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enviedear · 5 months

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jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

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#billy the kid #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy bonney fluff #billy the kid fluff #i know everyone’s in their coriolanus era but…

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mytheoristavenue · 2 years

Text

ST Gareth Emerson x Munson!Reader - Lessons - 🍋

Warnings: fluff, smut, NSFW, MDNI, language, dirty talk, oral (f recieving), protected sex, virgin!reader, sub!reader, dom!Gareth

Summary: You convince Gareth to teach you play the drums, after your cousin, Eddie refuses to teach you guitar, much to his dismay.

“Eddie, please?” you whined, sitting beside your older cousin at the lunch table. He rolled his eyes at you, scoffing.

“I said no.” he replied sternly. “I don’t trust you with my guitar. End of conversation.”

“But you said if I learned an instrument, I could join your band!” you whined. “I’m telling dad you lied.”

Eddie laughed, biting mashed potatoes off his fork. “Go ahead, Wayne likes me more than you anyways.”

You huffed, crossing your arms and pouting as the conversation changed to the plans for Hellfire’s next meeting. All of your conversations went like this. Eddie always hated you being around him and his friends, but he did it because he knew you had trouble making your own. That and his uncle forced him to. Your cousin was also wildly protective of you. On one hand, he didn’t trust anyone else in that damned school to treat you well, but on the other, he didn’t trust his friends. Even though he’d never admit it, Eddie loved you, and knew you were a reasonably attractive girl. He also knew that his entire friend group was wrapped around your pinkie finger.

Your eyes wandered over to your right, the drummer of Corroded Coffin minding his own business, pushing peas around his lunch tray. “Garrreth....” you cooed, leaning into him, which perked Eddie’s interest. His eyes furrowed as he watched his friend blush over your attention, yet he kept quiet. “Could you give me some lessons?” you asked, flirtatiously, giggling at his reddened cheeks.

“What kind of lessons?” he asked, confused, and a bit taken aback by your sudden attention.

“Nope.” Eddie shouted, intervening. “(Y/N), fuck off my sheep.”

“Piss off, Ed, this is an AB conversation, so C your way out of it!” you retorted harshly, before turning back to the junior. Gareth, although he’d never admit to it, had always found it oddly endearing how you could go from cussing Eddie out, to conversing so kindly with someone else back to back. “I was hoping you could teach my how to play the drums. I’m gonna start my own band.” you smiled sweetly, momentarily turning back to stick your tongue out at your kin, hoping your comment would get under his skin.

“Oh yeah?” he replied with a nervous grin. “I-I mean yeah! Of course I can.” Your cousin glared at you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, deciding not to say anything else at the time.

“So...tonight?” you asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Tonight?” he repeated. “Um, yeah, tonight!” you batted your lashes, turning away, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tonight, your place.” With that you left him, walking to your next class.

“Um, what was that?” Eddie asked Gareth, gripping his shoulder tightly. “You plan on taking my baby cousin to your house? Alone?”

“It’s not like that,” the younger male protested. ”I’m just gonna teach her the basics.”

“Of what, sucking dick?” the senior pressed, narrowing his eyes.

“No!”

“Can I level with you?” Eddie seethed, giving Gareth his most intense stare. “That’s my baby cousin. She’s like my fucking sister, make sense?” The junior nodded sharply. “And you’re one of my best friends, I know you, yeah?” He nodded again. “So when she gives you those ‘fuck me’ eyes she always does to get her way and you give in, it doesn't reflect well on you.”

“She doesn’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” Gareth laughed, walking passed his superior, who followed him closely.

“She so does. And you give in every Goddamn time.” The Hellfire president persisted. “Promise me you won’t fuck my cousin.”

“I promise I won’t fuck your cousin.” the drummer rolled his eyes.

“Sweat it, Goddamnit. Swear on your life that you won’t lest the curse of Vecna strike you down.” Eddie sneared as the pair walked into class.

“I swear on my life, I won’t fuck your cousin, Eddie.”

----

You currently sat between Gareth’s legs, both of you on his stool, his sticks grasped firmly in your fingers, which were enveloped by his strong hands. He guided your movement as you created a very simple beat against the drumhead of his snare. He felt like starting with the snare would make things easier for you. You had long since begun to feel timid at the feeling of his body against yours, his torso laying against your back.

“Do you wanna take a break?” his voice suddenly snapped you out of your trance, making you blink in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I totally blanked out.” you apologized, twisting your back to look at him, blushing when you found his face to be much closer than you’d anticipated.

“That’s okay,” he smiled. “Let’s take a break for a sec, you seem distracted.” You were, very much so. “Want a drink?

“Sure, thanks.” you replied, catching the cold can of Coke he tossed at you.

“So, what do you think you’re having trouble with?” he asked, sitting in a nearby chair, letting you have the stool to yourself. After a moment, you began to miss his warm presence. “(Y/N)?”

“What?” you blushed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?” Gareth narrowed his eyes, leaning forward toward you.

“(Y/N), are you feeling okay?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Holy shit, you’re burning up.”

You swallowed hard, knowing full and well that you didn’t have a fever. He had a crush on you, you knew that, and you’d always enjoyed teasing him, but you never anticipated you’d be so flustered over Gareth Emerson of all people. “I-I’m fine.” you reassured him with a nervous smile, prompting him to suspiciously sit back down into his chair. “Do you mind if we get back to it?” you asked timidly.

Gareth pulled himself to a stand with a warm smile, coming behind you and sharing the stool with you again. Your breath hitched as you once again felt his body against yours. His hands trailed down your your arms until they reached your fingers, puppeting them to pick the sticks back up. He controlled your movements, guiding you through a simple pattern which, in turn made a very simple beat. “There,” he said with a proud smile, his breath hitting your ear and raising a crop of goose bumps on the back of your neck. “Your getting it now, I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks burned at his praise as he decided to kick up the difficulty a notch, dragging a cymbal closer. “Alright, (Y/N),” he began, his hands finding yours again. “This is a cymbal, it’s gonna make a kind of ‘tsss’ sound. I gonna give you directions, and I want you to hit the snare and the cymbal based on what I say, okay?”

You nodded, nervous to mess up in front of him, why could couldn’t say. “Do three beats on the snare with your right hand, and one on the cymbal with your left, then repeat until I say to stop.” You hesitantly obeyed his instruction, creating a slow, sloppy copy of the tune in his head. Gareth laughed, his breath once again hitting your ear. “That’s perfect, (Y/N), now try it again, just a little faster this time.” You made a second attempt, this time doubling your tempo, which seemed to please him very much. “Doing so good, so proud of you.”

Gareth’s praises sank down into the pit of your stomach, collecting in a deep need. Your breath felt heavy, and his even heavier at the base of your neck. You had zoned out, and without even realizing, you’d slowly let your pattern falter until you were no longer moving your hands. His hands neglected yours, now sitting idle between your legs as he tried to check up on you. “Hey, (Y/N), are you okay?” he asked, shaking you by the shoulders gently. Your eyes snapped wide with realization and you launched yourself out of his lap, knocking over instruments you’d just been using.

You shrieked, trying, and ultimately failing to catch them before they hit the ground, a loud racket reverberating between the walls of Gareth’s garage. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” you fretted, hands coming up to your face and covering it in humiliation. “I swear I’ll pay for any repairs!”

“(Y/N).”

You knelt down, hastily picking up the snare, inspecting it for damages, your shoulders slumping when you found a few scratches on the glossy side. “Oh my God, it’s scratched, Gareth, I’m so sorry!”

“(Y/N).”

You gently set the drum upright, hoisting the cymbal up next, relieved to not find and surface level damage. “This one looks alright, but if it’s not, just tell me and I swear to God I-I’ll-”

“(Y/N)! Please, stop talking!” You shuddered at his outburst, eyeing him like a lost kitten would a human. You instinctually stumbled back, holding your hands to your chest.

“I-I’m...I’m s-sorry..” you choked out as he took a step toward you. Slowly, Gareth reached out to you, trying to pull you closer to him, but you resisted harshly.

“(Y/N), please, I’m not gonna hurt you.” he asked, his eyes pleading with you to calm down. You allowed him to pull you in, keeping a cautious demeanor. “I’m not mad.” he finally sighed. “I’m not gonna make you pay for any damages, and I’m not gonna yell at you. It was my fault anyways.”

You glanced up at him sharply. “N-No, it was all my fault!” you protested, but he simply shook his head.

“It was all me. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. Was just worried is all.” he explained calmly. “What was wrong, by the way?”

Your eyes widened, pulling out of his arms, gaze downcast. “N-Nothing, I’m just distracted, I guess. I’m sorry.” Gareth cocked his brow at you, eyeing you suspiciously.

“You can tell me, I promise I won’t get mad.” He reassured.

You sighed deeply, mummering under your breath. “I-I’m uncomfortable...”

The boy’s eyes stretched, brows furrowed. “Oh, shit, Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” he stammered, taking a few steps away from you. “God, you probably think I’m a total creep! I wasn’t trying to do anything like that, I swear!” he defended, horrified at the thought of crossing your boundaries, even if it was an accident.

Your heart ached a bit. You had know he wasn’t trying to touch you inappropriately, but the way he said it almost made him sound disgusted at the thought. “I didn’t think you were, I’m sorry.” you mumbled, ashamed of the energy you’d created in the room. He stared at you from across the room, now a good six feet away, trying to give you space as your gaze was locked onto the concrete floor. “Would you though?” you finally asked, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“What?” he asked, concern and confusion scribbled all over his face.

You breathed deeply, mentally unready to say what you were about to say. “W-Would you...if given the chance...ever do that to me?” you asked cautiously, panicking when Gareth’s features contorted into a disturbed expression.

“No! I’d never do that to you, (Y/N), to anyone, actually!” he hollered, entirely freaked out.

“I-I meant...I’m sorry, I’m just gonna go.” you muttered, ready to just be rid of his presence. You darted for the door and when you felt fingers tangle around your wrists.

“Please don’t go,” he begged, pulling you back gently. “I’m sorry, explain, please.” Gareth was desperate to understand what you meant for many reasons. For one, you were his friend, and he cared for you, and wanted to know what you were feeling. And two, the thought of you running home and telling Eddie and your father that he’d touched you chilled him to the bone. His friendship with Eddie was strong, sure, but you were his baby cousin, and you had the ability to bring all of Hawkins to your knees if you so pleased, just with the bat of your eyelash, simply because of who you were related to. You stumbled back a bit in his grip, facing him again. “Please, I just want to understand.”

You fidgeted in place, playing with you fingers, eyes still glued to the floor. “Y-you didn’t make me uncomfortable...in a bad way...” you nervously explained.

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

“I-I was just wondering if...hypothetically, you would...try something, with permission?” Gareth’s eyes widened, finally grasping what you were talking about.

“Are you...asking if I would have sex with you?” he questioned cautiously, taking a step closer to you. His cheeks burned when you nodded. “Oh, absolutely. In a fucking heartbeat.” You blushed, not expecting him to answer so frankly, but this was Gareth, after all. He was known for his honesty. “So, when I was sitting behind you earlier,” he began, tilting his head to try and force himself into your peripheral vision. “Was I turning you on?” You nodded, ashamed, and feeling like a child that had been caught stealing. “I wish you would’ve told me.”

----

You sighed in satisfaction as Gareth laid a trail of kisses down your throat and pasted your naked collar bone. His strong hands held you firmly against him as you straddled him against his stool. He growled a bit, chuckling against your soft skin, his other hand caressing your back and twisting the ends of your hair as his hips rocked against yours. You’d long since been stripped of your clothes, sitting in his lap in just a bra, panties and socks. He, on the other hand, was still fully dressed from the hips down.

As elated as he was to have his lips on any part of you, he could feel his cock twitch in his jeans, and his erect was beginning to ache. Lust clouding his judge meant, he promptly stood up, scooping you into his arms, which startled you. Gareth carried you over to a nearby couch, which had once sat in his living room, but was now used for breaks in between band practices, before throwing you down on it. You giggled in excitement as he stalked closer to you, sinking down onto his knees when he got close enough. “Ya know,” he began, hiking your legs up and sliding your under where down. “I have always wondered what you taste like.”

“Gareth...” you muttered, suddenly shy at the prospect of receiving oral for the first time.

“Indulge me?” he asked, waiting for your consent to continue, and smirking when you simply nodded. “You don’t seem very enthused.”

Your brows knitted together, feeling embarrassed that he was going to make you say it. “Y-You can taste me...Please taste me?” you tried relieved when he confirmed, his head sinking down into your unexplored territory. You felt static crawl on your skin as he licked the first fat stripe up your slit, trying to get a feel for where to concentrate his efforts. Using your reactions as a guide, he found your sweetest spot easily, zeroing in on your clit mercilessly. Your lewd music filled his garage, and Gareth thanked his lucky stars that his family wasn’t home as he continued to pleasure you.

It wasn’t long until your body, unaccustomed to the pleasure became over loaded, ready to drop you into what would be the hardest orgasm of your life, this far. Gareth chuckled as your thighs tightened around his head, your body spasming. “Gonna cum all over my face, sweetheart? Go ahead and do it, baby.” he consented, his dirty words sending you over the edge. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes as an intense wave of pleasure crashed against you. Gareth was on cloud nine, being suffocated between your heat and your strong, doughy thighs; the thought along was almost enough to make him jizz his pants before even getting you to touch him.

The drummer hopped up as soon as you allowed him to, collapsing on the old couch and pulling your tired body against him, laying your head on his chest, and petting your hair softly. “Did so good, babe. So, So good for me.” he cooed, waiting for you to regain your composure, planting kisses into your locks every so often. You clung to him, emotion washing over you as you had come back down from your high. “Just let me know when your ready to continue, ‘kay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, nuzzling into him, panting and trying to catch your breath. “Can I touch you while I recover?” you asked so sweetly, wanting so deeply to give him the same treatment he had you, and feeling a tinge of guilt for being so selfish. He smiled warmly at you, unbuckling his belt, and unfastening his jeans, allowing a plain tent to pop out. He sighed a bit at the relief that the freedom brought him. “’Course, I’m yours to do whatever you want with, baby.”

You smiled tiredly as he pulled his cock from his boxers, letting you lazily pump it, spreading a pearl of pre as far as it would last on his bell. Gareth laid his head back on the back of the couch, watching you take your hand away, just to lick up you palm, and return it to his crotch. “So good at this.” he moaned, still playing with your hair as you began to put more effort into pleasing him. Finally, you felt ready to continue, having mentally prepared yourself to be deflowered. Still stroking, you looked him dead in the eyes, pressing a kiss to his unsuspecting lips.

“I’m ready.”

----

Gareth held your right leg over his shoulder, angling his protected appendage to easily glide right into you. You laid beneath him on the couch, and he hovered over you, one knee on the cushions, and the other leg straightened, standing against the cement. “Gonna go in easy, ‘kay? Tell me if it hurts.” me reassured, holding a gently eye contact with you. You consented with a nod, giving him the go ahead and push into you.

You seethed, breathing sharply though your teeth as he stretched you out, inserting himself fully and holding his position to give you time to adjust. “You ok, babe?” he asked, concern written on his freckled features. You unscrewed your eye lids to gaze up at him, looking perfectly pitiful.

“I-I’m fine,” you said, relieving him of the guilt that bubbled in his chest. You took a deep, calming breath, and felt ready to begin. “C-Can you move, just a little? Really slowly.”

“You’re wish is my command, princess.” he cooed, slowly pulling himself out almost entirely, leaning down to drip a mouthful of spit to slicken your ride. Gently, he reinserted himself, rocking his hips in shallow circles. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could already feel yourself coming undone, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Gareth sighed, finding the blissful look on your face so cute. He’d barely touched you yet and you already seemed to be half way there.

Over time, his pace gradually increased, never enough at one time that you could notice, though. In perfect honesty, he was entirely sure you’d noticed that he’d quickened at all. Your features still displayed that same adorable look, and your whines were just as lewd as before. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d think your where faking, but the way your breath hitched in your throat, drool sliding down your chin could not be falsified. You were so dick dumb and he loved it.

By now, Gareth could recognize how close he was coming to his orgasm, as when as roughly gauge you progress. Your velvety walls squeezing his cock was a tell tale sign of your impending climax, and he intended to match it, mind fogged with the thought of you both cumming together. He was already giving you as much effort as he could, but he could easily tell that it was enough. You’re eyes were glued to the back of your head, and brows permanently furrowed into a desperate art piece. ”Shit, baby, gonna fucking cum.” he warned, his little skull and crossbones neckless bouncing like a puppet on a string as he pounding into you. You responded in a string of whimpers, with a few syllables mixed in that he couldn’t recognize at this point.

Soon, his thrusts became sloppy, and less coordinated, finding that the way your gummy cave spasmed upon receiving him was proving to be too much. With a few final rocks of his pelvis, he whined out, desperate for your orgasm to match time with his as he spilled his seed into the condom he was wearing. Finally, seconds after, you felt your second coming crash against you, leaving you screaming his name and trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, slipping out of you, and wiping sweat form his brow. “I really tried to last, wanted us to cum together.” he complained, plopping down beside your glistening body, and pulling you into him. You looked at him with astonished doe eyes, feeling so ridiculously close to him in this moment. “Guess we’ll just have to try again next time.” he chuckled into your hair.

“Will there be a next time?” you breathed out, now worried that your new dynamic with him would be friends with benefits and nothing more.

“You say that as if I could say no?” he replied, tiredly. “As if.”

“No,” you clarified, snuggling into his side. “I mean...what are we now?”

“To be perfectly honest with you,” he started, reaching to the table beside the couch, now behind him from his position, and finding a pack of cigarettes, before lighting one up and taking a drag. “Fuck buddies isn’t really my style. But I do genuinely like you.”

“So...?” you pressed, taking the cigarette from him and taking a puff of it yourself.

He exhaled the smoke that he held in his cheeks. “Girlfriend and boyfriend?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“I’d like that.” you agreed, nuzzling into him, letting your eyes close as exhaustion began to take you. As you drifted off, Gareth was left alone with his thoughts.

Holy shit, I fucked Eddie’s cousin.

Oh no, I fucked Eddie’s cousin.

#stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth emerson smut #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #munson!reader #eddie's cousin!reader #stranger things smut

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lily-orchard · 3 months

Note

Why is eating cat on dog meat on a similar morally wrong level to cannibalism? What argument is there against it besides "it's gross?"

Historically Cats and Dogs have been companion animals. Cats hunt pests, dogs assist with all sorts of work. It's for the same reason people balk at Horse Meat. We've always used different animals for different things, and if that animal was raised to assist with work in some way, it was instilled into us that

Dog is Friend and Co-Worker, not Food.

Cat is Friend and Mousetrap, not Food.

Horse is Provider of Fast, not Food.

Spider is Flytrap, not Food.

Cow, Pig and Chicken? That Food.

We've bred Cows, Pigs and Chickens to be so efficient at providing food that they are barely capable of doing anything else. To a lesser extent, people will eat mutton, but the primary purpose of raising sheep is for wool, so mutton isn't consumed anywhere near as much.

This differs by culture. Some places like eating spiders and scorpions because they're plentiful.

In India, Cow is Friend, not Food.

In Judaism, Pig is dirty. Rolls in mud. Pig gross. No eat Pig.

To large sections of the population, Cow Juice is poison. To Europeans, Cow Juice create soft orange brick, greatest thing in universe.

And, universally, Human is Kin, not Food.

Animals have association with us, for not even moral reasons but rather sensible, level-headed reasons: The cow is for eating. Don't eat the Herding Dog you idiot, you need that!

You don't eat something that keeps incessantly trying to sleep in your bed, which is why I never barbecued Courtney.

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backwoodsbarking · 9 months

Text

with my school starting again soon, id like to say some stuffs about being a therian in high school.

im going into my junior year, and starting at a new school with the same people. my high school splits 9/10 grade and 11/12 into two schools. i am hoping that this year the people that liked to harass me in the halls have grown up a bit. thankfully, last year, nobody tried to take my tail, though i did feature on the schools "cringe" instagram and my cities "cringe alert" snapchat story. so there was some unwanted publicity.

but. i love expressing my nonhuman identity, and i do that by wearing a tail and pins that say "not human" and "yip!" and "it/its plz!". i have yet to find other therians, not even just at my school, but in my city. though, my boyfriend is crocodile, bunny, and sheep kin, so im not the only alterhuman here. but i really do want therian friends that i can practice quads with or nudge lovingly or press noses with.

wish me luck yall!

#therian #alterhuman #otherkin #wolf therian #therianthropy #dog therian #domestic dog therian #fox therian #butterfly therian #nonhuman #school #back to school #crocodile kin #croc kin #sheep kin

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trenchcoatsbi · 8 months

Note

friend again… can i request writing about myself comforting tommy from my pov… we were close and i miss him 💙

Hi Friend! Sorry this took so long. I’m not just much of a writer. I mean I can technically do it but I’m not great at it. Takes me ages to get any writing done if it isn’t an essay for school.

Now I wasn’t really planning on doing any writing for this blog but since Wil isn't here to do this anymore and I didn’t want to leave ya hanging I just sucked it up and put my writing hat on.

By the way for some reason this entire thing is in second person and frankly I have no idea why I did that. idk that was just baffling to me lmao so i felt the need to mention it. I hope this is something? I dunno, as I said creative writing aint my forte, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless -phil

Night had always been Ghostbur’s favorite time of day.

The crisp air, the fireflies, the serene cacophony of life in the woods just a stone's throw away. It was always just so nice.

He’d sit with you and just talk for hours on end as the moon rose and eventually bathed everything in its silvery light. You could almost forget he was a ghost sometimes until the moonlight went and cut right through him like he wasn’t there.

You miss him.

You wonder where he went.

The door next to the stable slams open, quickly followed by a string of muttered curses as it’s slowly creaked back into place by Tommy.

Wild-eyed and shaking he steps away from the cabin slowly as if he half expects that door to be thrown open by someone or something in pursuit of him.

Why he would think that you have no idea.

But Tommy is certainly not dressed to be outside right now, you know that much.

He stands there breathing so heavily you could almost lose sight of his face in the clouds of his breath.

You bump your head into the fence gate, bleating in the hopes of getting his attention.

It’s not much but you have wool, you can keep him warmer than he is now in his t-shirt and jeans.

Tommy jumps at the noise and spins looks at you, though for the longest time, you get the sense that he isn’t seeing you.

Again you nudge at the fence gate.

“Friend?” he says in a shaky way that is entirely un-Tommy of him.

He takes a few cautious steps towards the stables, still glancing back at the heavy spruce doors back into the cabin like he thinks a monster will burst out of it at any time.

It’s times like this where you sometimes wish you could speak. If you could you would remind him that Technoblade isn’t a threat to him, though you get the feeling that Techno isn’t the monster Tommy is worried about at the moment...

He pushes the gate open and steps back, watching you as you walk from the stable and circle him almost like he expects a wolf to greet him instead of a sheep.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing though, you are not.

You’re a sheep in sheep’s clothing!

A sheep and nothing else.

So perhaps it’s a bit unorthodox for you to be the one herding something, but with some nudging and a lot of half-whispered shouts at you to cut it out, you finally manage to force Tommy into the stables.

He, after much grumbling and cursing you and Ghostbur and whatever power that be that gave a damn sheep the audacity to try and trap him somewhere, sits down.

And naturally, you lay down directly in his lap.

It’s not immediate, but a softness cuts through his sour expression as he looks down at you.

He sighs dramatically but nonetheless starts running his hands through your wool, petting you just like Ghostbur used to when he was stressed or worried.

Sometime later he starts talking, rambling really, about something you can’t quite understand but know is painful for him.

And just like with Ghostbur you wish you could do more than what you’re doing already.

But as his breathing slows and his half-angry, half-sad, half-scared torrent of words slows to a trickle you know in some way that you helped.

He sighs, burying his face in your wool as he hugs you as tightly as he can. And you two stay like that for what is an eternity and is no time at all.

“I think you’d beat the shit out of Dream in a fight,” he mumbles into your wool.

That thought seems to amuse him, for the first time in a while you hear him laugh, “Green bitch doesn’t stand a chance against you at all.”

You baa a response, one he takes as an agreement as he starts laughing about it all over again.

“That’s right. He’d lose so badly he’d leave the smp forever…”

Tommy yawns, sleep finally catching up to him as he relaxes against you. “Hold off on beating up him alright? I wanna be awake to see it.”

The sun rises, a new day starts, and you stay there holding vigil over him until he gets scooped up by Techno in the morning and taken back inside to the proper warmth of the cabin.

You finally settle in for a well-deserved rest, ignoring as Carl neighs and starts trotting about the stable as if he’s forgotten that he shares it with you again.

You did it.

You helped.

And that thought alone is enough to make your sleep the best it’s been since Ghostbur disappeared.

#phil posts #writing #dsmp kin #dream smp kin #friend kin #friend the sheep kin #again sorry that it took like 3 months for me to finally do this #I am just not good at getting myself to write lol #not sure how i feel about what I made tbh not sure if its even close to what you were looking for Friend but I hope you like it nonetheless

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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 3 months

Note

hai

if its alr with you, can i please request an auditor x angel!reader?? im so STARVED for auditor content 😭😭

Feather light and black as night

Auditor x Angel!Reader

The contrast between you and your lover was almost comical in nature. Auditor, a being of hellfire, destruction, darkness and doom, and you, in pristine white robes, gilded jewellery, gold painted nails, and a beautiful decorated halo behind you head.

A vicious warmongerer in black and blood red, and a pure light of salvation seeking to heal wounded and lost sheep in your shared domain.

Your feathered ears twitched softly, listening intently to the wayward sinner before you, his burned out red eyes full of anger and indignant righteousness. "I understand your plight, shepard, but you and I both know calling on my kin to purge the land of this wickedness won't work. There are factors at play that put all of us in danger, and calling on Heaven's highest orders will amount to thousands of holy souls lost."

"This is unjust and you know it! A fellow angel should realise this! Wicked sin has scorned this earth and continues to mount, you think Heaven's gates will be safe should they learn a way to access theme?" Jebediah slammed his hands on your desk, his own damaged wings spreading wide. "It's only a matter of time before this wickedness spills over, and even Heaven itself will be corrupted."

"Have you no faith in the lord, Christoff?" Blinking slowly, your feathery eyelashes somehow fanning the flames of his damaged soul. "I know you're desperate for a solution, this is your home. But I cannot call upon those higher than me, even if I wanted to. Rest assured, we are watching, and when the time is right, Heaven's gates shall open, and salvation shall come to all the land. Patience, Christoff, is a virtue after all."

Jeb folded his wings behind his back, despite how often he came to argue his point, he would always back down at your words. You knew deeply he was soothed by the presence of a divine being, seeking to vent his anger and conflicted feelings at someone he shared ambitions with. "I shall continue this plight alone then, for now."

"You're never alone, Christoff. The lord is with you always. Go now in peace, shepard. May the light shine with you."

"And with you." As he left your office, the Auditor passed him, and slipped in, seeing as you were now alone.

"Is he bothering you again?" He knew of Jeb's reoccurring visits too, a desperate wannabe holy soul begging for reassurance he was on the right path.

"Not at all." Your wings fluffed up as you stood. "Greetings, Auditor. How may I aid you today?" The light of your halo illuminated your features, bathing everything in divine holy light.

Auditor shut the door with a flick of his wrist. "It's an informal visit, this time." He crossed the room and his figure melded to yours, his flames rolling into each crevice in your robe, swirling into your hair, gliding between your feathers.

To an angel, no matter their rank, touching wings was seen as the highest form of intimacy, saved for family, close friends, and lovers. "I'm still supposed to be working, my love," If Auditor had knees, they'd be weakening right now.

The sweet pet name, love, and the fact you called him yours. The words rolled off your tongue often enough, but the sparks in his stomach never dimmed, no matter how much you used them, never losing their lustre.

"Do you have any idea how maddening it is having you so close, but never close enough with those prying eyes?" Auditor longed to bask in your holiness every second of the day, but both of you had work to attend to, making his desires impossible.

You'd been sent down initially by your arch angel to help convert sinners, purgatory and hell having too high an intake for the demons to keep track of, and heaven offered to lighten the load, as long as the wayward would allow light into their hearts.

His lips brushed against yours, the heat of his body rushing over you, and instinctively you kissed back, hand cradling the back of his head, his hands coming to rest in the curve of your back and on your spine.

Reflexively, your spine plumage puffed up, an indicator of relaxation. "We still have much to do before we retire for the night," You mumbled softly, but you leaned further in his arms, letting him secure you in his grasp.

"You're not backing off though, angel." Auditor teased you. If you really wanted to, he'd let you go, but both of you knew you didn't want that right now. His touch felt good, and it had been a long day already. "Care to split early and allow me to indulge in your presence?"

A stubborn hardass, but Audi had a soft spot for you, not only because of the power you represented, but because your attitude. You were a lot more positive than the other people he was surrounded by, and that was what attracted him to you to begin with.

"Very well, I suppose we've earned some time to ourselves." You wriggled from his grasp, much to his mumbling protests, but you needed to turn your sign around. 'The Angel is OUT, please return at 6am.'

Auditor's body once again embraced yours, he was feeling rather clingy today. His hands rolled over your arms, fingers interlacing with yours, his chest pressed into your back, head resting on your shoulder, carefully avoiding being stabbed by the spikes of your halo. "Are you finished here dear?"

A gasp left your lips as he lightly nibbled your neck. "Behave!" Your wings puffed up, eyes opening on them to stare at him. "Such behaviour in public is inappropriate!" Even with nobody around, angelic prudishness still shone through.

"Then allow us to go somewhere more private?" Darkness filled the room, and suddenly you were both in the Auditor's private chambers. It was dimly lit by candles, and soft ambient lighting from fairy lights on the ceiling. Lavender incense burned on his side table, bed carefully laid with your favourite comforter and pillows.

"You've been slacking off work to do this, haven't you?" You giggled, turning to see him changing into lounge wear, hanging his suit up to keep it crisp and straight.

"Perhaps a little. But you're worth the effort, and so much more, carissima." You opened your drawers, taking out your own lounge robes, slits in the back to fit your wings into. Fresh white linens with golden embroidery, folded with care and neatly in line. "Lay down, I would like to prune your wings, if you'll allow me."

Audi melted into the floor, flames rolling over the ground and onto the bed, before he manifested again, patting his lap. He really, really loved your wings. "Very well, seeing as how much effort you've put into this." Slumping down onto your shared bed, you spread your left wing over his lap, and he carefully began to run his fingers into the white plumage.

Black and red mixing with white and gold, a harsh contrast that seemed to fit so well together. "Ah amica mea, you're too kind." Again your spines puffed up, relaxing as Audi's warm hands massaged your wings and pulled out loose feathers.

Latin, oh, you nearly made him swoon. "Anything for you carissima."

"I do have a query, dear."

"Yes my lover?"

"What do you do with my loose feathers?"

Ah.

"I.. Keep them. In my suits. Replace them once they get frayed and worn. It's nice to have little pieces of you with me when you can't be there physically." He leaned down, kissing your wing softly.

"Unfair, why don't I have something like that?" You giggled playfully, not being serious.

Auditor's face turned red, that was unexpected. "I could offer you that if you wanted." You looked up at him, his face flush and burning. "There is nothing you could ask for that I couldn't deliver." He summoned a golden necklace, a tiny vial acting as the pendant. Slowly unscrewing the top, he placed a piece of his fire into the jar, sealing it shut again. "Sit up, let me put it on you."

You obeyed, rising to your knees and turning your back to him, sweeping your hair out of the way, allowing him to attach the chain. "It's perfect," Touching the bottle, you felt heat radiating from it, the same warmth when he touched you.

"And how perfectly it adds to you." He smiled, cuddling into you. "What a wonderful idea, now people will be aware of the fact you're mine."

#madcom #madness combat #jebus #auditor #auditor x reader #the auditor #madness combat auditor #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #madcom reader insert #madness combat reader insert #x gon deliver to ya

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edenmemes · 1 year

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the northman (2022) starters

❝ your kingdom will not last. ❞ ❝ my fate did not ready me for finding you. ❞ ❝ your strength breaks men’s bones. i have the cunning to break their minds. ❞ ❝ i thought i must always shield my heart in stone. ❞ ❝ were you lost? ❞ ❝ in the end, you’re just like your father. ❞ ❝ even now, you believe the fairy tale i told you is true? ❞ ❝ you are still a beast cloaked in man-flesh. ❞ ❝ why would you come to such a hellish place? ❞ ❝ live always without fear, for your fate is set and you cannot escape it. ❞ ❝ should i fall by the enemy’s sword, you must avenge me. ❞ ❝ i must die for the sword. i will die in honor. ❞ ❝ this ground harbors evil. ❞ ❝ hate is all i have ever known. but i wish to be free of it. ❞ ❝ my hour of grief has passed. ❞ ❝ whatever you hear, you must stay hidden. ❞ ❝ my heart knows only revenge. ❞ ❝ i knew then you had a heart of cold iron. ❞ ❝ if you lose me, will you come and look for me? will you? ❞ ❝ never enter my chambers without invitation! ❞ ❝ i have never felt close to another person. not since i was a child. ❞ ❝ could it not be that fate has spun another thread for you to follow? ❞ ❝ wherever i go, i must take you with me. ❞ ❝ you came back for me. ❞ ❝ i cannot truly believe you have extinguished your fire for vengeance. ❞ ❝ your sheep’s clothing does not disguise you. ❞ ❝ this is the last tear you will shed in weakness. ❞ ❝ you sacrificed yourself so that i could flee. ❞ ❝ hide your cunning. show the shepherd you are a sheep. ❞ ❝ you must choose between kindness for your kin, and hatred for your enemies. ❞ ❝ you found me. ❞ ❝ i will tear out their eyes, and i will tear out their tongues. ❞ ❝ look me in the eye. ❞ ❝ i will become a hailstorm of iron and steel. ❞ ❝ you know why i have come. ❞ ❝ come morning, they will hunt for me. ❞ ❝ did you find it? what you lost. ❞ ❝ you best find yourself some sleep. ❞ ❝ if you’re as untrustworthy as a wolf, i swear i’ll put you down myself. ❞ ❝ like a battle-dog returning to its master, i’ve come to be fettered by your fair locks. ❞ ❝ ever are we bound. ❞ ❝ i will have my vengeance. and more. ❞ ❝ your mind reeks of your father. ❞ ❝ your words are poison. ❞ ❝ do as you’re told. go. ❞ ❝ please, it’s but a jest. a jest. ❞ ❝ you keep a foul tongue, yet i keep you as a deep-sworn friend. ❞ ❝ i refuse to die in sickness nor live the long life of a shameful graybeard. ❞ ❝ be not afraid. do as i do. ❞ ❝ together we will rage in the battlefield of corpses. ❞ ❝ my fate has brought me here. ❞ ❝ for now, i will haunt this place like a hungry corpse returned from the grave. ❞ ❝ can you fight? ❞ ❝ whatever happens tomorrow, be ready to run. ❞ ❝ this is not the work of my god. ❞ ❝ i should kill you and all that is dear to you. ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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theoppositeofprofound · 17 days

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Assigning First Age humans favorite foods for reasons

Bëor/Balan: Holds a traveller’s fondness and fear towards the humble mushroom; he counts himself lucky that Nargothrond is so vigorous in fungiculture.

Haleth: Though she’s eaten orc (before the elves got all hysterical about it) she doesn’t like it. As an older woman she gets a taste for dried hawthorn and very piquant rowan wine.

Marach: Grains are a new indulgence, he was never much of a farmer while on the march. In Estolad he finds a love of barley cakes.

Adanel: Raises ducks for gizzards

Imlach: Turnips in mountain goat butter. Like elves, he’s not “lactose tolerant” but cold climate girls make do.

Andreth: Innovated heavily in the field of Jellies, combining old advice from her teachers and elf lore to finalize the perfect crabapple jam.

Bregor: Lake trout with bitter orange.

Beril: Trained truffle hounds and valued her prizes highly.

Emeldir: Roast pig, fattened and butchered in autumn. As the main coordinator, she takes pride in the finished product and lets herself have a bit of crackling when it’s done.

Barahir: Is impressively lactose tolerant and enjoys an early, soft cheese, baked till its gooey.

Beren: In the dark woods, birds without a brood that year would spit crop milk into his mouth. It isn’t the taste he misses but the sense someone was one his side. Also hot drinks—after years being hunted it’s nice to have the security to build a fire.

Húrin: Lamb with a a certain blend of spices, the recipe reportedly over the mountains by his ancestors. No one uses cumin like Hador’s people.

Huor: The elves of Gondolin kept snail—he’s never been able to recapture the crisp, woody taste of their eggs.

Morwen: Dove, roasted, maybe a little more raw than is advisable but she trusts her butchery.

Rian: Nectar from the woodbine that blooms late in spring

Ulfang: Fresh wild-strawberries; his sons would bring him handfuls of them when they were small.

Bór: He likes a fermented milk, somewhere between kumis and filmjölk, but he’ll also drink milk raw just to flex on Maedhros’ kin.

Aerin: Even before she was tasked with feeding great numbers in the shadow of famine, she had a fondness for the humble onion.

Tuor: Bumblebee honey, dug out of the ground right at the coming of winter, when the bees are dying and don’t need it anymore.

Túrin: A pine nut/bear fat/mandrake pemmican Beleg taught him. None of his friends handle the alkaloid content as well as he does. He likes raw potatoes too.

Nienor: Used to catch the snakes that came to prey on her mother’s birds and make them into soup. As Níniel she eats crabapples before they can be jellied.

Dior: Little minnows found in the cold streams of Doriath and around the island of his birth. Also, eel.

Brandir: Roast chestnuts—he uses his cane to crack them open to the delight of children.

Eärendil: Enjoys shark as a child, before Morgoth’s seeping rot builds up dangerously in local bioaccumulators. Likes fennel in Sirion and the sea buckthorn that grows near his lady’s tower across the waves.

Elros: Seafood is a steady source of protein for an establishing society. Once they have the stores to use their sheep for meat as well as wool though? He’s your king for mutton in almond milk.

#since my second age post has been going around #the silmarillion #edain

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thebroccolination · 1 year

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As a BounPrem devotee, I must share one of my favorite little theories called “BounPrem are liars (not really but it’s a catchy tagline so go with me on this)”.

One of BounPrem’s most famous marketing stories is that they didn’t like each other initially. While they didn’t officially meet until their UWMA audition, they first saw each other at a weeklong university culture fair during which they worked at “rival” booths. Prem’s sold pork skewers, Boun’s sold cold milk. They were opposite each other working with about 3-5 other people, so it’s deeply funny to me that Prem says he thought Boun was arrogant and Boun says he doesn’t remember Prem at all. I think we all assume this was a minor thing that they’ve embellished for marketing purposes.

It’s fun because it contrasts what they’re like now.

Y’know, this:

THAT’S YOUR BLOOD ENEMY, PREM, WHAT WOULD YOUR YOUNGER SELF SAY.

Now, please look at the photo below while remembering every iteration of the “we didn’t like each other at first” fable.

Please look, if you will, at famously good-natured OhmFluke who always liked each other, who have left respectable breathing space between them. And now look at “culture fair blood rivals who needed Sheep to push them to talk to each other” just contentedly leaning into each other.

This is devastating to your case, Mr. Prem “I was very unhappy when I heard I’d be paired with P’Boun” Warut Chawalitrujiwong.

This isn’t even a shipping thing, to be clear. I just enjoy that they were basically a mirror image of WinTeam from the start. I think they were both individually like “he seems neat!” in their own way, and then when neither of them communicated that in a way the other could understand, they pivoted hard to “WHAT NO I DON’T EVEN LIKE HIM HE’S TOO LOUD/QUIET”. And I find that enormously funny.

My theory is assisted by one of Prem’s versions that goes: “I was telling my friends at the booth, ‘Look at this handsome bastard, thinks he’s so cool,” while Boun’s version was, “I was hungry and one of the girls working at the booth with me said their pork skewers were good so I went to buy some but they all glared at me so I bought a skewer and ran away”. Introvert and Extrovert, classic case of miscommunication.

BECAUSE!!!

Just!!!

Look with me! Look at this adorable, fluffy-haired baby:

THIS IS THE MAN PREM VOWED VENGEANCE AGAINST.

His Blood Rival of the Milk Bottles.

I’m sorry, I’ll never stop finding their origin story funny as fuck. I love them both so much, and I think someone told them to play up the rivalry angle because it’s good marketing. It’s just so toothless because look at them.

I’m sorry, I’ll just never believe that their “rivalry” was at all even remotely serious at any point.

Not to mention!!! That shortly after casting was decided for UWMA, Prem who was already cast in Longkhong the Series asked his own agency to send Boun’s headshots to the director so he’d be cast as Kin. Prem also changed his own role so he and Boun would play NatKin, the vaguely BL side pair. Prem wasn’t cast as Nat originally!

I’m onto you, Warut.

Anyway, there’s no big point to this. I just think it’s cute that Prem’s always had Boun’s back in this industry even when they were barely acquainted. He couldn’t have known they were lightning in a bottle, that their chemistry was off-the-charts the way it is, that Boun would mean so much to him later. I think he’s just got a tremendously good heart, and once he was partnered with Boun, he threw all his energy into supporting him.

And Boun changed for the better because, in his words, he realized that his behavior reflected on Prem, and it helped him evolve into the sweetheart everyone knows him to be now.

They’re just so good and I’m in withdrawal and I wanted to talk about them because I love them the end.

#bounprem #premboun #prem warut #boun noppanut #between us the series

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blubushie · 11 months

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ABOUT ME

READ THIS BEFORE YOU SEND ASKS/INTERACT. ASK BLU ANYTHING DAY (ABAD) is on the first full weekend of every month!

MINORS: Block the "#blu lewd" tag OR I WILL BLOCK YOU and do not DM me unless it's to ask to join Blucord. This goes ESPECIALLY if you're 16 or under. Adults on the internet are not your friends, and I am not comfortable speaking with you privately without a third party present.

G'day fellas! You can call me Blu, and I can be invoked like some Lovecraftian horror by mentioning Sniper in the TF2 tags. King of Sniper Lore (and Australia), Messiah of Bludaism, also known as the "Sheepshagging Roorooting Horsehumping Mountainfucking Melonpiping 13x-Divorced Breastmaster Hitman Inenrt Dingoboy Piss Cheese Jorts Bludysseus Blu'nt Bushgod Sniper Blog" despite not being a Sniper blog (and not actually shagging a sheep or rooting a roo or being married to start with or caring all that much for cannabis, I'm a psychedelics bloke). I'm just Like This.

Been told I'm the "Sniper kin of all Sniper kins." Not sure what a kin is these days but from what I've heard I'm content with not knowing.

This is my only blog. I have three sideblogs. One is @blu-doods, where I post my shitty stick figure art for laughs, and the other two are @art-reblugs, where I reblog art on (I reblog art here too, but the pickings are far more slim) and @post-reblugs (same as art but for text posts).

Again, not a Sniper roleplay blog. That said feel free to call me Sniper as a joke because I do very much enjoy it. Just keep in mind that I am my own person and not a fictional character. There's a real person behind the screen.

Sometimes I go on tangents and start infodumping. You can find the masterlist here. Also please read my DNI list and check out my pronouns page (I spent so much time on it).

My ask box is always open to whatever you want to say. Questions, comments, infodumping, or whatever else comes to mind. I particularly enjoy things relating to TF2, astronomy, nature, classic cars, and weapons. :]

If you find a weird animal or plant and want to know what it is, send me a picture with the location and there's a fair chance I can ID it! ("Location" doesn't need to be city, just state or general region!)

If you're looking to do art or something of me, please see this post for a guide to what I look like and this post for my rules on what is and isn't acceptable!

We now have a Discord server! If you want to join just DM me :]

My avatar was done by the incredibly talented @grumpygrumblet!

SOME INFO ABOUT ME

I have autism, selective mutism, and some other issues that aren't really important. Point is that sometimes it can be hard for me to talk or properly put my thoughts into words. This makes me come across as cold sometimes. I'm not good at communicating with words and I'm better at expressing it in person where I can rely more on touch. I apologise if I seem rude because I'm not trying to be. Let me know and I'll try to articulate what I mean to say in a gentler way.

I'm 23.

Bushstraight. AMAB transmasc. Weird bloke.

I grew up in Alice Springs and spend most of my time in the NT. On the first Friday of the month there's a good chance you can find me at the Daly Waters Pub. CU in the NT! (Not now though because I'm stuck in America for the foreseeable future. Oops. Try me again in 2025!)

I hunt professionally for pest control. Usually it's invasive animals like pigs, cats, or feral dogs. I'm also licenced to occasionally deal with nuisance native wildlife like crocodiles, but aside from assisting in relocation efforts I've yet to be called out for a crocodile. I'm alright with this—I really don't want to shoot a crocodile.

I also hunt to feed myself and my dog. Her name is Misty and she's an Australian Shepherd/Golden Retriever mix. You can see her here or by checking out my "mistyposting" tag.

I used to participate in kangaroo culls and by law I have to shoot them in the head so if you ever want to know what it's like to pop skulls, reckon you can ask me. Also on the kangaroo thing: if you're Australian and from 2020-2021 ate kangaroo or bought kangaroo dog food or leather, there's a chance I'm the one what got it to you.

I'm a bushie. This means I'm a survivalist who lives out in the bush. I technically live in a van (ute + camper in the tray) but if there's good weather I'm usually sleeping outside unless it's an area with a lot of dingos (they don't usually bother people but I'm not going to take risks with my dog). I have no permanent residence and I move from place to place for work. Occasionally I have to go into cities for work (I'm looking at you, M*lbourne) but these are thankfully rare occasions and only when I'm strapped for cash.

Sometimes while clearing a squatter's land I'll find Psilocybe mushrooms and take them back home and get high when I'm done working. It makes for an interesting experience and my favourite thing to do is lay on the top of my van and watch the stars for a while.

I have a mullet and I am awful proud of it. It's easy upkeep since I can cut it using the mirror of my van.

I've drank my own piss on more than one occasion. The first time was because I was dying of dehydration out in the bush and it kept me alive for 2 days until I found water. The second time was for science. Certified Piss Kink Guy. (Editor's note: I do not in fact have a piss kink.)

I have infinitely large balls.

I am a bogan. I am proud of that too. Viva la boganism.

I am Ameristralian. I was born in the US and came to Australia when I was 2 years old—both of my parents are American but my parents lived in Australia for work. I grew up in Australia but when my parents split Dad went back home to California to buy back my grandfather's station and I spent most of my high school years in California (years 10-12) and lost my accent. I now live in Australia with a very thick American accent so I get the "lost tourist" spiel a lot and I reckon I'm never going to stop having to prove I'm Australian. It's gotten me into pub fights before and will continue to do so. I had a stroke in 2023 and now have my Aussie accent back LMAO

I've been told I'm "Sniper IRL." (Cheers, bloke I met in a Sydney pub, for getting me into TF2 by telling me this.)

I fucking love crocodiles to a possibly dangerous degree. Technically I love everything nature and especially animals, but crocodiles are just something special to me. I blame Steve Irwin and the fact my favourite thing to do as a nipper was go up to Darwin with Mum during the dry season and go croc spotting.

I like TF2, nature (particularly plants and animals), astronomy, and history. My special interest is sniping. I also love science and medicine. PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THESE THINGS BECAUSE I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM.

I swear a lot. I will not apologise for it. Fight me, cunt.

Please ask me about the shit I've seen out in the bush. I have so many stories. Actually, just ask me anything. Just talk to me in general, please. I need it.

I like knives (penchant for Bowie knives and machetes), firearms (penchant for antique bolt-actions), and old cars. I think pre-1970 Land Rovers are pretty spiffy. I can alternatively be invoked by incorrectly stating what model of Land Rover Sniper drives. It's a bloody 1965 Series IIA!

DO NOT ATTEMPT ANY OF THE SHIT YOU SEE ME DO ON THIS BLOG. I AM A PROFESSIONAL AT WHAT I DO—ATTEMPTING TO REPLICATE IT IS LIKELY TO RESULT IN SERIOUS HARM AND/OR DEATH. DO NOT GO INTO THE OUTBACK UNLESS YOU ARE WITH A GROUP AND HAVE AN EXPERIENCED GUIDE WITH YOU.

If you wanna learn the rest of the lore, you'd best delve the blog. ;]

I can also be found on AO3 also under Blubushie.

A GUIDE TO MY TAGS

IMPORTANT BLOCK TAGS

blu lewd: Horny asks and reblogs of suggestive art. I'm making a tag for this since I've been getting so many asks from thirsty anons (I love you, thirsty anons). MINORS: BLOCK THIS TAG OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

haemocyanin: Usually reblogged gore art (blood is not included in gore, I'm talking viscera). Also includes discussion of gory topics. THIS TAG IS STRICTLY GORE. Please block this tag if that makes you uncomfortable.

blu slew: Discussion of hunting. May contains photos from hunting. This includes animal death/animal gore, so anyone who is uncomfortable with seeing this PLEASE BLOCK THIS TAG.

blu a fuse: Rants/sad hours/personal journals. Basically me screaming into the void. May include discussions of trauma so if that bothers you please block this tag.

blu jarate: Anything that mentions piss in referral to urine because it's brought up a lot on this blog (not in a kink way, just in general). Block this tag if piss makes you uncomfortable.

blu boos: A personal medical journal of sorts. Block this tag if talk of injuries disturbs you.

Postbin: Hate asks. Will probably include transphobia or homophobia or intersexism because people pick on the easiest things ay? Block if you don't want to see people clowning on me.

GENERAL TAGS

💙: Random thoughts or stuff from me. No worries, I don't ramble often. Also contains reblogs of things I just Vibe With that don't fit any of my other tags. Formerly #bluposting

blu news: Updates on my life. This may include failsafes.

blu zoo: Discussions of animals and plants. May contain pictures of things I see on my adventures!

blu whos: Answered asks. Please send me asks or talk to me in literally any way as I often spend weeks without even seeing another human out in the bush and let me tell you it is NOT good for one's state of mind. I may not like people but humans are social animals and it's a terrible Catch-22. Ask me about my work or life or my fic or about TF2 lore or Sniper or literally anything please.

abad: Discussions or asks from Ask Blu Anything Day, a monthly... Event? Where some of my ask rules are suspended. ABAD is your licence to go nuts in my ask box, and the rule of ABAD is that I have to answer everything honestly.

blu drew: My sketches. I don't do digital art so all of it is traditional and usually of varying quality. It's typically animals or plants I see out in the bush.

blu bushie: My adventures in the wilderness.

🍄🍄🍄: Contains discussions of drugs.

🍄: Triposting! These are trip reports from the times I get high on various different drugs, but usually mushrooms. Also contains any posts I reblog or make while under the influence of drugs. (Formerly #blu flew)

🍺🍺🍺: Contains discussions of alcohol.

🍺: Drunkposting! Contains any posts I make while under the influence of alcohol.

learnin the blus: Random thoughts/rambles regarding my fic.

blu hoohs: NOT MY ART. Just stuff I've REALLY liked and reblogged. My own art is never tagged with this.

blus clues: Me speculating on headcanons and lore, usually about TF2. I love lore speculation.

sniperposting: Shit specifically about Sniper since I seem to talk about him so much. Also things from my life that Sniper would also probably do.

blu pew: Weapons, mostly firearms and knives.

bushman: Reblogs relating to survivalism, bushcraft, hunting, fishing, nature, and the land. Also includes reblogs of things related to these.

stockman: Discussing my former job as a stockman.

true blu: Things specifically relating to Australia. Usually cultural things.

code blu: Things relating to medicine. This especially applies to bushmedicine.

blursed: Reblogged shit that I think is cursed. Usually text posts, sometimes images.

blusome: Just uplifting things I see and reblog. Everybody needs some added light every now and then.

blu spew: Funny things. Titled for me spewing out my coffee in the morning when I see them.

blu polls: My polls.

blu views: The VERY rare occasions I discuss politics. Most of this is either about firearms or rarely nature conservation.

mistyposting: Posts relating strictly to Misty.

moonyposting: Anything relating to Mundy, my emu. On this blog he's referred to as "Moony" so as not to have him confused with Mundy from my fic (or canon Mundy).

blu tunes: Anything relating to music.

blu chew: Anything relating to food.

ford blu: Anything relating to cars.

blu id: Posts where people ask me to identify animals and plants.

blu marbled jack: Anything relating to Jack. This is because I once saw him eat an entire block of cheese.

ask game: Ask games I find.

answered asks: Answers to things I've asked.

blubook: Posts relating to literature. It's a pun about the Australian boobook, a type of owl. Get it? Because owls are smart? And it's reading? Nevermind.

fanart: Art specifically of me because I had one person do it (cheers Lilac) and now I'm making a tag of it just in case other people do more.

blucord: Discussing things that go down in the Discord server.

blu muse: Poetry I write (because apparently I'm doing that again).

blu misc: Anything that doesn't fit into the rest of these tags.

blu queue: Queued posts.

blu reviews: Submitted posts.

bluroarer: Things I'm tagged in.

smoke signals: Back-and-forth discussions in reblogs.

dozposting: Posts about my lovely lady, @eyes-like-iron-fangs-of-rust

horseposting: Me talking about horses. I fucking love horses.

dream journal: Where I log my dreams.

eminence: Me infodumping about DND/my DND character Redd (cuz Redd + Blu = eminence purple).

PMP: Info relating to my job as a pest management professional.

matildaposting: Me discussing my late 70s Dreamer camper or other campers.

🌌: Wereshitposting—late-night blogging I get up to when the world is quiet and I can't sleep.

Also I'm writing a Speedingbullet fic on AO3 because it's boring out here and I have brainrot so go read that I guess, cheers. Chapter 10 is my magnum opus.

Here's the link to the original F/M version of the fic, and here's the link to the M/M edited version of the fic. The M/M version isn't as good and there may be pronoun errors here and there because the F/M is my primary focus and how the fic is originally written. The M/M version is also discontinued at Chapter 7 as I couldn't work Jesse's backstory properly into Jake. Sorry, folks.

If you're looking to do fanart or something I have a reference for Jesse and Suki. I also have an appearance detail for the rest of BLU team. (If you do fanart of Jesse and Mundy together I will love you forever and ever.)

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