and sweet. 

He licked his lips again, wandering his gaze over your body. Your button-up dress was low-cut enough to hint at the junction between your breasts, and the more he looked at you, the more he found himself wanting, needing, to free you from the confines of your cloth prison.

“Murphy,” you sighed. “What is it?”

“Say it again,” he said. “Tell me you love me.”

Your legs tightened around him as if on their own accord, and your arms brought him closer until you could feel his warm, heavy breath upon your skin. Somehow you’d worked up a sweat sitting in that stuffy bar, or maybe it was just from the heat of Murphy’s body so close to yours. 

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear just before kissing gently below his lobe.

“Again.”

His fingers were slowly climbing up and down your sides as the space between you became nonexistent, your cores aligned perfectly. Any sudden movements on your part and you might’ve made him lose all control, but the risk was invigorating. Murphy had no idea what he was doing, as usual when he touched you, all he knew was that he liked it, and that you liked it.

You liked it so much you threw your head back, and Murphy quickly seized the opportunity to latch his lips just below your jawline, sucking at your supple skin to make a mark that would surely be visible by morning.

“I love you, Murphy,” you sighed up to the ceiling, or maybe to the Heavens. “I love you… I love you… I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated against your lips now. “Mo shíorghrá… Sono pazzo di te… J’ai besoin de vous…”

You giggled as he voraciously attacked your lips, speaking in whatever language he pleased between kisses, though never taking his lips far from yours.

“Murphy,” you mumbled. “I can’t understand you.”

His lips tore from yours in a fit of passion, and with shaky hands he held your heated cheeks, looking you dead in the eyes once more. They were blackened, narrowed more than usual. He had a severe need in him, more potent than ever before. You felt it, too, like a fire raging in your lower abdomen, electricity pulsing wildly in your core. Just looking at him reminded you of the small puddle of moisture in your panties, making you wonder if he really wanted them.

“Can I take your virginity?” he asked bluntly. Nuance was beyond him now, he could only speak in the simplest of terms. 

There wasn’t any question in your mind: you wanted him to be your first, your last, your always.

“Yes,” you said. “But, um… Here?”

He shrugged and broke out into a smirk, a dangerous smirk. Dangerously handsome, of course. You weren’t entirely sure you could survive the trip to your apartment, and you certainly weren’t going to lose your virginity at his apartment, just a few feet from his twin brother. 

“Why not?” he asked playfully. “Got the place to ourselves. Beds are overrated… Just need a rubber…” He patted his pockets, but he knew he didn’t have any condoms. “Shit!”

You perked up and jumped off the table, much to Murphy’s confusion. “Where ya goin’?” he asked.

“I have condoms,” you said excitedly, rummaging through your purse behind the bar. 

Murphy raised an eyebrow and smirked, walking closer to you with a mischievous swagger.

“You expectin’ something, lass?”

You held the orange wrapper awkwardly in your hand, as if unsure of what to do with it. In truth, you sort of were.

“No… I mean, I don’t know. I just thought, since we’re seeing each other…”

Before you knew it, he was pinning you against the bar, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist. You reached your arms behind you to prop yourself up on the bar as his lips devoured you once more.

“Condom,” you laughed against his ear. “Put on that condom, Murph. Let’s be each other’s firsts.”

He swallowed hard as his nerves got to him. He was terrified of doing something wrong, but more than that, he was desperate to feel something so right.

He took the condom from your fingertips, stepping back and almost knocking over the liquor cabinet behind him. He held it almost as awkwardly as you did, and looked up to you for guidance. 

“So, uh… What do you want me to do?”

You laughed and shrugged bashfully. “Well, maybe you should take your shirt off, and then I’ll take off mine.”

Sweet Jesus, he thought. Every fantasy he ever had was about to come to life right in front of his very eyes. He knew then that God was real.

“Okay,” he said. He cleared his throat before setting the condom aside, then reached for the hem of his shirt to strip it from his body.

You’d seen him shirtless, but, God, was it beautiful now especially.

“Your turn,” he said.

It was then you remembered you were, in fact, in a dress. Shit.

“Um… okay.”

You started at the top, unbuttoning the first button on your dress before you could pull it over your head. Murphy’s hand appeared in your line of vision moments later, helping you unbutton the last few buttons that you needed. 

He must’ve been impatient as he reached down to pull your dress over your head with a sudden burst of confidence. He might’ve been nervous, but he was sure he’d go crazy if he went another moment without seeing your body in all its glory.

Now he stood before you between your legs, shirtless but still with his lower half clad in light wash jeans. Returning the favor, you undressed him this time, your hands coming dangerously close to his crotch as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. 

They fell with a thud, and now you were equal, barely clad in anything but your undergarments.

He moved to kiss you again, and tentatively moved his hands to feel your breasts underneath your bra, and never before had you felt so suffocated by that garment.

“Take it off,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Take off my bra.”

After fumbling with the clasp, he stripped your chest, and the supple flesh that greeted him was beautiful beyond his comprehension. Your nipples hardened with the immediate exposure to the air, and the way they bounced with your movement as you reached forward to touch his waist was mesmerizing, to say the least.

His mouth hung open slightly as his eyes glued to your nipples, in awe of their perfection. They looked just like they did in the magazines, only better because they were yours, and different. The same, but different. 

“Wow,” he said under his breath. “You’re so beautiful… They’re beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said shyly, though you had a focus trained on his boxers, tight enough to see the outline of what must’ve been his genitalia. If you weren’t mistaken, his cock was hard, begging to be released. 

“Let’s take ‘em off at the same time, yeah?” he asked. 

You wriggled your panties off, as he stripped himself of his boxers, and the both of you froze in time for a few moments to take in each other’s nude forms. Murphy was a man, that was for sure. A man with a cock you couldn’t take your eyes away from.

He reached for the condom and tore it from the wrapper, and rather clumsily applied the object to his erect penis. 

“Does this look right?” he asked you, as if you knew the answer.

You smiled and tilted your head as you studied his cock. “Hm… I think so. Are you ready, baby?”

Your voice quivered as you spoke, despite how confident you tried to sound. Of course, you were confident that you wanted this, but nervous nevertheless.

He moved with a grunt and took a hold of you again, once more throwing your legs around his waist. He kissed every square inch of your face, and reached down to touch your pussy, that coveted artifact he’d dreamt of so many times.

“Ohhh!” you exclaimed into his mouth. Even just his fingers grazing your clit was powerful enough to send the beginnings of shockwaves through your body. 

He pulled his hand away momentarily, but you quickly guided it back. “Touch me,” you panted against his ear. “Just like that… My… My clit.” You guided his fingers to that little bundle of nerves you were no stranger to, and he watched intently to see the anatomy of your body, as if taking notes. 

He held you tight with his other arm, but it wasn’t enough to keep you from jolting at the pressure of his clumsy fingers. 

“Murphy,” you laughed. “Oh, that’s so good.”

You watched his fingers rubbing you, getting slowly more confident with each pass over your clit. Still, you couldn’t help but admire his cock, hard and sticking up on end, with the most precious bulbous tip throbbing and reddened.

“You want it?” he asked as he rubbed you. “Touch it… Please.”

With the hand that wasn’t touching you, he guided your fingers along the shaft until you were rubbing him, and both of you were on the verge of your orgasms, you especially.

“Oh, oh… K-keep going.”

Your hips thrust hard against his palm, and with another swirl of his fingers, you melted into a cascade of intense pulses, throwing you over the edge into utter bliss. It wasn’t that you hadn't felt an orgasm before, you’d felt it from your own fingers, but this was different, more pleasurable because it was his doing. His fingers were inexperienced and clumsy, but they were his.

“Murphy,” you moaned. “Murphy! Oh, yes, Murphy!”

“I love you,” he said. “Did that feel good?”

You laughed and brought him in for another sweet kiss, soaking his lips with your saliva. “So good,” you said.

Despite your iron grip on his broad shoulders, he backed away with his cock in his hands, eying your glistening pussy as it still pulsed ever so slightly from your orgasm. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “That looks so good.”

You arched your back and nearly purred in arousal at the look on his face, all at once devious and blinded by lust. 

Your legs widened further on the bar, and you beckoned him forward with your finger. “Come on, big boy,” you teased. “Get in here.”

It took a great deal of willpower, that Murphy usually did not have, not to slam into you, going as deep as he could before breaking you in. For all his ignorance of sex and the opposite gender, he knew women needed to go slow their first time, and he loved you too much to ever hurt you, especially not during such a magical, intimate moment.

Your face was buried in the crook of his shoulder as his tip entered the shallow end of your entrance, and both of you became immensely aware of your tightness.

“Let me know if you need me to stop,” he whispered clearly in your ear. “I don’t wanna hurt you, love.”

You kissed his neck before trailing your lips over his jawline and onto his cheek. “Deeper,” you simply said.

He happily obliged, slowly inching further into you. He clung tightly to your back, trying with so much might not to come in a matter of seconds, but the feeling he’d never felt before—the warmth, the squeeze of your fleshy walls, the tightness consuming him, the gentle twitching of your canal as you made room for him—was so intense, so hard to ignore.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “(Y/N)… Feels so good.”

You winced in slight pain at the feeling of snapping as he ventured further, and a sensation almost akin to burning appeared. Still, knowing he was inside of you was such a wonderful idea, and that was enough to have you moaning his name right back.

“Murphy,” you groaned into his neck. “You’re in me, baby… Mmm, you’re in me.” You laughed deliriously, causing him to break out into an adorable fit of boyish giggles.

“I know,” he said, and planted a kiss upon your shoulder. “You’re so tight, love. Can I move inside ya?”

“Yes,” you said. “Just go slow at first, okay?”

He nodded and held you closer as he thrusted gently, feeling his cock bury deeper inside of your increasingly wet pussy.

“Ohhh….” he moaned. “Fuck…”

The snapping feeling in your pussy gradually became less intense with each pass, his cock effectively stretching you out to match his girth. Pain gave way to pleasure, and you rocked back against him, allowing his cock even deeper until he reached your hilt.

“So deep,” he groaned. 

“Faster,” you said. “Fuck me, Murphy.”

He swallowed hard before beginning to thrust harder, moving back and forth in your pussy as his hips flexed and jerked to get himself off inside you. 

You found yourself leaning back on the counter, laying yourself down to get a look at him as he rammed into you, faster and more desperate with each heavy thrust.

He watched your chest bouncing, then reached out to massage the tissue with each strong, steady hand.

“Christ,” he mumbled. “You got the body of an angel.”

You laughed as you wriggled under his hands. “Mmm, Murphy… I love your cock in me, baby.”

“I—I’m gonna come.”

His body jolted almost violently, thrusting wildly into you as his face strained and his eyes fluttered as if he was in daze, and perhaps he was. The best orgasm of his life pulsed through his cock, causing it to twitch inside of you rapidly as he unleashed a flow of opaque white liquid into the condom’s reservoir.

He let out several strained whimpers which melted into blissful moans of relief. His eyes opened hazily as he finished unloading, and he broke out into a delirious smile when his sight met yours.

“I love you,” he laughed. 

You reached up to grasp his cheeks, pulling him down to meet your prone body on the counter. His lips crashed onto yours as you held him tight to your chest. “I love you, too, sweet boy.”

He buried his head in the crook of your shoulder where he doused you in kisses and lovebites for minutes on end, and when he moved, you noticed the feeling of his softening cock still inside you. It felt heavenly, but you tickled his back to get his attention.

“You’re still in me, silly,” you laughed. “You can’t stay here all night.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Why can’t I? I like it in here. Might just move in permanently. How much is the rent?”

“Free for you,” you said. “But you can pay in kisses if you’re so inclined.”

“Kisses, eh?” He firmly pressed his lips to your cheeks, and dotted sweet little pecks all over the rest of your face as you squirmed beneath him. You broke out into raucous giggles, intertwined with half-hearted shouts of his name every time his stubble grazed your soft skin. 

“You like my kisses, mo shíorghrá?” 

You rolled your eyes, as you knew he knew the answer to that question, but his cockiness had once again risen to the surface. You couldn’t say you didn’t love it, though.

“I love them, Murphy. Everything you do makes me indescribably happy… I’ve never felt this good in my whole life.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said. “Think God made us for each other.”

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, yeah? He did, did he? Well, who am I to argue with the almighty creator of the universe?”

You weren’t entirely sure how you both managed to fall asleep on the bar, you two practically on top of each other as you held on for dear life to the other’s sweaty, naked body. 

It was only when the morning came, sunlight rather rudely awakening you as it shone through the tinted windows of the pub, that you realized how terribly unsanitary it was to have sex on a bar. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, causing Murphy to stir and rub his eyes as he awoke. 

“Maidin mhaith, cailín álainn,” he yawned, stretching his arms dramatically over his head. He folded his hands behind his head as he watched your naked figure fumble about for your clothes. “I think you should keep your clothes off, love. Quite like you like this.”

You smiled at him as you pulled your panties up your legs. He bit his lip, eyes hazily wandering about the five or so hickies he’d left on your chest and neck. He was immensely proud of himself, and you were sure you could get used to this cocky side of him.

“I think we’ve spent enough time naked in here,” you said. “We’ve got to clean this bar. I think Doc keeps the sanitizing spray down here.” You bent down to search under the bar, while Murphy busied himself with gathering his own clothes. 

“He’ll never know, lass,” he assured you. He seemed to pick up on your stress as you sprayed frantically and wiped down the counter with great pressure and speed. “Our little secret, hm?”

You felt his lips on your neck again, his tongue jutting out to lick the sensitive hickies on your skin. “Look what I did to ya,” he said. “Hope it didn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” you sighed. “I like it… Reminds me of what we did last night… Did you like it?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Like to do it again… Real, real soon…”

His hands trailed up your abdomen to grasp at your breasts, still bare and hardened from exposure to the early morning air permeating in the stuffy bar. 

“Not here,” you laughed. “Already broke so many health codes. My place next time.”

“When’s next time?”

You turned around in his arms and pecked his lips in amusement at his impatience. “Tonight?” you asked. “I don’t think I could go much longer than that… I already miss feeling you inside me.”

He raised an eyebrow as his gaze moved down to your panties, slightly stained from how much you’d soaked them last night.

“Can I keep these?” he asked.

Your eyes widened. “What? You were serious about that?”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a smirk. “Little souvenir… If that’s okay?”

“Well, I’m going to have to leave here without any underwear under my dress…”

“Oh well.”

Murphy dropped you off that morning, walking you home in the dim early morning light through the still quiet streets of South Boston. Despite how tired he was, he walked with a spring in his step towards his apartment, eager to brag to Connor about his accomplishment.

“Rise and shine, you eejit!” he shouted joyously as the elevator doors opened to reveal the fifth floor loft. He stepped through the threshold of the apartment, removing his black peacoat and hanging his coveted rosary on the hook by the door all the while. “You’re not gonna believe the night I’ve had, Connor. Me and (Y/N)... Man, it was amazing. I mean, it was a little awkward ‘cause we both didn’t know what we were doin’, but she was a goddess. And we’re gonna do it again to—”

He finally turned himself around to face Connor’s bed, where the older twin was holding a large ice pack on his forehead. He had been beaten senseless, cut and bruised and covered in dirt, perhaps even a footprint or two.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Murphy, eyes wide and lips agape in concern. “Fuck, what happened to you?”

He huffed and tried to sit up straight. “Also had a hell of a night… Though I think you had more fun than me.”

Concern melted quickly into hot, molten rage at the sight of his brother in this state, beaten and hardly able to move without wincing in pain. “Who the fuck did this?”

“Murph—”

“Nah, who the fuck did this, Connor?!”

He shook his head before giving into Murphy’s demand. “Tony and his little mafia friends… Mighta been able to take ‘em if I wasn’t outnumbered. He had five guys, including that big fella. The bodyguard.”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Murphy paced in circles around the one-room apartment, running his fingers through his hair and nearly panting in rage. “We gotta do somethin’, Con. This kinda shit is what got…” He trailed off as memories flooded back, memories of a time he’d rather forget. “You know…”

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I know.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Murphy huffed. “This is my fault. Shoulda been with you.”

Connor shook his head. “Nah, nah. I was being an asshole, and you shoulda been with (Y/N). She loves you.”

Murphy lowered his head, almost bashfully. “I know she does,” he said. “And if Tony’s out here doing shit like this to you, what if he comes after her next? Shit, I wouldn’t be at all shocked if he was the one who killed Shannon.”

Connor perked up, intrigued by the mystery. “You think so?”

Murphy pieced together the puzzle in his head, then cursed himself for being so blind. “Of course! He didn’t do it himself, he had some mafioso do it. Sent him to the coffee shop when he knew (Y/N) was working, but she wasn’t there. She was with me still, back at the station. Christ, he wanted to kill (Y/N) but he got Shannon instead!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Connor. “Slow your roll, all right? No need to start spewing conspiracy theories.”

“This is not a theory, it’s real,” he insisted. “And I’m getting to the bottom of it. Right now.”

Murphy put on his coat about as quickly as he’d taken it off, along with his rosary and a swiftness in his step.

“Goddamnit, Murphy.”

Connor reluctantly lifted himself from the bed, with great strain on his injured body, and slipped on a shirt before catching up to him, determined to make sure he didn’t get himself in more trouble than he was already surely in.

~

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[sh4tt3rg1rl]

HEY

here’s your excuse to rant about the entires

GO FOR IT

AFIAJWIUFHSAUIF

OK OK so. Dusk’s first thought is WHO TF IS SUN, people hate me, and people are depending on me. Not the greatest way to start out

She goes on to describe sun in “emotionless” detail. She probably described how she left and her addiction. (This is important)

It’s unknown HOW dusk found the bar especially considering its supposed to be well enough hidden for most people to not find it very quickly but i hc that she found it because she followed Sun there at some point or smth. Maybe Sun left something important there and she went to go pick it up for her because she was in distress??? Idk (thats not a hint to Sun Lore ™ just spittin ideas)

She then says that she wants to fall in love with someone and be cared about by someone. HMMMM. I sure do wonder why that is! “Wanted” “cared about” “loved” “lights up the room” she has priorities. I can see that she probably feels overwhelmed by all of the problems she has and wants someone SHE can lean on while everyone else leans on HER. huge oversight, northa and easton, when coding her: if everyone is supposed to depend on her, how can she ever depend on anyone else?? Hm??? 

Jesus christ the next entries. All trauma

I like how it constantly keeps hinting back to something like “hurting themselves” followed/predecessed by something among the lines of “sun got drunk again”

I then ADORE the idea of her being so overwhelmed but finding so much peace in designing her little world :hic: :sob: and then BOOM Sun. Because of course its sun. she cares about sun too much (affectionate) (evil)

“I should not speak of what I have seen today” OOOH It hit right in the heart! /ref

A lot of Sun, a lot of rise in talking about Insanity + Alpen + Sigil (just the whole sun family really) a lot of random people being hurt or hurting themselves or hurting each other. So just another tuesday in the amazing digital circus

OK havent said it yet but OH MY COD i love the fact that her so called ‘gifted’ powers cause her to pretty much notice every little thing about people’s emotions and feelings

And like. My COD the mention of “it hurting too much” when she was in the cellar… I SEE YOU ELSIE. She feels the emotions of everyone there too, doesn’t she. Along with her own emotions from seeing Sun like… that (and Sigil’s AND insanity’s)

And then she finally makes some friends!

Oops, one of them is FUCKED in the head and knows nothing other than work!

“Entry 404” YOU LITTLE- /pos

(also this is probably not intentional but 404 in pager codes means "I will always love you". smiles with tears in my eyes)

“Bob is dead” Its so over for her (mental breakdown ensues)

…I have so many more thoughts but they are rotating in my brain and i cant pull them out so this was more of a live reaction than a psychoanalysis but AW_FIJSAUFHIUAWFHIUSJFOIAFOIAFSJ FPAJWUFIHSAO IFAJWOF I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE ELSEI GBRAABS YOU

…want me to make a playlist for dusk?

#that last part qualifies this as a xeya screams lyrics but i wont tag it cause its Long #xeyasks

[thesherrinfordfacility]

(last anon= me, was a bit anxious it might not go over well for some reason- off now bc changing the capitalization was a pain)

i agree on the human aus! love their flexibility, the sorta "yeah, may as well happen" you get clicking on something (with love) completely ridiculous. it's also so much fun to see what people do with crowley's eyes and his relationship to the glasses.

i'm very very early in planning this, but i want a&c to be as close to theirshow characterizations as i can possibly get them (book boys are amazing but i want the drama). i don't know that i'll do a very good job at justifying it with their backstories, but i'm gonna try. (idk. people have different opinions on personality being nature vs nurture. i can claim majority nature if it's more convenient)

i'm thinking here that crowley, personally, would have had to kill somebody or a couple somebodies, in an absolute (it at least appeared so, still does), life or death, them or him scenario (only his life saved). said somebody or somebodies would have attacked first, and out of desperation-- not totally their choice either. i'm assuming for the sake of the fic that he'd be able to do it at all, and then survive a couple decades after, so there's... something.

i just can't figure out exactly how he'd have coped with it, and whether he'd, later, think of it as justified, like how much guilt there would be. don't know what's even plausible.

my biggest problem is that framing him as 100% Good and Pure (and weirdly helpless?) like ppl do sometimes is literally my biggest fear writing this (huge mischaracterization in general). i don't want to go for the exact same indifference as in the show, for reasons you mentioned (and also that level of apathy would fuck up the entire rest of the fic), but not too far in the opposite direction, either.

tysm for the first response and considering a second, this seems a whole lot more solvable- and sorry if it's a lot to ask to go over all this (although your ability to hold a shit ton of information at once and then respond eloquently is impressive asf, looking at like every chain with LWA), i just drew a bit of a blank. also my bad if it's got a little heavy for your blog, just realized looking at the tags 😭

oh @aq-uatic you silly goose!!!✨ im absolutely fine with asks like that, please feel free to sling them my way anytime!!! ultimately tho, that's what the tw was for; just in case it was a bit heavy for someone else, but for me, personally? there's not a lot of themes that i feel uncomfortable discussing, almost all topics are welcome and i'll soon say if they aren't!!!💕

ooooh okay, so a self-defence angle!!! i think that that could be interesting to explore, because - well, you could take it from the perspective that crowley is initially very righteous in defending himself, rightly thinking that he deserved to protect himself, and the use of force was proportionate. he could initially come across as quite dispassionate and apathetic about it, "me vs. them? well of course it was going to be me!", and ultimately not want to address the whole concept of having committed murder because, on face value, it was justified. and maybe he privately doesn't want to examine it bc he's apprehensive about what he'd find?

but then as plot (and character) develops, turns out that because the whole thing was so fast, fuelled by adrenaline and the instinct to survive, crowley ends up... not being able to remember much of it? and as details start to come back, i think that's where the cognitive dissonance element would play - that he then has to reconcile himself as being someone who he feels is morally sound, 'would never harm another human being', a good person... but then is starting to remember his fear in the situation, confronting his own mortality, and what it says about him to be able to take another life with little thought other than his own self-preservation? as well as remember the specific physical details of what happened? the sounds, the smells? looks in the mirror afterwards and sees a different person looking back?

obviously without knowing the full motive of the person attacking him, who they are, what their story is etc.,... i think crowley could end up dealing with it in a way that he accepts that he cannot control others' actions, only his own. that that person chose to put him in the position of having to defend himself, and whilst, yes, that person may have had a family, friends, potential... when he's in a position of ensuring his own survival, he may have actually made the best decision he could have at the time. idk if you're planning to explore the attacker's circumstances in any depth, but if - for example - they were trying to rob him out of their own desperation (e.g. homelessness/austerity, fund addiction, peer pressured/gang context, mental health), maybe crowley would deal with that by exploring charitable work, or good causes, that seek to alleviate that very desperation? and that's how he heals from the experience?

again, hoping this might be some food for thought!!!✨💕 please do link me your fic when you've posted anything, i really admire how you're exploring this concept and it sounds really interesting and promising!!! i'll reiterate that i love getting asks, especially when they explore topics like this; i feel the LWA ones are a little bit of an anomaly, for being really analysis-heavy (which i love, let me clear), but getting to be a bit creative is exciting for me too!!!✨

#good omens #ask #tw: death #<- again adding this just in case!!!💕

[this-strange-obsession]

Rant #4002746 (post-rant note: this is pretty lengthy boys and I’m not sorry bc it needs to be said)

(God I rant too much about this comic, but honestly this is the only place I can do that)

Okay, so, once again seeing a fairly common opinion among the fandom which I don’t agree with, so you all know what time it is!! That’s right! Another of my stupid piping hot takes!!

This episode is the result of the idea that Jekyll deserves all the hate and that he’s the bad guy in the story, blah blah blah. I know, I know, I’m just defending him because I relate to him to an alarming degree, BUT. I also think that everyone forgets that the rest of the characters we see in TGS aren’t exactly saints either.

I saw someone else point this out, but I didn’t know if everyone forgot or decided to ignore it, but Robert said some shitty stuff to Jekyll. And the thing is, he didn’t even do it as a one-off thing. I’ve warmed up to Robert, but I still don’t entirely like him. The biggest thing is obviously the whole breakup scene. And we could argue here that Jekyll interpreted incorrectly, HOWEVER. While Lanyon himself didn’t recite verbatim what was said, he still admitted it was “venomous” and he was lashing out.

Idk who needs to hear this, because it’s a very important thing to remember irl we tend to forget, but somebody taking their anger/stress out on their partner- physically OR verbally- IS NOT OKAY. In ANY situation.

It is NOT excusable. Regardless of the fact Lanyon was breaking up with Jekyll, especially BECAUSE he was breaking up with Jekyll, he has no right to yell or berate his partner the way he did. That’s the whole theme of this comic- not understanding how to communicate in a healthy way. It’s not just a problem Jekyll has and everyone is forgetting that.

You are allowed to be emotional in that scenario. You are allowed to be angry. But you have to understand how to feel angry in a way that doesn’t hurt anybody, whether that’s you or the people around you. You collect your thoughts beforehand, and at least somewhat try to articulate what you want to say. You blend the emotion with the logic, not just rid yourself of one or the other.

Lanyon did none of that. He was kind of self-destructing and in doing so, he pierced Jekyll with stray shrapnel. That was so not okay. And that’s me getting upset over the general description of the breakup. The fact that Lanyon essentially told Jekyll he was expendable?? Absolutely not. No. I was LIVID when I read that.

I don’t give a fuck, Lanyon in that moment was a piece of shit, and I hate him for it. And I’m even paraphrasing here, the actual quote was something closer to, “why would anybody give up their future prospects for someone like you?” OH MY FUCKING GODDD. “SOMEONE LIKE YOU?” “SOMEONE LIKE YOU????” OH HELL NO.

That’s not even touching on the fact that we can assume from how Jekyll described everything, this was his first gay relationship. This was the first time he acted on his “sinful desires.” And the way it ends is like this?

Once again, I relate to Jekyll a painful amount, and while it didn’t go exactly like this, it threw me back to the last argument me and my best friend had. Our relationship was… complicated. We liked each other, but it always seemed to be off. They would get into a relationship when I was acknowledging my feelings, and when I was repressing them, my best friend would starting pursuing me. At one point, we had a sort of unspoken thing going on where we both understood our feelings and we were VERY obviously gay for each other and even got a little too touchy for “just two good friends” frequently. But we never made it official. Over the last few months of the friendship, they became more distant and withdrawn. I confronted them about it, we had a huge and messy argument, and they said some really uncalled-for things. I have really bad mommy issues (TM), and they said something that really crossed the line.

I know I was no saint during our friendship or the argument, but jesus christ, there are just some things you should never say to people. And the fact that it was my closest friend and first queer crush/situationship(?) who said it? Of course I developed trust issues and trouble communicating my true feelings, like??

..Idk that just hit a nerve and I hate that people act like either of them are the victim. Again, I’m not saying Jekyll is completely innocent, but he’s also not completely guilty.

It’s not even JUST the breakup scene I hate. Lanyon is STILL kind of an asshole and enables Jekyll’s whole glass scientist complex. During the ball (I can’t remember the reason for it exactly, I think it was just for keeping appearances and connections.) when Jekyll was having horrible hallucinations and acting completely unlike himself, all Lanyon did was reinforce that idea that Jekyll just needs to pretend like he’s someone he isn’t.

If y’all don’t remember, Jekyll ran outside in the middle of the party because he was seeing a lot of disturbing shit and Moreau’s ghost grabbed him. When Lanyon found him, Jekyll was fervently babbling about Moreau following and judging him because he knows Jekyll’s “rotten on the inside.”

So how does Lanyon console him? He just starts his spiel about how it doesn’t matter if Jekyll is actually rotten on the inside, as long as he’s decent on the outside.

BRUH, I’M—

AHHHHHHHHH

..ehem..

I KNOW he immediately backpedals by saying Jekyll is the most decent guy he knows, but in that context, in Jekyll’s eyes, he was interpreting that as, “you are the most OUTWARDLY decent guy I know.” So that did jack-shit for Jekyll’s sanity because as much as Lanyon could have meant it about his personality, he didn’t execute it very well!?

There’s other little things I hate about him, such as the whole thing where instead of just fucking asking for an open and honest conversation, he goes behind Jekyll’s back and snoops in his office for answers. The thought of asking only occurs to him after this when Lucy points it out.

Idk, I like Lanyon as a character, I do- it’s just that I feel like we let him off the hook far too easily anytime he says or does something wrong just because he’s doing what he thinks is best for Jekyll.

There are better ways to go about supporting someone you care about. And it’s driven home a thousand times over that healthy communication is not a phrase these idiots have in their vocabulary, but I guess that keeps going way over some people’s heads and it’s been so goddamn frustrating seeing them drag Jekyll for things OTHER FUCKING CHARACTERS DO.

#the glass scientists #jekyll x lanyon #this is a callout post #their relationship needs to be addressed properly #so does every other character in tgs tbh #idc i’m calling out every one of these mfs #no one is safe lmao

[swaggypsyduck]

Yall I’m new to stanning football. I came here straight from the world cup and I’m not gonna lie this shit is beating my ass. Is it always in the mud like this? I chose psg because that seems like the best option because they got messi, neymar, and mbappe who are literally the three players that caught my attention during the tournament! Yall I really thought this was going to be fun. 😭 What’s going on? Why does everything feel so confused and chaotic (not in a good energetic way, more like headless chicken running kind of way) but also weirdly sluggish and slow? Yall I don’t understandddddddd. It’s like the team has four different personalities all at once? It’s so… unpleasing to watch yall it was not like this during the world cup. 😭

I hope they get better. But I’ve been reading the psg girlies on tumble and … it seems like nobody has hope it’s going to get better? I mean surely it will? Right? I feel like everybody has given up on the season and I’m scared. 😭 I hope Kylian feels better soon. I was thinking maybe we can do trades with other teams but apparently business hours is already closed and will next open in the summer? The fuck? But we dont got anyone? And almost everyone is dropping like flies? What happens if the big guy on the fishnet gets a flue or just gets sick in general? We just dont get anyone?

Also the coach looks like he should be in a martin scorsese film with robert de niro and joe pesci. The fuck is he doing on the pitch tho?

We need to bounce back QUICK! We need positive vibes! Energy! We need God to be honest but I feel like I’ve spent all my credit with him praying for Messi to win the world cup. My account with God is all maxed out. Yall. I cant sleep until I figure this shit out. Somebody do something!

Do we have a secret weapon? Like what is the plan here? What is plan b? Oh my goddddd. This parasocial relationship is with these players really do beating my ass. I’m out here worried for them!

hi anon! wow this is a doozy. ill try to break down my response but idk if it'll do ur rant justice LOL

1) Welcome newcomer! as u may have seen in the world cup, if there's one thing someone should tell u before u enter the football world is that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING is guaranteed. you could have the strongest defense, the best goalie, gamemaster midfielders, and strikers w amazing finishes and you'll still lose to an underdog team who has better teamwork and chemistry. or just one player decides "uk what? imma earn my paycheck today" and demolishes the other team.

2) psg is a joke. ill tell u right now. lose any and all expectations. we clown on them bc even if they played shit before but at least they were winning. now they're playing shit and LOSING! and thats the problem we have. the 4 personalities at once thing is absolutely correct. you have 3 well seasoned forwards who are used to being the "it" strikers of their team. on top of that we have NO MIDFIELD AND A SHIT MANAGER WHO CANT GET A TACTIC OUT OF HIS ASS EVEN IF I SHOVED IT IN THERE MYSELF!!!... sorry i lost it a bit there lol.

3) as yes transfer window closing. see that's also Galtier and that fuckin toad incharge of players who DIDN'T MAKE A TRANSFER UNTIL LAST MINUTE AND LET CHELSEA FUCK THEM OVER. and sorry to burst ur bubble but there's a chance key players might leave/retire by that summer so lets hope they promise them to bring in an actual proper midfield by then.

4) So another thing to consider if one of the reasons u chose psg was for messi... i wouldnt. This isn't his club. this is his retirement club. ramos too actually. they've finished their careers. they actually have absolutely nothing to lose LOL. messi's heart will always be in barcelona. as in he literally knows nothing else except barça

5) injuries suck. but they are a part of the game. if u play any contact sport u know the feeling. even non-contcact sports there r still big injuries. everyone is hoping kylian gets better soon. he needs all the rest he can get 🤲🏼.

6) Our secret weapon? BHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! prayers i guess. nah im kidding. but there really isn't any secret weapon unless u count galtier deciding to pick up a tactic book? or leaving and getting replaced by pep or zidane. to use ur weapon analogy we have a dented shield that still works (defense) and a bunch of bullets (forwards) but no gun (midfield) to load them.

7) ik u were joking about that last part but the parasocial relationship?? do ur absolute best to minimize it. like as someone who's been watching the beautiful game since i was a kid its okay and fun to joke about it and worry/send love to ur faves but u have to remember: those are grown ass men getting payed hundreds of millions to kick a ball around while those in their cities that pay to watch them are in heating/housing crisis. so when we eat the rich ill be cutting them up w tears uk?

hope this helped LOL.

#ask #wow what a long one #sorry yall