#You may ask why I changed Frank's clothes

[catlover4536]

Shh they are holding hands.

#welcome home #frank frankly #eddie dear #frankly dear #eddie x frank #frank x eddie #This might be too late for pride bUT it isn't too late for my heart #LOOK at them #You may ask why I changed Frank's clothes #The answer? #I did not have the patience to do Frank's vest this time #I love you Frank but that vest kills me to color #plus it goes well with his white shoes bc this puppet man works well in white surprisingly #it really compliments his nerdy attire #my art #proving these two are precious and spreading the propaganda #even tho I'm 99 percent sure that most of the fandom already ships them

[ace-turned-confused]

whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader

summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part xoxo word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, POV changes (i tried my best pls be nice), no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joel’s filthy mouth a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it ✌️ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you okay bye divider by @saradika-graphics

You've been looking forward to this all week — date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home — but he always ensures it’s a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.

He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, “How ‘bout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?” It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you. 

You glance at him, “So what’s in it for you, then?”

“No ulterior motive here, sweetheart,” he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, “You always look pretty for me, I just thought I’d return the favour.”

“Hm, that’s a big decision,” you mutter with a playful smile.

You’re well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear — he’s always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not — and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew you’d both benefit from.

“I may have some ideas. Why don’t we make a deal, then?” you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. “You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.” Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s trying to figure out the game you’re playing.

“And what would that entail?” he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.

“Will you wear that red shirt again… with the sleeves rolled up?” you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.

“Sure will,” he says, still smirking. You’re only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.

“And… those black pants of yours…?”

“Which ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,” he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice. “You know which ones,” you mutter, your hand stilling.

He shifts closer until you’re pressed against each other and whispers, “Don’t think I do, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. “The tight-fitting, black—”

“That’s not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” he interrupts, and you shiver.

You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesn’t notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, “Those black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.”

He skims a hand up your back, “See? Was that so difficult?” he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. “And what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?”

“You know very well I couldn’t care less what fucking shoes you wear,” you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, “You mentioned some kind of deal?”

If he hadn’t brought it up again you’re not sure you would’ve remembered at all. You’ll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.

You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, “Well, I promise to wear the laciest panties I own—” you look at him sweetly through your lashes, “—if you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.” It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but it’s out. “With me, to me, you know. Whatever.” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, “Whatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.”

-

Joel’s made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the night’s only just beginning and you’re already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and he’s been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.

“You,” you reply, sweet and simple.

He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully — your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and you’re shifting your weight side to side.

He smiles softly and suggests, “Why don’t you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?” and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.

Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in — clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.

He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.

“Where’ve you been hiding these?” he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

“I, um… I’ve been saving them, for uh—“ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, “Do you not like them?”

He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, “I love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.” He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesn’t miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.

He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost can’t believe how you’ve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? You’d clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.

“So, whatever I want?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, “Yes.”

He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, “You okay?” and squeezes his hands.

“Yeah,” and you nod, smiling down at him.

“Well, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,” he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. “First, though, you’re gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? C’mon, on your knees.”

You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.

You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. “You been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.

“Fuck, baby, doin’ so good,” he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. “Think you can do it?”

You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. “Use your words, please.”

“Yes, I can do it.” You look up at him and his hold softens.

“Good girl, go on.”

You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. You’re breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.

“Bein’ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?” 

You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. “Almost too good,” he breathes, “know you’d love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.

“Stand up for me sweetheart,” and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass — any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.

“Soaked right through these pretty panties of yours,” he looks up to meet your gaze and there’s almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.

He smirks up at you, “So needy just from sucking my cock.”

Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.

“Always so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?” He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you can’t reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.

Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Taste so sweet.”

He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, “You gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?” and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.

You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.

You’re fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where he’s splitting you open. “You feel how stretched you are, baby?” You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips. 

“Open,” he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.

“You gonna come for me?” You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.

-

At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed — you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.

“Did good sweetheart, always do, but I’m not done with you.” His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice he’s still fully dressed — well, as fully dressed as he can be — and remember that’s what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.

Joel’s hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as it’s revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. “Look so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.”

He leans over you, breathing into your neck, “Always take my cock so well, baby.” He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard he’s bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.

All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. “You gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and you’re not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.

“Can you be good just a bit longer?” He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?” He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.

He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason you’re still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isn’t it? Being stuffed full of my cock?” He starts rambling on and you know he’s close. “You want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, please. Please come inside me.”

He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.

-

Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, you’re wrapped up in Joel’s arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel he’s cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. “Sweetheart, think we’ve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.” He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, “Now go back to sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

[bethanydelleman]

Ranking Jane Austen heroines/women on how good of a mother they’d be?

As with the men, I think they would all be good mothers, though in different ways.

Elizabeth Bennet: Soccer mom, she wasn't given the opportunity to have a structured education herself, it will be different for her kids. She's hiring the best governess she can find (after Darcy does a full background check), she's encouraging her kids to do extracurriculars, they will speak six languages that she doesn't understand or else! Has a minor panic attack if she says anything that sounds even remotely like something either of her parents would say.

Jane Bennet: Gentle mom, she cannot imagine punishing her children, she just has a killer disappointed face (she is unaware of this). Encourages her children to always try to understand both sides of the story. Will eventually fall for a lie one of her children tells and be devastated when she figures out the truth.

Anne Elliot: Perfect mother, there is indeed no one so proper, so capable as Anne. She has also watched her sister do everything wrong and she knows exactly how to do it right.

Emma Woodhouse: Scatterbrained mom, makes a resolution to teach her daughter fancy work but then gets distracted and the sampler is left half finished. Promised to read with her son but they only make it halfway through the novel. Good thing she hired an excellent "Miss Taylor" to pick up the slack! And despite her occasional screw-ups, her kids love her to pieces. They just better be on guard when they hit 18 and she starts trying to marry them off.

Marianne Dashwood: Crunchy mom, or whatever the Regency period equivalent would be. She wants her kids to feel the dead leaves between their toes, she encourages them to write poetry and play moving ballads. Otherwise, a lot like her own mother (they have very similar personalities)

Elinor Dashwood: I-Say-I-Love-You-With-Food Mom, she may not be exactly emotionally available, but she orders her daughter's favourite meal when she's sad and there are tiny hearts in the stiches of her son's clothes. She makes sure her kids are provided for, educated, and healthy. When she asks if they are hungry, they know she's saying, "I love you."

Fanny Price: Nurturing mom, she will be everything for those children that Edmund and William were to her, but nothing like Sir Thomas, Lady Bertram, Mrs. Norris or her own parents. She has a good deal of experience from nursing her own siblings so it's a pretty smooth beginning.

Catherine Morland: Overconfident mom, Catherine has been there and done that, she has six younger brothers and sisters after all, she's READY! This will be easy! All you have to do is make sure the baby is fed, washed, changed, and napped... oh... it's a lot harder to do this when you have only slept for 2.5 hours last night... (I know she would have servants, but still, being a new mother is tough!)

Bonus: Jane Fairfax tries to keep Frank from spoiling the kids, but it is literally impossible. He keeps buying them huge presents and then she would be the bad guy for saying no. Also, she knows that Frank lost their child in Kensington Gardens (twice), that's why she always insists he take a footman now.

Bonus bonus: Harriet Smith has a special box where she keeps all the 'treasures' her kids collect. It is her most precious possession.

#question response #jane austen #austen moms #emma #emma woodhouse #pride and prejudice #elizabeth bennet #jane bennet #sense and sensibility #marianne dashwood #elinor dashwood #persuasion #anne elliot #northanger abbey #catherine morland #mansfield park #fanny price #jane fairfax #harriet smith

[nearest-dearest]

Wally x reader "THEY TURNED ME DOWN (NOW LIVE MY NIGHTMARE)"

TW: HEAVY IMPLICATIONS OF CHILD NEGLECT

Inspired by the short film 'Opal' by Jack Stauber

Wally says this often, but today might be the most beautiful day he’s ever felt. How could it not be though? The sun is shining brightly bringing warmth to the neighbors with passing clouds to provide shelter to the neighbors when it gets too hot, complimented by the cooling spring breeze that passes by every so often. Indeed, this is another beautiful day in the neighborhood. Speaking of wonderful neighborhoods, Wally should probably check on you right now, after all, he did promise to teach you how to paint flowers with him today, and Wally would never dare break a promise to you. Wally took the fastest route to your house, though he would’ve liked it if you moved closer to the circle of neighborhood houses, but he also understands that you wanted your space from time to time, that’s just how you are and Wally finds it quite intriguing that you two felt the same way. Well, enough of that thought now, because Wally had just arrived at your front door.

Knock knock knock

“Neighbor? I’m here! Are you ready to start painting?” Wally left his art supplies back with Home, since you and him will be painting the flowers in Frank’s garden anyways, but he did bring you your own apron so you wouldn’t get paint all over your clothes, Wally is quite aware how beginners can get themselves stained with paint, and that’s great in Wally’s eyes, the sooner you make a mistake the sooner you can learn from them. Still, Wally wouldn’t want to get your clothes dirty, you make them yourself too and he wouldn’t want your hard work to get messy from this activity.

. . .

Silence.

Well, second time’s a charm.

“Neighbor? Are you there?” Wally knocks three times again. . .

Still no answer, and when he went to go for a third time. The door opened, with you peeking out of the small crack on the door.

Wally smiles when he sees you “Hi there neighbor.” But that smile dampens a little when he sees your frown and gray eyes.

“Why, darling are you okay?” Wally made it immediately known that he’s very very concerned, he never calls you by your pet name unless it’s an important circumstance, Wally wished he didn’t have to use it during a dire situation, but he wanted to offer you comfort. To let you know that he's there and everything's going to be okay.

"Oh, hey Wally. Sorry, I didn't manage to prepare in time for our painting lessons." Oh dear, even your voice sounded like it's drowning in rain.

Wally may have difficulty frowning, but he knows how to pull one off when he's really feeling down trotted. And right now, the corner of his lips went down to create a frown.

"Darling, is something bothering you?"

You gave a little laugh, but not because you found something funny "I guess I'm not really good at hiding this one huh? I suppose I ought to tell you. This day is coming whether I like it or not."

As if to show the full extent of your well-being. You finally stepped out of the house, leaving no door to block Wally from the full view of your face. And right away he could see tear stains painted down your cheeks. But before he could ask further about it, you produced a letter from your pocket. Then you proceeded to hand it over to Wally, and once you said who it's from it only made Wally more concerned for you.

"It's from my parents."

Wally looked up from the letter you gave to him. Your parents? You hardly ever talk about them, unlike Julie, who talks about her sisters endlessly. Any mention of your parents or any family members had you trying to change the topic with a hop, skip and a jump! Until everyone in the neighborhood understands that they'll never find out about your family. Until now that is, starting with telling Wally the truth. When Wally stayed silent, you took it as a chance to continue. You're going to do this whether you like it or not, right?

"I never really got along with them. My mother mostly spends her time in her room, drinking something that makes her dizzy. And my father looks at himself so much in the mirror that he barely notices when I'm there. And when he does notice, it's usually something about himself." You laughed your words off, but not because you find it funny and to be honest, Wally doesn't see any humor in it either.

"People turned them down, you know, now they lived their nightmares. . ." You repeated the sentiment your father would always say to describe himself and your mother. They just wanted to be seen by someone out there, wanted someone to take care of them. It just kills you inside that you couldn't be the daughter they needed in their time of needs. Instead of helping your parents, you ran away from them and hid in your room up in the attic. Hiding away from the knocking on your door. Until you finally had enough and chose to be a coward. Running away by escaping through your window and running as far away as possible. Anything to just get you away from that house and your parents. The people who had given you life.

. . . You really are a bad daughter.

You felt the wind knocked out of you when you felt someone tackle you wrapping their arms around you with a firm but gentle grip. Much akin to a loved one's hold to show their care and love. And when caught the familiar scent of apples, you knew that it could only be one person.

"Oh darling. . ." Wally gently said, never letting go of the hug. It's funny really, normally he'd have already gone limp, but he stood his ground instead and kept you in that hug "You're not a bad daughter, and your parents are to blame. Not you. It's not your fault that they are the way they are."

Then, tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You kept at bay for as long as you could, until it all came out in a choked sobs, you had said everything out loud and now Wally knows the disgusting truth about you and where you came from. 

"What do I do Wally? They're asking me to come back! But I don't want to go back! I want to stay here!" Your words came out wobbly and wet from tears and hiccups. Of course you knew it wasn't your fault that your parents are like that, but it's so damn hard when your parents make it sound like it's your problem too. And chide you and cry tears themselves until you accept that you were part of the problem. And for whatever reason, you believed them, because you had no one else to turn to for guidance in this thing called life.

"And you're not going back." Wally stated, pulling back a bit to land a small sweet peck to your forehead before pulling you back into the hug "You're staying here in the neighborhood, forever. . . Nothing will change that. I'll protect you, I promise okay darling?"

And as Wally's grip on the hug grew tighter but still very gentle, you find yourself believing in his words. Even if another part of you tells you to not be naive and vulnerable, the whole you would rather listen to Wally, the person who gave you what you had been searching for your whole life.

Wally repeated his promise again, sealing the deal one last time "I promise Darling. . . I will never let anything happen to you. . ."

And if Wally's face darkened at another glance at the letter from your parents, then that's for only him to know.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x you #wally darling my beloved #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #welcome home arg x reader #fanfic

[cantsayidont]

Summer 1977. While the Alex Schomburg cover might suggest that this is some kind of Golden Age reprint compilation, this was in fact an all-new full-length story. Created by Roy Thomas (initially with artist Frank Robbins, who also wrote many a Batman story in the 1960s and 1970s), THE INVADERS was set during WW2 and was intended to recapture the spirit and energy of the comics of that time. It starred a pre-deep-freeze Captain America, a younger Namor, the original Human Torch and Toro, and as many other old Timely characters as Roy could cram in. For this Annual, Thomas also arranged to hire several Golden Age artists who'd worked at Timely in the 1940, including Schomburg, Don Rico, and Lee Elias; each does a chapter, with Robbins doing the framing sequence.

Thomas gave these guest artists a script of singular ludicrousness. In fact, what happens in the Namor chapter is SO weird that I fear you will not believe me unless you see some excerpts for yourself.

To set the scene: Just prior to the following sequence, Namor had attempted to save a British freighter from a weird shark-shaped torpedo, only to have the torpedo administer a massive electric shock that knocked him unconscious. When he wakes up:

Who could it be who changed Namor's shorts while he was knocked out? And well you might ask!

The Shark is a Golden Age villain, albeit an extremely obscure one who didn't actually appear until after the war. (If you're curious, Thomas explains why elsewhere in the issue.) But why would this dastardly villain steal Namor's trunks (the only clothes Namor was wearing) while he was unconscious? Surely not for any of the awful reasons you may be thinking — this was a mainstream comic published in 1977, after all, and it DOES carry the Comics Code Authority seal on the cover, so it couldn't be TOO nefarious, could it? Fear not, as one thing one may reliably expect in any Roy Thomas superhero comic of this vintage is exposition. The villain explains:

Well, okay then! ("Pressure-resisting materials" indeed.)

I must regretfully now explain that the ACTUAL, IRL explanation for this bit of sartorial legerdemain is even more ridiculous. You see, the genesis of THE INVADERS was a story Roy Thomas had done when he was writing THE AVENGERS several years earlier. In THE AVENGERS #71 (December 1969), Kang the Conqueror had thrown some of the Avengers back in time to WW2 Paris, where they had briefly encountered the Captain America, Namor, and Human Torch of that time. This Annual was intended to bookend that earlier story. However, somewhere along the way Roy happened to notice, or recall, that in that 1969 Avengers story, artists Sal Buscema and Sam Grainger had inadvertently drawn the Sub-Mariner with trunks that were not consistent with the ones he was normally drawn with in the comics of 1941–1942! Horror!

Now, a reasonable person might simply assume that Namor owned more than one pair of trunks and rotated them occasionally, a solution Thomas later applied to explain why the Golden Age Hawkman's mask was so inconsistently drawn. Instead, we not only get this whole absurd plot about creating INVINCIBLE NAZI FROGMEN from Namor's SUPER-TRUNKS — which, to be clear, is intended to rationalize a very minor art discrepancy in exactly nine panels (10 if you count the cover) of a comic book published eight years earlier — Roy has the Shark call out the earlier art glitch in dialogue:

Was this all a private joke? Did Thomas and Sal Buscema have a good laugh about this? (I certainly hope so.)

I generally try to remain fairly po-faced in presenting this stuff, but I just can't do it with this one. This is quite possibly the silliest goddamn thing I've ever seen, and I have read a LOT of completely ridiculous comic books.

#comics #timely comics #the invaders #namor #submariner #human torch #captain america #roy thomas #alex schomburg #frank robbins #lee elias #frank springer #sal buscema

[impishtubist]

[I..........tried to write something for Sirius & Harry Saturday, and I ended up with Remus & Neville instead? I don’t know what this is, but I’m tossing it into the void anyway.] 

----

“Harry James.” Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing?”

“Lookin’ for skel’tons,” Harry said cheerfully, throwing a trowelful of mud over his shoulder and nearly hitting Remus in the knees with it. 

“Skeletons?” Remus repeated, momentarily distracted from the sight of his mud-covered child by the nonsensical answer. 

“Yeah!” Harry said. “Skel’tons under the dirt! I wanna find some!” 

Remus held back a sigh. This one was on him--he probably shouldn’t have taken the boys with him to the cemetery last week in his efforts to track down a pesky local ghoul. Harry had asked far too many questions about it afterward, which Remus had answered a bit too honestly. 

“You’re not going to find any skeletons in our backyard, sweetheart, and it’s almost dinnertime. Come on, we need to get you into the bath before Paddy sees you.” 

Harry pouted, but clambered out of the small mud-hole he had dug around himself and came trotting over to Remus. He grabbed one of Remus’s hands with his muddy one, and Remus stifled another sigh. 

“Pads!” he called out as he ushered Harry into the downstairs bathroom. “I’m--oh, hello.” 

Sirius was already kneeling by the tub, and he raised an eyebrow at them. “Go swimming in the mud, Harry?”

Remus huffed. “Your godson was trying to dig up skeletons.” 

Sirius snorted and went back to scrubbing Neville, who was covered in bright splotches of pink, green, and blue paint. “Yes, well, your godson got into the supply of magic-resistant paints.” 

“Have a good time, Nev?” Remus asked, and Neville nodded enthusiastically. 

“I painted the wall!” 

“Of course you did.” 

Remus stripped Harry out of his clothes and helped him into the bath, and then set about scrubbing him down. The faintly purple water soon turned brown, and Remus had to magically change the water every few minutes with a flick of his wand, until both boys were clean enough that the water remained clear. Satisfied that they were now in no danger of tracking mud or paint through the house, Sirius conjured up some toys for them to play with in the bath and Remus added some colorful bubbles. 

“Painted the wall, huh?” Remus asked, sitting back and watching the boys play. Sirius plopped down on the floor beside him. 

“It’s not half-bad, actually. I think we should leave it. Skeletons?”

“I…may have taken the boys to a cemetery last week. And explained what was under the headstones.” 

“So that’s why Neville’s had nightmares every night this week.” 

Remus grimaced. “Sort of crap at this, aren’t I?”

Harry had been living with them ever since that horrible Halloween night, but the attack on Frank and Alice was only a year and a half ago, and they were all still adjusting to being a family of four. Remus had no idea how to be a godfather, and Sirius made it look so easy with Harry. 

“Nah. Don’t say that, Rem.” Sirius knocked his knee against Remus’s. “Neville’s happy, isn’t he? That’s what counts.” 

“Paddy, look!” Harry cried. One of the toy boats was floating in the air a couple of inches from Harry’s outstretched fingers, and Sirius grinned and clapped his hands. Harry’s bouts of accidental magic were becoming less and less accidental these days--they were discovering, sometimes to their chagrin, that he actually had the ability to control his magic in small bursts. This one didn’t last for long, and the boat soon fell back into the water. 

“Excellent job, Hazza!” Sirius praised. “Now, what do you boys say to some dinner?”

They got the boys out of the tub, dried them off, and helped them dress in clean clothes. Harry immediately took off running for the kitchen, Sirius close behind him. Neville didn’t seem eager to follow, though, and Remus settled a hand on his head. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, and Neville shook his head. “Oh? What’s wrong, love?”

“Can’t do magic,” Neville mumbled, eyes downcast. Remus crouched in front of him, taking his godson’s small hands in his much larger ones and squeezing gently.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” he said. “It’s okay that you can’t do magic right now.” 

“Gran gets mad,” Neville muttered, and oh, Remus was going to have a little chat with Augusta the next time he dropped Neville off for Sunday tea. 

“Nev,” he said softly, “you are still very young. There is plenty of time for you to do magic. I didn’t start doing magic until I was eight, you know.” 

Neville looked at him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. And even if you never do magic, I’ll love you just the same.” Remus kissed his forehead and straightened. “Come on. I hear there’s treacle tart for dessert.” 

Neville visibly brightened at that, and he tucked his hand into Remus’s as they left the bathroom.

#today my brain whispered to me #what if sirius was harry's godfather and remus was neville's godfather #and i always listen to my brain #imp is writing #good godfather remus lupin #good godfather sirius black #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #harry potter #neville longbottom

[inkandpaintleopard]

Dude do not get me STARTED on the Soft boys

I get that their purpose is to serve as a little breather (until Monster, anyway), but I feel like there could have been more done with that? Like dude this is one of the few mods that even ALLUDES to Frank, it would have been really unique (especially for the time) if Ben and Pico actually got to meet him; it'd even fit into the story because they're trying to go somewhere and "Frank lets us ride in his van all the time, we will ask him for you!"

Also I have just found out that Father Fairest's first name is actually Frank so uh. That could be fun (/s) for Ben

(also I feel like whatever SM Frank is doing in this universe he'd sympathize with both Ben's and Pico's plights, but that's besides the point)

Also just. I say this with a heavy heart but I do not like their designs. I get what they were going for but it feels... kind of cluttered? I think they would have looked better without their costumes on, give Pump some face stickers too to make up him not having spots

If anything I feel like leaning into that "creative" angle would have made for better designs, show them covered in paint and glitter or something because they're trying to make things, maybe even a little dirt because they love to explore just as much as the OG Spookeez, but their clothes show stains way more because they're not pure black

OH AND ON THAT-

It's just kind of a personal gripe but I wish their colors were closer to the originals too. Ben, Pico, and Grace all have the same color schemes as their original counterparts, just muted/pastel with a few changes, but instead of pastel purples and oranges Skid and Pump have completely different colors. I do like how the color of Skid's clothes mirror Pump and vice versa, but it's just weird looking at those three and then these two

Also again a minor gripe in the grand scheme of things but instead of removing the mic entirely they should have had a toy microphone, it still fits with their theme AND the context that they like Father Fairest's music

Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, I get all that… before I even played the mod I just thought “Well their designs need work but hopefully their character is good.” Like dude they don’t even get an original song. I like the way they’re introduced but other than that they have nothing going for them.

I hadn’t even considered the whole Frank thing, that would’ve been nice.

I have such weird opinions on their designs; I think my biggest issue with them is that they don’t seem coherent. Why would Pump wear blue? Why do they look like they’re wearing jumpsuits? Are they? Why would they be? And yeah how are they that clean? And where’s the spookyness in it? I think about this for a lot of Skid designs specifically, because I feel like you wouldn’t know he was a skeleton if you didn’t already know what he came from, which is fine for all of us, but I feel like it doesn’t make sense in universe.

I was planning on redesigning them when I finally played the mod, but every time I think about redesigning/stylizing a character, I realize it goes against the way I come up with stories and stuff. For the Soft Spookeez specifically, every bit of dislike I may have for them gets added to whatever story I have in mind. Like oh, one finds their appearance underwhelming and annoying? So does every other Skid and Pump. I can’t get any personality from them? Their character is now that they have no character; everyone else is baffled that they came out of the Soft mod and are completely trauma-free. So on and so forth, help I don’t remember how to stylize.

Wait yeah them having a toy mic would be nice; I find them feeling weirdly detached without it.

#One day while I was archive-digging I found a redesign #Might go looking for it again #friday night funkin #fnf #fnf mods #fnf soft mod #skid and pump #spooky month skid #spooky month pump #sm skid #sm pump #spooky month #crossover-enthusiast

[camilos-mivida]

Surprises Surprises

Pairing with Camilo Madrigal and Female (could be gender neutral!) Reader

Read more of my Camilo Madrigal fictions in this masterlist

The sun shined in the skies of Encanto, a beautiful day was getting ahead of you as it is the day of your birthday! You have passed another year of your life, alive! A year passed, full of adventure, family, chores, friends and love!

They had been preparing the stuffs to be prepared and arranged for your birthday ever since last week with the advisory of Camilo Madrigal, making sure that his beloved's birthday would be an absolute fun and perfect one, his goal for every birthday you'll have.

The Madrigals understood Camilo's please for them to make you a memorable birthday, but sure they do admit that Camilo could be too much sometimes and it's tiring them, but since it's their beloved Camilo, it's the best they could do for him.

With the occasion of your birthday occurring today, everyone's schedule is tightly planned as it was prepared and made my Camilo. Despite him being frank in preparing your birthday, you always don't have an idea on what he was doing, and of course it's because he had also planned that.

There was this one time where Carlos had to be with you for an enternal day but was soon recovered with the surprise they held for you. Or the time when Isabela almost ran out of floral and garden facts to tell you just to keep you away from their put up planning for your birthday.

Waking up under the covers but finding the bed empty yet still warm with Camilo's heat.

“Camilo, amor? Where are you, cariño?” You yawned as you sat up and looking around the room.

You heared some steps with some muttered complaints behind the door. Camilo walks towards the bedroom with a breakfast tray that he woke up early to prepare with the help of his tía.

“Coming! I may.. take a little longer to get there.. heh.” Camilo chuckles nervously and you smiled as you hear Camilo's laughter.

Camilo struggles to open the door, you got up to see what’s going on because they have been confused. You looked at Camilo with amusement and adoration.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday mi beloved Y/n, Happy Birthday to youuu" Camilo sang and made you blow the candle that was on top of your favorite food.

“Aww, is this for me?” You asked, feeling your heart melt.

Camilo’s hands are lightly trembling as he placed down the tray. “Do you… like it?” he asked, with hope in his eyes.

“I love it! almost as much as I love you.” You said with a chuckle.

Camilo smiles and then pouts lightly. “But you love me most, right?”

“Obviously, cariño” the grin never left your face as you set yourself back on the bed.

Camilo watched you gladly as you happily ate what he made just for you.

"What do you want to do today, mi vida?" Camilo asked you while you were eating.

You shrugged. "I don't know, maybe spend some time with Antonio while we wait for your surprise" you sarcastically suggested with a wide grin on your face.

"Ay, amor, why are you spoiling yourself" Camilo pouted. Camilo stared at the ground, thinking of what should he say next, now that you knew his plan, I mean if you were her, you would also see this coming.

"So carin-"

"You-can-just-jump-out-of-the-window-later-casita-will-catch-you-and-Antonio-will-be-there" Camilo rapidly spoke as he was rushing not to spoil you even more, he pecked you on your cheek before running to the door and accidentally slamming it hard.

"Sorry!"

You finished changing your clothes after you ate your breakfast. Soon, a lovely dovey two birds flew inside the room with a magnificent arrangement of flowers as a crown of you to wear for your special day! All thanks to Isabela, she gave all her best making it for you.

You walked to the balcony and saw Antonio and his friends, sitting on the ground, most probably waiting for you. Parce saw you and told Antonio as all of them glanced up from Camilo's room.

"Feliz Cumpleaños Y/n!!!" Antonio greeted you and so does his friends.

"Thank you! I'll be down with you in a minute" You told him and did your final touches before exiting his room. Isabela and Mirabel were outside the room to greet you. 

"Happy Birthday!"

"Feliz Cumpleaños! You look great Y/n" Isabela complimented you and added more flowers to your head and dress.

"Antonio is waiting for you outside" Mirabel told you. "Oh and here's my gift for you" Mirabel smiled as she gave you a box with a lovely floral bow.

"And it matches your clothes!" Mirabel said as she saw you beamed up with her handmade jewelry.

"Thank you very much!! Gracias!" You hugged the both of them before wearing the gifted jewelry. You headed down and was greeted by Pepa and Félix greeting you before you went to Antonio.

"So what's your hermanos plan this time?" You let out a small laugh knowing very well that Antonio knows a lot but wouldn't tell you.

"Oh Y/n, you have no idea what he prepared this time" Antonio told you, making it sound so unbelievable.

"Should I be scared?"

"Nah, I'll think it'll be the opposite"

Antonio and you almost spent the day together, it was fine though! You got to know each other, ate together and even made jokes! Now that the distraction is over it's time for the real surprise that Camilo had prepared all weeeeek.

"It is time" he mumbled, standing infront of the casa with the set party behind him, ready to pick you up for this wondrous surprise.

Happy Birthday to mi beloved @impuse-cake !!!!! Hope you enjoyed your day! Wishing you all the best in life and take this fiction as my gift for you! Happy Birthday and welcome to a new year of your life!!!! Yeeyyy!!🥳🎉🪅🎊

(I was gonna post this earlier but I fell asleep heh)

Hello! Do correct me for my mistakes and do tell me what you think of this! Thank you for reading and have a beautiful week!!! Xx

#encanto #camilo madrigal #encanto fanfic #camilo encanto #camilo fanfic #camilo madrigal x reader #encanto camilo #camilo madrigal x gender neutral reader #camilo madrigal x female reader #camilo madrigal x y/n #camilo madrigal imagine #camilo madrigal fic #camilo my beloved #camilo supremacy #camilo x you #camilo fluff #camilo x reader #camilo imagine #camilo #encanto x reader #encanto fics #encanto fic #camilo x y/n #Surprises Surprises

[scarletooyoroi]

"It isn't often to see people seeking out Aaru Village who aren't desert fold or aren't up for no good, I'll give that to ya." Though Thoma looks like a good fella, Candace's concern that he may have ulterior motives for being here is completely valid and understandable. Reason why upon further deliberation she asked Dehya to do her the favor of giving the Inazuman man a tour around the village, to test the waters and confirm or prove wrong her suspicions. "I've heard a thing or two about Inazuma. Hard not to when things had been complicated, right? I take that you being in Sumeru means that the travelling restrictions were lifted?"

There is nothing that isn't genuine and heartfelt curiosity to learn more but also from a personal perspective to see what this guy is about. Everyone who steps a foot in Aaru Village is for a reason, most of the visitors know their business. What about him? In their walk they find a young kid sitting on a carpet outside wearing ragged clothes and reading a book that must've seen better days. Her light blue, sharp eyes narrow at the poor sight. "...I wonder if the hardship Inazuma faced these past years can be comparable to the hardships of us desert folk. Being closed while being guaranteed a decent life doesn't sound half bad."

Just hearing about Inazuma within this moment leads him to a slew of heavy thoughts. Pleasant, but as of the most recent days, difficult, the kind of heaviness that only a taste of life within Teyvat in large could truly sort out.

Any ends of their more amiable part of the conversation finds itself edging down to a more focused calm. For the endless vitality in terms of people, the arts and might it could cultivate, there was a share of glaring wounds also gained and endured as a price.

Lightning flashes. Cutting through all and only allowing those that can rise above to be worthy. A cruel form of beauty.

"You're correct." His voice matches before looking over the mercenary. Just the sight of her vigor compels him to draw from his pool of calm as the oasis known as Aaru now being crossed. Even then, a more perceptive eye could show that despite the changes, struggle remains an underlying current to balance with success. Each step found themselves curious as much as they did thoughtful, accepting the situation with firm eyes that couldn't cast away their softness. Gripping at his cloak to keep it settled proper, Thoma's eyes would focus ahead once more.

As they find themselves situated underneath a small series of trees, giving them prize witness to the boons of Ajilenakh Nuts, he nearly pauses at the curious note that's drawn in the verbal sand. "....Dehya." His voice sounds strained at the notion, when in truth, just picturing the pain of others, witnessing it firsthand despite their vigor allowing them to claw through it by any means, it just hurts.

Within Thoma's eyes, there was no glory or graces to be found in pain like this.

"I'm afraid it's not that easy. Despite the change in scenery, culture and life, there's a cruel lining that stays adamant in persisting." Try as he might, the bitterness of being a firsthand witness, active in the waged war between Watatsumi and Inazuma's mainlands, over those who don Visions, it was a conflict that nurtures strife, newly made young without parents, the chaos that allows a heinous poison to settle with acidic, burning edges within.

"People get hurt, some can manage to fight against it, others are unfortunate to not get those particular means.. Suffering as a result." Licking at his dried lips, it's clear a more sensitive topic was broached to the traveling warrior, the sort that has him looking with a singular eye towards the past, one kept in the present.

"You've caught wind of the decrees I imagine, to be frank, there was a war that cost many their lives. No short thanks to the remnants of a god being used as part of a war effort.. and advantage for other dangerous powers, on top of the earlier made strife." Stepping over to a nearby edge, he's facing away for a moment, more focused on just.. processing it all.

"There are no comparisons when it comes to facing some form of Hell. I wouldn't want to dishonor those that even now, could be going through something we can't even imagine."

@mantichorae

#mantichorae #| Tucked Letters #oh ow

[dzpenumbra]

11/25/22

Today was a mixed bag. I finally caught up on sleep. Finally, after like a week. I started my day, got the cat food and decided "fuck it, I'm going to smoke today. It's Thanksgiving, I'm alone and packing all day, I might as well unwind a bit." I got a good shower in, did laundry all day, started a new Rimworld playthrough and worked on my hoodie and packed most of my food stuff from the kitchen.

There isn't a ton of stuff left to pack. Mostly kitchen stuff, bathroom stuff, clothes, art supplies/tools and my computer. I'm not sure if it's gonna be one drive worth, might be two, but it's going well. I can feel the gears getting close to the next tick.

While cleaning out my cabinets, I was reminded by 11 tubs of shisha that I used to smoke tobacco. I have been nicotine-free for over a year (I quit early November last year). This shisha is worth probably... I'd say over $150 total. And it's all still good too, it's made with molasses and really doesn't lose a lot of flavor or quality over time too much. I mean, after several years... probably... but I've smoked shisha after a year in a sealed container and it's been totally fine. So... me, in my infinite wisdom, thought to offer this tobacco to the only person I can think of that smokes that might appreciate it. My brother.

This was a mistake. I don't really feel comfortable getting into it any more than that, but... I'm realizing certain patterns in how some people address unexpected reconnections. This pattern is one of skepticism. Asking questions, which quickly morph into rhetorical questions, which morph into answering their own questions, which transitions into "let me tell you what's going on", which quickly arcs over to "here are your options". Which is, to be frank, far from a conversation. It's kind of an ultimatum. It's control, really. Taking control of an unexpected or unknown situation, rather than seeking further clarification.

I'm shaking a bit right now, because the conversation continued at the end of the last paragraph. I'm not exaggerating, my hands are trembling, like I'm shivering, and I feel weak. And I'm starting to learn that this is a trauma response. And in the future, when I start feeling this way - or in the present, when I start feeling this way - I need to walk away from the dangerous situation I'm in and go cuddle my cat and eat some ice cream or something.

I deserve to be around people who appreciate me. Who don't scrutinize every word and action I take deliberately looking for the "trick" or "trap", and then having to suffer the full brunt of someone else's anxious retaliation. I have suffered this more times than I can count. Being the victim of a tortured soul swinging at ghosts of past abusive relationships, past pains, past horrors. Past, of course, being the important word there. It has taken me decades to truly believe this - and may every heavenly deity from every faith ever bless my social worker for helping me fully integrate this - these things I am being accused of. These situations are not. my. fault. And I. deserve. better.

I'm starting to edit, so I'm going to change the topic. I feel foolish for trying to be charitable and forgiving towards family. Which is such a conflicting feeling. Trying to forgive and be kind to those who have been controlling and manipulative to me... like... why the fuck am I so drawn to it? I just... want to be a good person, you know? I just want to be a good guy who can help inspire people to move forward. To get unstuck. Like... this whole control thing just comes from fear usually. At least as a trauma response, its like... responding to fears of being taken control of... then overcompensating by taking control of the other person. At least most of the time, from what I've seen. So my dumb ass brain just goes "yo, if you're really nice and not a threat to them, they'll feel safe and they won't be controlling and everything will go back where it was 10 years ago". NOPE. Big old fuckin nope it won't. I don't think that has ever actually worked, like maybe once or twice has that ever been effective and it has never had a lasting effect. Why? Well... because the other person has a primary defensive mechanism that they are not working on that is "I need to control this before it hurts me". And just because this fluke moment reassured them that a threat wasn't immanent... doesn't mean that reflex isn't primed to strike at any moment, over any thing. It's a hair trigger defense system that is notorious for misfiring. I've often made the analogy of these people being like night watchmen on a castle wall with 50 caliber machineguns just hosing down the forest every time they hear a twig crack. This policy of "shoot first", "control first", "blame first", ask questions later... it does not change. It has no need to change. And most importantly, it is not mine to change. Ideally, they would install a floodlight and try to gather information on what is cracking the twigs, before raining buckets of hot lead into the darkness. But again, I can't sneak up onto the battlements and install one. I can't sneak up there and leave a note saying "I will be walking by in the forest at 2:16AM, 50 yards from the wall, please do not shoot me." These will also be seen as signs of manipulation. You can't reason with those who are convinced the world is out to get them. Trust me, I'm one of them, and I'm trying so fucking hard to recover.

Now it's 1AM. I want to pack up my bathroom stuff before bed. This was a nasty taste to leave in my mouth after a big day. And part of me wishes I didn't reach out. Part of me wishes I wasn't so generous to those who haven't "earned" it, and who abuse my generosity, who abuse my forgiveness and trust. But part of me feels like it's the right thing to do. For the shisha. XD I am not even fucking kidding, I'm legit saying this and honestly believe it. I think the shisha deserves to be appreciated. I don't think it deserves to go in the trash. And I'm not going to smoke it in the new apartment, I'm just not going to. So... what options do I have? Do I try to give it to a stranger up at the new apartment? "Hey person I've never met, would you like 11 tubs of year-old shisha? To smoke in a building you can't smoke in?" Doesn't seem smart. And I don't know anyone left in this town. So... yeah. I wish I was kidding, but I legit was willing to reach out to one of the people that hurt me most in the world, in my entire life, to offer him a "peace offering" (which I later rephrased as "cease fire" as in "please stop accusing me of being a bad person and barking orders at me") in order to get 11 tubs of flavored tobacco a home where they would be appreciated.

Would it be better if I just threw it out next time? I honestly don't know anymore. It seemed like a great idea at the time, a win-win-win all around, and now my heart just aches. And I feel really sad and hopeless, depressed. Tragedy, is really the only word coming to mind on repeat. So... I guess we just keep marching. Maybe more packing, but it's 1AM now because I was sitting here fucking waiting for his ass to stop playing fucking video games on Thanksgiving and respond to simple Discord messages. Okay, I'm a bit upset now. I worked really hard to reset my sleep schedule, now it's just slipping right back again.

Ugh. Deep breath. I'm just going to say this. I. Cannot. Fucking. WAIT. Until I get to have friendships that breathe life into me. That aren't controlling and draining and taking and sucking the life out of me. I cannot wait until I have any form of relationship where the person actually, genuinely cares how my day was, actually appreciates the gestures that I put forth unsolicited. Where we amplify each other, resonate. Healthy relationships. I'm very excited, I hope it's soon. I have so much to share!

As much as this has been a catastrophic, heart-wrenching end to the day, it has been a pretty good day overall. And I really can't let the pains of a Sith drain me. I deserve better, and if others won't respect me, I need to at very least respect myself enough to get out of situations like that. I have always sucked at walking away, I feel like I'm abandoning or giving up. But... yeah. That's a block for me. So I need to address that in the future.

Sorry for the doom and gloom. Move is almost done, I hope to be up in the new place by the start of the next week, maybe even over the weekend. I just have some deliveries coming this weekend (art supplies, a painting I ordered for the new apartment) and I kinda want to be around for that. We'll see how it goes. Here's to building more positivity in the world, even if it means walking away, I guess.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

[woodmamtoys]

How to bridge the generation gap with children-Woodmam

　　Author: Both sides have such a desire, so why can't we bridge the generation gap? The main reason is that both sides have their own perspective on things, right? 　　Child: Yes. 　　Author: Both have their own perspective, and both may not understand the perspective of others. I am of the same generation as your parents, and I do the work of parents first. I think the main problem should come from our parents. There is an old Chinese saying, "What you don't want, don't do to others. That is, you do not want to do things yourself, unhappy things, do not impose on others. For example, if you don't want others to restrict you, don't restrict them too much; if you don't want others to not understand you, don't not understand them; if you don't want to listen to others' nagging, don't nag them either. The same goes for your children. If you don't want to do something yourself, don't force it on them in the first place. If you don't like to listen to nagging, don't nag your child; if you don't like to listen to counting, don't count your child; if you don't like to listen to reprimand, don't reprimand your child; if you would like to see a smiling face, then you should treat your child with a smiling face. 　　Specifically to your skit, the difference in opinion, in fact, the problems between your parents and you, involving differences in all aspects of life, learning, life, and society, is this right? It is entirely possible to have a difference in opinion about a work of literature, a television, a life phenomenon, a costume, a music, is that right? 　　Child: Yes. 　　Author: My opinion is that parents should not ask their children to think the same way as they do, and children do not necessarily ask their parents to think the same way as they do. For example, what clothes you want to wear and what he wants to wear, what music you want to listen to and what music he wants to listen to, do not force each other, but each other to understand the reasonableness of each other's thinking, you say? 　　Child: Right. 　　Author: I have a little hope for parents, sometimes you put your original thinking down a little and look at the problem from a different perspective. Why? The child has a child's perspective, right? 　　Child: Yes. 　　Author: So, I'm particularly interested in what you think about your life now. 　　Child: What do you think about the future? 　　Author: Right. 　　Children: I just ...... single-mindedly ...... want to get into the film business in the future. 　　Author: Any other hopes for your parents? 　　Children: The hope for my parents is that they live a better and healthier life in the future, but too much worry and too many demands on me are unnecessary. 　　Author: I agree with you. What else? 　　Child: There is more, there is more, I think ...... is gone. 　　Author: I think Ma Yuan is very frank and very accurate description of the problem. Today I hope that on this occasion, Ma Yuan's mother will undergo a more radical change in her thinking. You may be very worried about your child, very hung up on him, but your worrying may instead make him feel uncomfortable, not understood, and find it difficult to have a dialogue. 　　I hope that from today onwards, you will mainly find ways to enter your child's mind, understand your child's thoughts, understand your child's mental state, and can increase the dialogue with your child as an equal. Don't be too trivial with your child. If you can find a good way to inspire your child to improve himself, then you use the inspired method. Until you find a way, this is a simple question, and I hope you will listen to what your child has to say. 　　For a sophomore boy to think this way, it's long past time for a mother to have understanding and appreciation. Understand the child's whole set of views on life, including his own efforts for the future and the pursuit of hobbies. There should be enough support in this regard. For now, Ma Yuan's parents should have a better understanding of their children later on, especially if they understand what there is in their children that you should appreciate him and appreciate him. What ideas your child has that are different, that are cute, that are to be supported.

[iovchlde]

hi!! may i request some reverse comfort headcanons for diluc, kaeya, childe, and xiao? maybe about relationship insecurity or something of that sort??

relationship flaws and insecurities.

no one is perfect— so what exactly are their flaws in a relationship? and what do they feel most conscious of in a relationship?

featuring diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao

diluc

he feels that he might scare you off with his overprotectiveness. he’s already lost someone before, and he doesn’t think he can handle losing you either.

it’s not that he wants to control your life— in fact, he wants you to live it to its full extent. but there’s always that small worry, an annoying voice, in the back of his head that reminds him that the wilderness of teyvat is dangerous.

subconsciously, he may find himself interrogating you if you plan on leaving the house early in the morning, or late at night. there’ll be times where small quarrels stem from this, and inevitably it can get heated sometimes.

if you walk out on him for more hours than what feels comfortable, to cool off, he might start to think if you’ve left him for good.

diluc’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and there’s a consistent tapping on the floor as he anxiously drums his foot against it. it’s way past his assigned time to sleep, knowing he has to be up early to run his business. he doesn’t have half the mind to check what time it is, at least, not right now. all he can think about is that you’ve been gone for way too long.

he expects this from the two of you, especially after a heated argument. you two take the time away from one another to cool off and collect your thoughts, but this? this is just outrageous. if he were to give an estimate for how long you’d been gone— it would be two hours longer than you’d typically be gone for. and this just feeds into his worries from earlier, about your well-being.

the whole fight was about you and your safety after all. you would tell him that you’re fully capable of looking out for yourself; he’d say that he has enemies who may come after you; it goes back-and-forth. sensing that the argument was getting nowhere, you took it upon yourself to see yourself out first. “let’s just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “let’s just take time to cool off for a bit, shall we?”

“it’s been longer than a bit,” he mutters to himself.

he’s snapped out his thoughts as he hears the bedroom doors open slowly. you peek your head in, just to make eye contact with diluc. you two freeze, simply caught off-guard in the moment. he notes how your hair is a mess— it sticks out in certain areas, and obviously has not been brushed down— and you look a bit rugged. “hey,” you mutter sheepishly.

he wonders if he should ask you where you’ve been, but he holds his tongue. “are you okay?” diluc asks instead, and there’s a certain tenderness in his voice as he addresses you. “you look a bit... rough.”

you snort, throwing a feign hand of offense over your chest, at his words. “gee, thanks. nice to know i’m looking very appealing right now.” you joke. he stares at you, but you can see the faint smile on his lips at the way you’re joking around already. it’s good to know that you two are still okay. “but to answer your question, yes. i simply tripped over a pebble— it was so dark out and my foot got caught. who would’ve known that a pebble would be the one to take me down.”

he laughs at this, and you feel the tension from the argument completely lift.

kaeya

he’ll often wonder if you’re slowly becoming untrusting of him. he’s generally reserved, and quite mysterious— and it could easily be read in the wrong way.

kaeya knows that a relationship is all about communication and trust, well, for it to be healthy at least. and for the most part, he’s pretty open with you.

but there’s still certain aspects of his life that keeps in the dark from you. from his unknown past, to the business he does out of the knight of favonius— he likes that you look up to him as a respectable knight.

sometimes, you’ll ask him why he has duties to attend to at the dead of night, to which he reassuringly tells you that he’s simply off to bother diluc at the tavern. but he knows you’re catching on— diluc hasn’t seen him in the tavern for quite a bit.

“i know you haven’t been at the tavern.” you finally speak up, and you keep your eyes trained on the plate of food in front of you. you dig at the food, poking it around with your utensils— anything to keep your mind off of the fact that your heart is slightly racing right now. you don’t mean to be confrontational, but to be frank, you’re fed up that kaeya hasn’t been honest with you. “you can say that it came as a surprise to me when diluc said you hadn’t been there for a while now.”

“i guess it was only a matter of time before you’d ask diluc about me, and my whereabouts.” he sighs. he’s leaned into his chair by now, and he’s looking at you. your lips are locked into a tight line, a little peeved at the way he still talks so smoothly, and treats this so casually. as if he weren’t taking this seriously, and that this was just some other conversation to him. “i’m simply handling nightly duties.”

your grip becomes slightly tighter around your utensils, and he notices; your knuckles are turning slightly white, and your breathing is slightly out of pace. there’s a small change in his expression, and you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly.

“does it hurt to be honest to me about these things?” you ask him, genuinely hurt at the way it feels like he doesn’t trust you enough. “as your significant other, i guess i’d expected you to be more open to me. i’ve already told you countless times that no matter what, i’ll stick around— and even right now, i mean those words.”

once i tell, there’s no going back, is what he wishes to say. that it’ll be hard to look at someone the same way you’ve done before. “look,” he says as he sighs. kaeya wracks his mind for a way to respond— in a way where he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t subject you to danger either. “these matters, my nightly duties if you will, are matters between the abyss order and i. i’m afraid that if i tell you anything more about what goes on, you’ll become a target as well. too much knowledge can be harmful.”

“and you couldn’t just tell me that from the get-go?” it’s a fair point, and he throws you an apologetic look from across the table. “i understand, okay? just,” you swipe a hand through your hair. “no more secrets. i don’t think i’ll be as understanding if there’s a next time.”

“of course, my love.”

childe

he fears that one day, he’ll come home and you won’t be there anymore; his involvement with the fatui doesn’t make it any better.

the fatui is known for... it’s notorious deeds, to put it lightly. he had warned you beforehand, that dating a fatui harbinger will be exhausting. mentally, that is.

he’s bloodthirsty and thrill-seeking— it’s his nature. but he knows you don’t agree with the brutal ways the fatui handles their business, and he tries his best to take your mind off of it.

but it’s hard to ignore the words that circulate around liyue about certain things that he’s been up to. childe wonders that if you’ll get fed up one day, and just leave him.

there’s always a small amount of anxiety that bubbles up within childe whenever he approaches the doors of your shared bedroom. there’s that slightly irrational fear that he’ll walk in, and the room will be empty; you won’t be beneath the sheets in deep sleep, and your small breaths wouldn’t fill the room. his hand is hovering over the doorknob, and he almost laughs. a man like him, who stares death in its eyes, too afraid to open the door in fear that he’ll see something he doesn’t like.

childe gathers the courage to twist the knob, and the door creaks softly as he pushes it open. he pauses halfway, the fear taking over him for a second, but pushes through. he lets out an audible breath of relief— seeing you alive and well in front of him, and the comforts of just seeing that. his shoulders slack visibly at the confirmation, and he allows himself to enter the room.

he strips himself of clothes that he’s worn outside, changing into ones more fitting for bed. he’d jump straight into your arms if he could— but he knows that even in a sleepy state, you would still scold him.

he stalks towards the bed after doing the necessities. you stir at the way the bed dips beside you, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around you. “childe?” you mutter. your voice is laced with sleepiness having just awoken, and you’re rubbing at your eyes as you turn to face him. it takes a second for your brain to start functioning, and you blurt out the first word that comes to mind. “hi.”

“hi to you too,” he mirrors, a small smile gracing his lips. your eyes are barely open as you glance at him, and your words are slightly slurred— but despite that, he truly thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world that he has someone as good as you. someone who sticks around, despite his affiliation. “i’ve missed you a lot, y’know.” he says.

“i missed you more,” you challenge, even in your sleep driven state.

he chuckles at you, before pressing a small kiss to your nose. “sure, sure. let’s fight about who misses each other more in the morning, okay?”

xiao

he’ll often doubt why you’re with him— and wonder if there’ll ever be a day where you run out of patience with him.

he’s getting better with affection, and he’s not finding it as weird as he had before. he doesn’t initiate things, still too embarrassed about the last time he failed to hug you. he wants things to be intimate, but there are still times where he flinches if you touch his hand or hug him, after forgetting to give him a heads up.

you always smile at him, and tell him that you care for his comfort the most. he can see the pain behind your smile though— almost a year of dating and he still hasn’t warmed up to you.

xiao still doesn’t fully understand the logic and need behind affection. but what he does know is that humans seek affection. they are social beings after all. knowing that, he worries that you’ll eventually want someone else who can give you the affection that you deserve.

“i’m sorry,” xiao apologizes in a panic. he was so thrown off-guard and so deep in his thought, that when you’d given him a back hug, he had reacted more violently than intended. thus, he had instinctively pushed you off his shoulder. it was hard to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes as you stumbled back, a little baffled, not expecting xiao to react in a such a way. “i... i apologize for that, y/n.”

it’s easy to notice the literal distance between you two and he reaches out for you, to which he stops himself midway. there’s just something that feels so wrong about touching you right now, especially after he’d just shoved you— it doesn’t feel right. even to now, he’s still scared of touching you. he finds himself getting frustrated at the way that he just can’t wrap his head around doing things in a romantic aspect. even he’s running out of patience with himself, so why do you still have so much?

you notice the way his hand stops, and you can see the countless of emotions within his eyes as he stares at his hands. there’s little glimpses of worry, of self-doubt, and you can tell right now that he’s being critical of himself. you don’t blame him for reacting that way, now that you look back on it in hindsight. anyone would’ve reacted like that as a form of self-defense.

“it’s alright, xiao, it really is.” you reassure him. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay? i said we’d take it as slow as we have to, and i plan on keeping my word for that. now... may i?” you gesture to his outstretched hand. he gives you a blank look at first, but nods slowly.

you take his hands in yours— you take your time to link your fingers, intertwining them and appreciating the way they mold together perfectly. you let him feel the way you draw soothing circles on the back of his hand. it’s such a simple action, but it flows with intimacy, and it has a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. (butterflies, he recalls you telling him.)

“see this?” you raise your linked hands. “if this is what you’re comfortable with at the moment, then i’m more than willing to hold hands for as long as you want.”

he wonders if you’ll grow impatient with him— but for now, he’s reassured you’ll stick around.

author’s note.

i’ve put this off for so long, and i intended on keeping it short— but then i felt bad and so i decided to indulge just a little

#genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin diluc #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin childe #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader

[fruggo]

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

~~

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

~~

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

~~

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

#:) i kinda rly like this ahaha it was fun #i hope it’s okay <3 #fruggo writes #requests #enemies to lovers prompt #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #the legion x reader #the legion #dbd x reader #dbd oneshot #dbd writing #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd frank

[celestialspecial]

The Sin of Desire (Pt 9)

Werewolf!BillyRusso x Female Reader

Warnings:  Violence, Graphic Descriptions, 18+ spicy content etc.

Waking up in your arms, Billy was convinced was the only thing that had ever felt soothing to him. He never knew what actual restful sleep was until you. You both rushed to get changed and ready for work, jumping into his car, thankfully Billy lived fairly close to the office. Pulling into the parking garage you leaned over and kissed him once more.

“See you up there.” You said, letting your fingers trace over his eyebrow briefly. No one knew you two were dating, at least that you were aware of. Billy hadn’t truly cared but you thought that it was too soon to share it wholly with the world, plus you enjoyed having the little secret. That was before this other, much more sizeable secret that Billy was carrying.

He watched you jump out and planned to wait five minutes before following up the elevator, into the lobby and venturing into whatever meetings were planned for the day. That was until his phone beeped.

“May have a lead. Get back to me ASAP.” Frank. Billy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe he wasn’t going into work today.

“Where are you?” Billy typed back. Frank sent an address and within the next five minutes Billy was driving to meet his friend instead of following you inside.

After about 20 minutes of driving and following winding side roads and obscure alleyways he finally turned onto a lot just outside an abandoned factory. This was Frank’s style. Discreet, easy to escape from and on his own terms. Billy parked the car towards the back by a large dumpster, before getting out to survey the area. It was quiet, the hum of the city still remained but it was blunted, somehow more muffled. He could only assume Frank was inside. Patting his back pocket where his concealed weapon was Billy began walking towards the old factory in front of him.

It was cold and damp. The warm breeze off the water didn’t touch here. Each footstep echoed loudly in the stairwell and amplified ten-fold as he got off on one of the many floors. He could sense Frank, smell him from miles away, and Frank could do the same. There was another scent too, familiar as well. Turning around a corner Billy was greeted by his two friends, Frank and Curtis.

“Long time no see.” Billy smiled at the two. More directed at Curtis who he truly hadn’t seen in a long while. Frank, he made a point of running into at least once a month.

“You look well.” Curtis mused, playfulness glinting in his eyes. “Domestic bliss taken over?” Billy knew they could both smell you on his clothes. The scent always lingered after you two would spend a long night together. It was partially what got him through most days. Frank smirked at him, but it didn’t fully meet his eyes. He knew Billy was enthralled with you, but  there was the problem- the whole reason the three of them were here right now.

“You have news for me?” Billy asked, kicking a small chunk of concrete that was by his boot, hands in his pockets.

“There’s a guy. From a rival pack who’s agreed to speak with us. Says he knows someone who had a similar issue as you.”

“He couldn’t just tell you over the phone?”

“Do you want his info or not?” Frank raised an eyebrow, clearly, he had already done a lot of the dirty work finding this person and even getting them to agree to a meeting. Billy sighed and nodded, taking the card with info Frank had pre-written down. The guy was from a pack in Connecticut. When the question was evident in his eyes Frank said, “He’s in town on business. Call him.”

“Thank you. Really.” Frank nodded and folded his hands over his chest looking to Curtis who swallowed roughly before looking to Billy.

“Ya know, Frank and I…we’re wondering why you don’t just …turn her?” He didn’t seem to particularly enjoy asking the question, but between the two of them it was valid. Of course, it was. It was easy for them to ask, to wonder. This was all they knew, it chose them. Billy on the other hand- he hadn’t asked for any of this. His choice was taken from him and some days it was a burden to bear.

Frank and Curtis were born into this life, it was all they’d known, born in it, grown in it, had family, friends, lovers that were a part of this life, who all came from the same background. There is a difference between wolves who are born in the pack and wolves who are turned. If you are born into it there is a baseline of control, its easier to marry the wolf with who you are as a human, it very rarely fights back for domination. While being turned is different, dangerous, there is room for error- too much room. If your body and mind cannot control the new rush of power, of change, it takes over.

Ferals, they called them. Wolves who were turned that couldn’t handle the change and went crazy. It was the packs job to hunt them down and eradicate them, and it happened far too often for Billy’s liking. It could happen at any time too, it wasn’t just within the first hours or days, even weeks of turning. You could be good for years and then something triggers it. He was a ticking time bomb he just didn’t know when. The idea of doing that to you, risking your life for something that might not even work? If his time came and he couldn’t get a handle on this part of him that was chasing you, attempting to break into your house…well at least he knew two people who could put him down if need be.

Your life was still yours, to make what you wanted of it. Billy was only turned because he was dying. Bleeding out and fast, there was no other choice, and it was a rough road to get the control he had today. His marine mind had helped him get this far, struggle was not unknown to him. He should be grateful for this second chance and he was, he’d been able to overcome so much, succeed beyond what he’d thought possible, then he met you and keeping his life compartmentalized was no longer working.

He was losing control, could feel it slipping as he changed on the full the moon the other night. Most nights he could remember what happened, it was a haze like when you’ve had a few too many drinks and everything is fuzzy but you can still see and experience it happening. Not this time, no this time he blacked out and there was nothing. He came to in the woods, covered it dirt and blood, confused as to where he was. It was only after the fogginess lifted with the last dredge of night that he realized he was in your town, outside of your friend Emily’s house. He had seen you in bed sleeping, before rushing back to his car, three towns over.

Frank had a wife and kids, Curtis, a girlfriend. Both in the pack, both able to turn with the moon each month. Their mates, able to be their whole selves with, unfiltered. Billy had always been just fine with hookups, things that meant nothing, doubting he’d ever truly be happy in a long-term relationship. He wasn’t born from love, so how could he possibly find it with someone romantically.

“You don’t understand. Its…different for me. You know that.”

Curtis looked downward and Frank’s shoulders dropped a little. They knew what he was talking about, couldn’t, and would never understand the pain of having to make a choice. Potentially kill the only person who means anything to you, or let yourself be taken down first. Billy was not a praying man, but as he said goodbye to his friends and got into his car to meet with this stranger who could maybe help him? Prayer didn’t seem like such a lost cause right now.

The man’s name was Logan, he had answered on the third ring when Billy called him to set up a rendezvous point. The guy had sounded gruff, unhappy about the meeting but accepted. They’d meet at a very public spot, a diner in the East Village. Billy’s phone beeped again as he was driving and your name popped up on the screen.

“Where did you go?” You had texted. He felt a jolt of guilt at having forgotten to text you, too consumed with meeting Frank as soon as possible, hoping he would’ve had the answers himself, not needing another person involved.

“Something came up. I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you.” He spoke into the Bluetooth speaker, approving it to send and realizing he was apologizing a lot to you lately and that maybe he just needed to do better. Be better. Women he understood, relationships for the long haul? Not so much. He wanted to be a better man for you, give you what you deserved, so that you never doubted how much he loved you.

Loved. When he had blurted that out last night his whole body had panicked at the thought of you not returning his feelings. You’d only been dating for over 6 months, he wasn’t sure if that was too soon? But you had responded in kind, and he felt it. The love radiating off of you, the way your body perked up, the scent of your approval. He’d not known what hope felt like most of his life, he did what he had to get by, but you- you changed him.

“I love you. Dinner tonight?” He quickly added before resuming focus on his drive to meet Logan. Billy pulled into a parking spot in front of the diner and could scent a separate pack member immediately. He was sure the sensation was mutual. Walking into the diner and hearing the little bell ding signaling his entrance only one man looked up and made eye contact with him. Moving swiftly and silently to the booth, removing his jacket and easing in quietly, doing his best to steady his heart and give off a sense of ease and peace so as not to spook his dinner companion.

Logan was a monster of a man, probably 6’4”, near on 250 lbs., all muscle and brawn. It didn’t matter that he looked to be close to 70, Billy was sure this man could rip nearly everyone in this diner in half with one hand tied behind his back. A series of scars covered his forearms and a long jagged one across his forehead through his right eyebrow.  Gray eyes fixed Billy with a gaze that had probably seen even more terrors than Billy had, which was a lot. Worn, tired, and fiery.

“Logan.”

“Mhmm.” The man gruffly responded, leaning back in his seat, eyes never leaving Billy. Watching his every move.  

“Frank said he’d talked to you. That you… might have some information for me?” Logan ‘humphed’ in response.

“So you’re having…animal control issues?” He questioned, after surveying the fellow patrons and noting none of them were actually paying attention to the two men. Billy nodded. “I’m gonna need more details, son.”  

“Didn’t Frank share those with you?” Logan refilled his coffee with the pot that had been left on the table. Scratching his shoulder before rolling his neck around, producing a loud crack.

“He shared some, but I wanna hear it from you.” Billy lowered his eyes, listening to everyone around them, waiting for a  break in the action as the couple in the booth  behind them got up to go pay their bill and leave, allowing a more comfortable amount of space between them and everyone else.

“Last full moon I was unable to control myself. I’d been feeling something for a few weeks prior, noticed a shift in that side of me, but didn’t realize how I-I’d changed. I blacked out completely, only saw bits and pieces in flashes,but I’d tried to break into her place, tried to get to her. Apparently trying to change her…” He gritted it out, fists clenched under the table. Still angry at himself, still hopelessly frustrated this was even happening to him. To you.

Logan made another noise of understanding, as if deep in thought.

“Have you considered maybe she’s your mate?”

“Turned wolves can’t have mates.” That’s what Frank had told him years ago. If you were a true blue born wolf then a mating bond could find you easily. If it wasn’t in your dna from birth then you weren’t able to have that connection, at least to the depth other males in the pack could. Logan continued his intense examination of Billy before responding,

“It can happen. Very rare. Very dangerous, but possible.” That was the info Frank knew Logan had, he knew of wolves who were turned that had mates, that’s why he’d even bothered suggesting turning you. “I will say, for the scant few times it’s happened often one of the pair will be a true born wolf, I’ve only seen it happen up close once with two who weren’t in a pack from birth.”

“And?” Billy felt himself on the edge of his seat, hanging on every word the man before him had said, waiting for more.

“It… didn’t end well. It was a turned female and her supposed mate who was a human male.” Billy’s eyes were still fixed on Logan, the older man took a deep breath, “ She killed him. Then we had to kill her. She was gone after that. Gone feral and needed to be taken out before she hurt other people, innocent people.” Taking another swig of coffee he continued, “She had chosen not to turn him, there might’ve been a chance that if it took and he didn’t turn feral that it’dve worked, but guess we’ll never know.”

Billy felt his heart plummet in his chest. His only sliver of hope was dashed. He couldn’t change you. Wouldn’t. If he did and it didn’t work…he’d never be able to live with himself.

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #werewolf!Billy #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel the punisher #Werewolf!billyrusso #Billy Russo x Reader #billy russo x female reader #werewolf fanfic #fanfic

[postalenha]

on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

#enhypen #enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen oneshot #enhypen blurb #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x female reader #enhypen jake #jake imagines #jake oneshot #jake sim #jake headcannons #jake drabbles #jake blurb #jake fluff #jake angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #jake fics #enhypen x reader #fluff #angst #sunghoon #heeseung #jay #imagines #kpop

[hozierandco]

Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT

A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.

For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.

Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.

Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.

The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.

"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"

Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.

"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.

"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"

Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.

Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.

The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.

Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.

Or so she thought.

"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.

"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.

Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.

"Please, let me be your guide"

"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"

"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.

Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.

As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"

It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.

"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.

"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.

"It's a yes, then?"

"Yes, it is"

"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.

"I'm a golf instructor"

"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"

"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"

"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"

Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.

"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"

***

"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.

She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.

Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.

"May I?"

"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.

She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.

"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"

And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.

"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"

"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"

The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.

As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.

Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.

He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"

As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"

"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"

Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.

"Is she a great teacher to you?"

"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"

Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"

The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.

Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.

They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.

"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"

"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"

"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"

"And you doubt it?"

"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"

After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.

Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.

Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.

With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.

"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"

The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.

"I would let you" Y/N replied.

***

Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.

"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.

"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.

After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.

As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.

He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.

"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.

He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."

Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.

"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.

"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"

"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.

Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.

Gracious God! There was lot to look at...

Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.

"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.

"Never been more sure in my whole life"

Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.

He was just half through when it began to hurt.

"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"

Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.

There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.

As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.

His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.

Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.

The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.

It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.

This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.

"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.

Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"

Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.

"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.

"Come for me, doll!"

She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.

But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.

He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.

"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"

Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.

Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.

In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.

Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.

Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.

She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.

"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"

Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.

Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.

"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.

#henry cavill #imagines #henry cavill imagines #smut #oops i guess #mind that i wrote smut in the train for the sake of science #henry cavill x reader