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lewisvinga · 4 months

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west coast | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

warnings; mentions of drinking

notes; he’s so sexy , i know my goat is gonna look sexy asf in that ferrari red

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

word count; 1.3k

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

f1 masterlist !

“I’m sorry, Lewis. It’s for the best and you know this.” Y/n wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks as she holds on tightly to her suitcase filled with her closeness.

Lewis lets out a disappointed sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she had to finish her degree which meant everything to her. But finishing her degree meant she couldn’t follow him around the world anymore. It meant that they needed to have a break.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Hard being away from each other.”

“Yeah.” He responds with a deep chuckle. “Honestly, I got this feeling like it all probably would’ve happened later if we waited more. Probably would’ve been worse.”

Y/n slowly nods her head in agreement, not trusting her voice to respond for her. She leans down to gently pet the top of Roscoe’s head. The dog seemed to know what was going on since he refused to leave her side.

She gives the dog one last pat on the head before standing back up, giving Lewis a sad smile. “I guess, it’s time for me to go. See you around then?”

“Yeah, see you ‘round.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“This isn’t your usual club.” Y/n mumbles as her best friend drags her into what she thought was a normal club. Y/b/f laughs, hooking her arm with the confused girl.

“It’s an exclusive club! Celebrities and big names only. And it’s L.A., there’s gonna be many people here.” Y/b/f explains with a smile. Due to being a well-known influencer, she was let in along with Y/n who had a known name due to a previous relationship.

“Now, drinks?”

“Y/b/f, I have to study for an exam all day tomorrow. No can do.”

“If you’re not drinkin’, then you’re not playin’!” Y/b/f exclaims over the loud music as they make their way to the bar. “C’mon, I know you’ve got the music in you. Don’t you?” She adds with a smile.

Y/n let out a sigh before a smile crept up on her lips. “Just one drink, Y/n. Just one.” She knew that it wouldn’t be just one. She knew that she’d wake up with a hangover but it was Los Angeles, she couldn’t miss the chance to party in Los Angeles.

“Perfect!”

2 hours later, Y/n was already drunk and returning from the bathroom. She was stumbling out of the bathroom and was suddenly met with a familiar scent. She sobered a bit when she glanced up and saw those big brown eyes that she once and still adored.

She could feel herself heating up from seeing him a couple of months after breaking up with him. Her skin was basically hot to the touch. “Lew-Lewis.” She says with wide eyes, still tipsy.

“Y/n…” Lewis says in a soft tone. He was quickly as shocked, as seen by the way his eyebrows were raised up high. “H-How have you been?”

“Uhm, great!” She quickly says, standing up straight and fixing her short dress. “Was able to take enough classes this semester to graduate. Actually- you didn’t ask that. Ignore that. I- How about you?” The alcohol in her system made her rant a bit but it made him let out his signature laugh.

“I’ve been great too actually.” He replies with a smile, nodding his head. She noticed how his hair was styled differently. He opted for dark brown braids as opposed to the honey brown, a color she suggested a couple weeks before splitting.

“Your hair…” Y/n trails off, “It looks really nice.”

“Thank you. I mean, you suggested it so I decided to try it out.”

She smiles and nods before a silence falls over them. They both wanted to say something else but couldn’t figure out what to say. Although she was just months away from graduating, her heart still longed for him. And even if girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, he only wanted her.

“Y/n, I miss you.”

Panic fills her mind as she hears the words she has been wanting to hear. She wants to say that she missed him so much but something keeps her really quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still tipsy and wants to get drunk like she’s a lush. But in a panic, she blurts out, “Gotta go! Y/b/f is calling me!”

She turns around and runs back to where her best friend is sitting in a panic and with wide eyes. She sat down next to her and covered her face with her hands. Y/b/f was talking to an athlete when she noticed her friend's panicked look.

“What's wrong?” She immediately asked, focusing more on her best friend than the guy beside her.

“Lewis is here,” Y/n says with a sigh, grabbing Y/b/f’s drink and taking a long sip. “I need a drink, come with me.” She added, standing back up and grabbing her friend's arm, dragging her to the bar.

Another hour had passed and the club was getting hot. A little too hot for Y/n’s liking. She could feel her blown-out hair starting to frizz up, her mascara was slightly smudged in the corner of her eyes, and she felt hotter than fire. She needed to go outside.

Fortunately, she noticed a balcony outside before entering the club. So, she followed a set of stairs by the bathroom which led right to the grand balcony. There were a few people there, some with drinks and some with parliaments on fire in hand.

Before she could open the door, her eyes landed on once again, a familiar set of crinkled brown eyes and a wide smile. Her once sweet boy swayed along to the music. Maybe it was the fact she had more alcohol in her system, but she wanted to go up to him.

Y/n takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the balcony. She didn’t realize how hard she had opened it until she saw him look right at her. The person he was talking to backed away, immediately recognizing her.

She slowly walks over to him, her heels clicking along. “Lewis.” She quietly says once she stood in front of him. He stood up straighter as his eyes furrowed up in confusion.

“Y/n-“

“I miss you too.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I mean, yeah, but you made me panic when you said that,” Y/n sighs, fiddling with the gold rings on her finger. “And now I’ve had a lot more to drink and it gave me the courage to and I know it’s stupid. Missing you when I was the one to end things for my studies, which have been going well anyway. I’m about to graduate and I still miss you, Lewis. I thought that my desire was to settle down to finish my degree but it wasn’t. It’s you I desire.”

Silence fell over them for a minute. She immediately began to regret everything she said. The regret caused her to sober up again. She opened her mouth to apologize but before she could, Lewis pulled her closer by her waist and kissed her plump lips.

Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, finally getting what she wanted, what they both wanted. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers and keeps his hands on her waist.

“Come back to me, love.”

“Lewis, I’ll go running back to you any day.”

Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle before leaning back a bit. He wore a smile so wide that he couldn’t even bother trying to contain it. “How about we get out of here?”

Y/n’s smile matched his as she nodded in response. “I like that.” She whispers, grasping his hand. Looks like down on the West Coast, things will actually turn out alright.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton scenarios

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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months

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warning: pregnancy, Kurapika won’t let you give the baby up for adoption, obsessive and possessive behavior, reader is kidnapped

Imagine having a one night stand with Yandere!Kurapika and he ghosts you after… only to come to your door with chocolates and flowers after you tell him you’re pregnant.

It’s not like he didn’t like you, no Kurapika was beyond thrilled to have you in his bed, but he also knew that trying to stay with you would only get in the way of his goals. So, although it hurt, he decided to cut you off. He got to be with you for one amazing night, and he’d cherish that forever.

Well… his life changed when you sent him a picture of a positive pregnancy test. You sent it in desperation, crying because you feared that one of the people you cherished had only been in it for sex. It hurt so much, and it was only made worse when your period didn’t come.

So you sent that picture, asking him to please help you, to tell you what to do.

And he didn’t respond, leaving you on read.

It was devastating, to say the least. You spent the entire day crying, stressed out of your mind. Were you really going to have to deal with this all on your own?

That’s what you thought, until your doorbell rang near midnight. You weren’t woken up, in fact you had been pacing your apartment for the past few hours trying to think of what you should do about your predicament.

So you walked to the door, eyes puffy and red from crying. “K-Kurapika?”

Behind the door stood the man that had been causing you so much heartache, your best friend of 4 years, Kurapika. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and in his arms were a box of expensive chocolates and a bouquet of elegant flowers.

“(Name), oh my angel…”

He stepped in, setting the flowers and chocolates aside before pulling you into his arms to kiss your forehead. Kurapika’s hand instantly settled on your belly, as if already checking for any changes in your body with his soft, warm palm.

“I’m here, and I’m ready to be a father. When I got your message I was ecstatic, I’ve always wanted to rebuild my clan-“

You pulled away, pushing his hands off of you. “Kurapika, where the hell have you been and why haven’t you been answering my calls? You can’t just waltz in here and expect me to be fine with you ghosting me!”

“(Name), love, I-“

“Love? I’m not your love, Kurapika. You pushed me away and left me all alone when I needed you most… how can I trust you to be a father when I can’t trust you to be here for me?”

Kurapika was silent, his expression unreadable as he let you continue your rant.

“You just… you left me after we had sex, Kurapika! You left me all alone… it made me feel like I was nothing, like you only wanted one thing from me.”

You teared up from embarrassment and frustration. It had been humiliating to wake up to an empty bed with not so much as a note or text from him saying where he had gone. And then he wouldn’t answer your calls…

“I’m… I’m sorry, (Name).”

You rubbed your teary eyes. “Whatever. I’ll carry this baby, but it’s going up for adoption. I can’t raise it alone.”

This made Kurapika freeze, his eyes going wide with shock and terror. “(Name)… no, you can’t be serious. It’s my baby too, we should raise it together. I want to be a father!”

“You gave up any chances of that happening when you abandoned me. I hope your mission is truly worth it Kurapika, because I want nothing else to do with you.”

You pointed to the door, your lip wobbling and your brows furrowed. “Now leave! I n-never want to see you again!”

Kurapika was oddly quiet, his now scarlet eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look this way before… he seemed… deranged.

“I’m not leaving, (Name).”

He grabbed your wrist with enough strength to scare you. Kurapika wasn’t hurting you, but it was obvious that he easily could if he wanted to. “L-let go of me, what the h-“

Kurapika tightened his grip on your wrist when you struggled, his face neutral. “(Name), this baby is mine, and so are you. Calm down, or I’ll make you calm down.”

Your heart started to race. Who was this person? You maybe have been mad at Kurapika, but you would have never thought in a million years that he would do something like this!

You were scared now, trembling. “Let me go… please, just let me go.”

He softened slightly, his grip easing up a little. “I can’t, (Name). You’re coming with me, it’s obvious to me now that I can’t bear to be without you. And now that I know you’re pregnant…”

His eyes darted to your belly, and he reached out a hand to gently caress it again. “I can’t let you out if my sight. You’re under my care now.”

Before you could protest, you felt yourself growing tired, your limbs heavy. He caught you in his arms and lifted you up, cooing softly as he caressed your cheek. “There, there, my angel. Everything will be okay. I’ll prove to you how devoted I am, and you’ll never want to leave my side. Just sleep, when you wake up everything will be better.”

And as you drifted off, unable to stay awake, you could barely make out the sight of his car… and two suitcases in the backseat.

‘He planned this… planned to… take me away…’

That was the last thing you thought before passing out. As you slept, Kurapika bucked you up, using a pillow to cushion your head. He still couldn’t help but place his palm on your belly.

“I promise… from now on, I’ll never let you out of my sight. You’re both my responsibility…”

From that day forward, you would never know true freedom again. Kurapika had you now, and he would never let you go. Not you, the mother of his child, the love of his life.

Together forever, that’s how you would stay. He was sure of that.

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somanyratsinthewalls · 4 months

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Heyy! I’m new here and I absolutely love your writings wksiwksjwjshe is your 300 event still open?

if yes I would love to req a cinnamon + poplar ! hehe thank you! (If it’s already closed then don’t mind me)

*HI sorry this took forever! But I hope you love it ;) Ace is such a filthy boy in this one, EYE certainly enjoyed it*

Pairing: Ace x Fem Reader

WC: 2200

Prompt: “Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…”

TW: SEX, shameless flirting in public, Ace being kind of a pervert, reader is a bit older than young buck Ace, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't) creampie (also don't) fingering, teasing, pet names, filthy language. the usual?

— —

You sat at your desk in the medical ward of the ship, up to your ears in paperwork. Blood test results to log, supply order forms to go over, you had so much on your plate and it was eating away at you. The rest of the crew was in the galley drinking but you were stuck working.

Suddenly the door to the med bay swings open and in waltzes the crew’s head doctor.

“Ok little chicken, that’s enough work for tonight.” Marco smiles warmly at you as he approaches your desk.

“Please stop calling me that." You sigh and rub your eyes. "And I still have more releases to sign off on, and the IV tubing we use for Dad is on backorder, so I have to decide if we go up a size or down a size and did you know-“ You ramble on and on while Marco rolls his eyes.

“I’ll handle it. Go out and have a drink.” Marco eyes your tired face. “Gods know you need it, kiddo.”

You sigh. You feign a smile as you rise from your desk chair, the joints in your back and knees popping from how long you had been sitting.

“Was… was that your back?” Marco asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. Shut up.” You say as you push your way out of the med bay. You follow the sounds of music and riotous laughter towards the galley and enter quietly. You slunk between the groups of pirates towards the center of the room and grab a beer from the barrel full of ice. You pull your cigarette lighter out of your pocket and use it to pop the cap off your beer. You stow the lighter back into your pocket.

“Hey, y/n! Over here!”

You turn around and see a somewhat intoxicated Ace waving you over to his table. He had that stupid, goofy grin on his face. You smiled back and headed in his direction. He was standing around a wooden table with Thatch, Izou and a few other Whitebeard pirates and nurses.

“Jeez y/n you look like you’ve been up for a week.” Ace teases you.

“I think I have, now that you mention it…” You say and take a sip of your beer.

“Man I haven’t seen you this down before, y/n. What the hell is going on with you?” Izou asks.

“Well, since you’ve asked! I’m exhausted. I’m bored. I’m stressed. I can’t tell if I want 5 more beers or to fall asleep on the floor! I am wildly overworked and under-fucked.” You finish your rant and slam your beer.

“Anyone else need another one?” You ask to the now silent group of people that surrounded you at the table. You were met with mostly blank stares, shocked at your sudden outburst. You turn and head to grab a new beer.

“I’ll come with you!” Ace is quick to join with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

He follows you like a puppy as you head towards the beer.

“You know I can help you with that, right?” Ace grabs your arm and pulls you to face him.

You laugh.

“I don’t really think Marco would trust you enough to run my blood tests for me, but thanks.”

“No no, the other part. The being under-fucked part.” Ace smirks down at you. Again, you laugh.

“Haha, oh yeah? What are you, like 23? Like you’d know what to do with it if you had a chance.” You smile playfully and wiggle out of his grip, finally retrieving another beer. Ace does the same and sidles close behind you on your way back to the table. Suddenly Ace’s breath is hot in your ear as he leans in to whisper something to you.

“Well I’ve got an 8 inch cock that might change your mind on that…” You stop dead in your tracks and your eyes widen.

“Wha-?”

Ace passes by you and goes to join the table again. “Only if you want, though! Come on, let’s have another drink!” Ace beckons you over like he hadn’t just whispered the most crude, filthy thing in your ear 30 seconds ago.

Convincing yourself you had imagined it, you snap out of your trance and return to the table to drink.

You enjoy a few more rounds of drinks and you notice with each beer, Ace slides his body closer and closer to yours. You could attribute this to the size of your party shrinking as people headed off to bed, but at this point he was basically pressing his side into yours, occasionally grazing his warm hand over your hip.

His touch was fleeting, but hot… it made you crave more. You found yourself leaning into him and he pulled you closer in return. He felt you shudder.

“Oh man, y/n, you must really be tired. Do you need help getting back to your room okay?” Ace looks down at you with a devious smirk. You knew what he was really asking.. and you were far too quick to respond.

“Yes, I think I’d like that, Ace.” You smile and he wraps his arm around your hip and pulls you away from the table.

Ace is all but giggling as he brings you back to your room, pinching and squeezing your skin anywhere he could tease it. He stops at your door and looks at you expectantly.

You laugh.

“Would you like to come inside, Ace?”

“Hell yeah!” Ace practically jumps into your room behind you and slams the door shut.

From the instant the door is closed, Ace’s lips are on yours. You barely had time to react to the kiss before he started tugging at your clothes. You laugh and pull back from the kiss.

“Haha slow down! We have all night Ace… I’m not going anywhere.” You purr at him and stroke his cheek. What a sweet, eager little thing he was.

Ace nuzzles himself into your neck and plants a wet kiss.

“‘M’sorry, just hate seeing you like this…” Ace continued licking and biting at your neck. You whimper. “Gonna fix it… gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Your cunt clenched in anticipated of what he was about to do to your body. Ace pulls your dress over your head and tosses it to the floor. He distracts you with more kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you. Ace kisses down to your stomach and gently pulls your panties down. You step out of them and realize you’re completely bare in front of your friend.

You covered your breasts instinctively. Those doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, who was coming up to meet your eye again. He pulls your arm gently away from your chest and smiles.

“Aww are you shy, baby?” Ace coos at you. You blush so hard you think your face might be on fire. Why was he having this affect on you? He was a young blowhard at least 5 years your junior, and yet he ended up with all of the control in this situation…

“That’s ok, come here…” Ace gets on your bed and sits up with his back against the pillows and headboard. “Let me show you why you don’t need to be shy.” He smirks and holds out his arms to you.

You lick your lips and climb into Ace’s waiting lap. He positions you with your back again his chest, sitting between his legs. This position reminded you how Ace was still fully clothed and you were completely naked. Something about being so vulnerable in front of him was intoxicating…

“Spread your legs, sugar. Show me that cute pussy.” Ace whispers in your ear as he pulls your legs over his own, spreading them as far as they could go comfortably.

“Ace…” You whimper quietly, trying to turn your head away. You were embarrassed at how aroused he had made you, all while barely touching you… but not nearly embarrassed enough to ask him to stop.

Ace wastes no time before his hands are on your dripping sex.

“Holy shit…” Ace glides a finger up and down your slit. “Look at how wet you are, pretty.” His one finger turns to two fingers as he collects more of your slick from your hole and brings it up to rub firm circles onto your clit.

“Ace! Fuck!” You throw your head back, body feeling like it was filled with static electricity. He had you so worked up that every little touch felt like it was amplified by 100.

“You’re so wet that I bet I could just slip my fingers in..” Ace smirks and swiftly plunges the two digits into your hole. You moan. “And I bet that if I do this…” Ace begins to firmly pull and tap his fingers into that delicious spot inside of your cunt. “… you’ll cum.”

“Shit, fuck, Ace! O-oh my- Ah! ACE!” You cry out and explode all over Ace’s arm and the bed in front of you.

“Looks like I was right, huh baby? That’s a good girl, give it all to me.” Ace playfully reacts as he rubs at your clit to prolong your orgasm.

“Fuck… Ace…” You lay heaving on your bed in Ace’s arms, the spasms from your climax finally ceasing.

You feel Ace smiling into your neck as he peppers it with sweet kisses.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with it, huh???” He chuckles into your damp skin.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You roll your eyes.

Ace gently moves you out from between his legs and he rises from the bed to remove his vest and shorts. You audibly gasp at the sight of his huge member springing free from its confines.

“Jeez you weren’t kidding…” You say softly, eyes not leaving Ace’s cock in front of you.

“I’m a pirate, baby, not a liar.” He flashes you that stupid grin again. “Now face down, ass up, sugar.”

You quickly oblige, grabbing a pillow to cushion your face that was now stained with mascara. The first thing you feel is a warm hand sliding up your spine and massaging your skin, then you feel the prodding of Ace’s thick cock at your sopping wet entrance, the heavy mushroom tip barely breaching your hole. Ace dipped his tip teasingly in and out…

“Ace…. please…” You whine as you push your hips back to entice him to fully enter you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you, you don’t ever need to beg for me, pretty.” Ace plants both hands on your hips and pulls your ass flush against his pelvis, sinking his cock as deep as it will go into you.

Strangled moans leave the both of you as he bottoms out. Ace pulls out slowly, looking down to admire the wet mess you’ve already left on his cock. He pushes back in and you moan again, squeezing him involuntarily.

“Gods you were right… this tight little pussy is under-fucked.” Ace speeds up his thrusts and you gasp, the wind nearly knocked out of you. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make sure that never happens to you again… gonna fuck you every day… make you feel so fucking good…”

Ace was slamming into you at an animalistic pace and you felt a second orgasm creeping up on you. You could feel the droplets of sweat from Ace’s face splatter on your back, as well as the crazed, possessive grip on your hips almost certainly leaving bruises. You couldn’t form words, only broken sobs and shrieks as your lover drilled into you, dead set on making you cum again.

Tears fell from your eyes against the pillow and you whined, so close to reaching your peak again.

“Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…” Ace coos at you. “Cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up, ‘kay sugar?” Ace leans forward and presses his chest to you as he continues his brutal assault on your pussy. He reaches one hand from your hip down and around to rub at your clit. The stimulation sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips through your whole body. “Ace!” You scream out and lurch forward, no longer able to hold your torso up with your arms anymore.

“Good fucking girl! Now I’m gonna make you mine…” Ace praises you.

You try to mumble out “please” but you truly have no idea if you were saying anything coherent.

“Haaa, fuck!” Ace cries out and spills his load impossibly deep into your warm hole. You whimper as you feel rope after rope of Ace’s hot seed filling you. Ace rubs firm circles into your hips as he calms down from his release.

Suddenly, Ace pulls out of you and flops back into your bed and pulls you to his chest. You nuzzle into his sweaty pecs as you throw a leg over his hips. Ace pulls the blanket over the two of you, briefly leaning upwards to make sure your whole body was covered and comfortable before settling back on the pillows.

“So you were serious?” You ask quietly.

“About what, baby?” Ace answers as he strokes your hair.

“About fucking me every day?” You chuckle.

“Mmhmm…” Ace kisses the top of your head. “Tomorrow. And the next day.. and the next day… and the next day… and the next… and…”

You hear Ace start snoring and smile.

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece fandom #one piece netflix #one piece live action #one piece fanart #portgas d ace #portgas ace smut #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x you #ace x reader #ace smut #one piece ace

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iamnotokaythx · 11 months

Note

just an idea:

reader “loses” miguel’s engagement ring, so he resorts to tattooing it on your finger so you can never pretend you’re not his 🥰

it could look so cool too with a red/blue/black design yknow?

anon i like the way your brain thinks. lowkey wanna do a pt2 where reader’s escaped him and is trying to cover up the tattoo to get rid of all evidence of him

cw: needles, tattooing, established relationship, reader has never gotten a tattoo/is a little afraid, yandere!miguel, gn reader, its all lowercase

—

“miguel, don’t you think this is a little bit much?” you ask, fidgeting with your soon-to-be inked finger.

“well, you lost the ring. this’ll make it to where you always have it on.” he replies with an innocent smile.

“i mean, we could look for it. and then we could put it on a chain?”

“true, but metal rusts. i’ve paid good money for a tattoo artist already. no whining.”

you decide to give up; it’s not like miguel is easy to sway when he’s set in something. the car pulls up to a parking spot in front of a cute mom and pop’s shop. miguel would have done it himself, but he has too shaky of hands and wasn’t certified—only the best for his darling.

the shop smelled like insence. you were led into a small room where a heavily inked person was sterilizing their needle. they turned back to you and waved you forward. “hi, are you mx. o’hara? appointment for 2:00.” they asked to be sure.

“soon to be.” you murmured, noticing how miguel grinned and stood up a little straighter as the artist referred to you as his spouse.

you sat on the chair and miguel offered his hand. post-eyeroll, you grabbed his hand anyways.

“i’m afraid of needles.” you warn the artist.

“it’s alright! many people are.” they promise you. “so low long have you been together? oh, and do you have wedding plans?” they ask over the whirring of the gun. they roll their chair to get right beside you, causing miguel to bristle a little bit.

“we’ve been together a couple years. our wedding’s planned for 2 months from now. they just keep losing their ring, and i like reminding everyone that they’re exclusive to me. we belong with each other.” miguel didn’t let you speak, too eager to inform even this random person that you are his and he is yours.

the tattooist glances up after miguel’s slightly creepy rant and laughs hollowly. “understood. well, you definitely do love them.”

“of course i do.” he snapped, earning a light hit from you.

“miguel. it was a compliment.” you scold him. he rolls his eyes. you squeeze his hand in anticipation as the gun touches down onto your ring finger.

“sorry.“ he muttered unapologetically.

on the car ride home, he held your hand in his and gazed intently the ring around your finger.

“it’s a little… vibrant.” he criticized, the hues being brighter than he envisioned. “the reds especially.”

“it’ll look more faded once it heals.”

“oh. good. not too faded though, right? i mean, it’s gonna be visible.”

“yeah. it’s a tattoo, miguel.” you remind him.

“ah. right.” he murmurs, still mesmerized by the ink. “do you think that artist was flirting with you? they were really close to you.”

“no, i don’t think they were flirting. they were hired to tattoo me.”

“right, right.”

“what’s your plan for after the wedding? get this one removed and then tattoo the wedding ring on?”

“…”

“that was sarcasm. and the tattoo was uncomfortable, i don’t want it zapped off just to replace it.”

“don’t lose your ring, then.” he flashed a cocky smile.

#tw yandere #—asks #this one was honestly so fun to write ngl #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x gn reader #miguel o’hara x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere miguel o’hara x gn reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o’hara x reader

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fuumiku · 6 months

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They’re really interesting foils in many ways. I’ve always thought that Marcille & Mithrun have underrated dynamic potential. Give me the cringefail dungeon lords. Give me the elves with ears-centric metaphorical self-image issues. Give me the academic elites whose deepest strongest desires will always remain unreachable and the only option is to turn to the corrupt forbidden fruit of a demon pact. I am so so normal about Mithrun and Marcille

I wonder if the resemblance between captain Mithrun and general Hagreus aka Marcille’s fave in Dalclan is intentional… They definitely look very alike. It could represent idealization vs reality? Something something the romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction vs a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever Hagreus is the general of. I feel like she never had the opportunity to notice the resemblance herself bc within seconds of meeting him he was wrestling her on the ground but. If she had… She would so think he should have been his actor in the tallman stage play of Daltian Clan in that new extra comic hehe. I love the little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped lmao.

This art is all silly and surface level but in my head mithrille is like so dramatic and I make up daltian clan level big plots with them gbdgd. I made a spotify playlist for mithrun if y’all interested, rn it’s mostly centered around cravings that consume and losing yourself and illusions inspired from his time as dungeon lord but it’s branching out. Varied vibes, levels of intensity and degrees of confusion and await you ✨ I would emotionally rant about Chainsaw Man ost lyrics and how they tie in with Mithrun and the winged lion’s relationship but this post is already a monster

I want more of these two please please please pleaseee just one or two interactions in the new canon content coming up… All they ever did was debate philosophy on desires and human self-fulfillment and try to murder each other, please… I never get to gush about them and I can’t shut up so if you want more thoughts I talk about them more below

To get a girl to peacefully accept arrest follow these simple steps: in private, ominously stand above her and forcefully interrogate her, while in public, tell her you’ve met before (untrue and also not a pickup line, you’re just face blind) and interrogate her with a thin veneer of decorum. If all else fails, threaten and follow through on said threat. My guy needs more than just physical therapy I’m afraid

Sorry if most of these were Marcille-centric with Mithrun standing there looking cool, if I were doing these more from Mithrun’s pov things would be like "She’s a bit much but I guess I don’t mind hanging around her." or "Oh you’re a half-elf? -insert elven supremacist rethoric-" or "I have to keep her from becoming demon stew." immediately followed by "Did someone say demon? Kill kill kill kill kill" since these are set prior to like really knowing another. Then things would be more like "huh she has bad tastes in novels but her magic research is pretty interesting" and "I’m lonely and don’t understand myself— Oh she loves talking about feelings? Oh shi-" That last one is an aspect of why I like Marcille and Mithrun’s potential dynamic lol. She’s very… Emotionally intelligent alongside being impulsive. You think you have no feelings because the world has beaten them out of you? Think again!! Marcille be upon ye! -In a therapy sort of way but mostly in a connecting with people and your own self through interpersonal relationships and talking kinda way. I just think a lively, upbeat, annoying friend way too interested in your personal life would do him good, the canaries are nice but like if Marcille went to prison and was a sort of extra new bunkmate I think that’d be interesting and fun to read is what I’m saying

Unlike Kabru she wants all the useless messy filler of his backstory, eating chips while listening. Like two chibi sets side by side, "me and my fellow canaries, name name and name-" "Hold on we don’t need to know that." Vs "Then we were to sleep on the third floor of the dungeon, which had the look of a mausoleum, and name and name got into a fight over the campfire placement." while Marcille is like uh-huh what next what next while kicking her feet. She thinks of pre-dungeon pompous Mithrun and is like omg you went through a character arc and become better as a person- and then he opens his mouth and she’s like nevermind let’s keep working on that. She would also go "ew ur hair is greasy" and give him a full hair care treatment. What I’m saying is I need them to be forced to spend time in a dungeon together and become besties through a life or death roadtrip

Marcille is insecure about her ears, long, like an elf’s pride should be, but rounder, inelegant. Seeing Mithrun though, the epitome of beauty, with his half-cut ears make it a sillier thought. Not sure if Mithrun is the best person to reconnect with ur elven culture with but it sure is an option Marcille would so appreciate being around someone both cool headed and kind, I genuinely think they’d get along, like not that Senshi isn’t that too most of the time but I think Mithrun would be in a way that’s more refreshing to her. I’d be so curious about them discussing Dalclan, I doubt he’d have read it but she could make him read it, maybe post-canon with the excuse that they’re trying to find him a new hobby hah. He’d tear into the writing and everything but it’d be a fun time, I like to think that it’d make him a bit less prejudiced. Marcille @ Mithrun "👉👈 Soo maybe you don’t know these books they’re pretty recent having come out 50 years ago but…"

I’ve been in a Mithrun phase I want to make and read Mithrun-centric fics and angst so baaad. I razz him a lot here but he’s literally a traumatized military man that became obsessed with revenge due to bad coping and neglects himself in the process idk not much for him going on and some of it is because he has to work on himself, but hey no one’s perfect it all comes from a place of love and relating though I prommy. He’s the one ungodly angsty squeaky toy blorbo with brain damage rep I have don’t take him from me

#Dungeon meshi #mithrun #marcille donato #I feel like i haven’t drawn in so long i’m so rusty #Mithrille #Mithrun x marcille #Marcille x mithrun #I finally did smth for these 2 yippee #Dust and dog hairs manage to get on my drawings while i take pics it drives me mad i can’t do this anymore sorry if you see any #Continuation of my Marcille: “LET ME LOVE YOU!!” saga #Sorry marcille i hate drawing your sleeves #There are a couple things I’m not satisfied with and might redraw at one point but i need to stop and get stuff done #Marcille has 5 cm of height on mithrun according to the adventurers bible neat #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #I’ll move those last two tags up when I get to my computer #Character playlist #I made a more formal mithrille post on another blog explaining what potential i saw in them just search in the ship tag if you’re intereste

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coolnameloading · 3 months

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Lute x Fem! Reader Part 2

Part 2 of Lute x Sinner Reader story yaaaay

Over the last few months, the hotel has been in what you can only describe as organized chaos. The hotel gained a new resident in Sir Pentious who was a spy for the Vee’s and then wasn’t or something. Charlie reassured you constantly that Pentious was not working for the Vee’s anymore and you had nothing to worry about.

But those sick fucks have been chasing you for longer than any of the other overlords so you’d rather be more safe than sorry.

After that particular event, you started to feel less safe in the hotel.

You heard Vox, he tried to infiltrate the only place where you’ve felt safe since you got to the literal hell hole and he tried to send in a fucking spy who Charlie just let walk in instantly after he had attacked the hotel twice.

Who knows what would have happened to you….all of you if Angel Dust hadn’t seen him planting those stupid cameras?

You love Charlie, she’s nice and she gave you a place to stay. Being mad at her is like being mad at a puppy but all you could keep thinking about for the rest of the month was wondering if Vox saw you.

If the Vee’s know where you are.

If they’ll come looking for you.

What they might do to you if they do catch you.

You had a close call with Velvette one time and one time was enough for the rest of your afterlife. Bitch tried to color-match your fucking fur! You’re pretty sure the only reason you got away was because she was drunk off her British ass.

Vaggie could tell right away that there was something wrong with you and tried to reassure you.

“He didn’t see you Chesh”

She whispered approaching you slowly.

“You don’t know that boss! What if he did? He could be on his way right now with the other two and he already beat the radio demon once! I need to lea-”

Vaggie cut off your rant by placing her hand on your shoulder gently and pushing you down to sit on the couch.

“Charlie and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We promised when you started staying here that we’d keep you safe and we will. You don’t need to run.”

“Thanks, boss… I’m sorry for freaking out. It just really shook me up, I guess.”

You mumbled out, blushing at how pathetic you sound.

You may not remember much about your life but you’re pretty sure you died sometime in your 20’s. Yet here you are whimpering pathetically and having to get comforted over a fucking video camera.

After that incident you became more jumpy, every sound put you on edge, and it was worse whenever you were around any form of technology that didn’t look like it was from before the 1980s.

The others tried their best to calm you down in their own ways. Angel Dust started leaving his phone in his room because you’d flinch every time he got a text or phone call from Valentino.

“Don’t make a big deal outa it, he was annoying me too.”

Husk would keep your favorite booze on standby at all times, when you’d thank him he’d simply grin at you and say,

“Us feline demons got to stick together.”

Alastor was happy to throw out any and every piece of technology that would make you tense up even slightly, which included most of Pentious’ weapons and very nearly his airship.

He obviously wasn’t doing it for you but it still felt nice.

“Don’t worry my friend! I’ll happily get rid of these infernal contraptions! I’ve always believed they lacked class anyway.”

Pentious recognized his part in your new-found anxiety and tried to gain your trust by handing his machines to Alastor with many, many, many tears.

“I am more than happy to…give up my arsenal as an apology for invading your persssssonal boundariessss.” He’d hissed out while trying to hold his tears back.

You couldn’t really be mad at him after that.

Nifty even volunteered to go out and ‘hunt phones’ for you.

You said no but that didn’t stop her from bringing you the….remains of some people’s phones.

“Sometimes I kill mother phones in front of their children as a warning to the other phones!”

“Niffty phones don’t have mothers.”

“Hehe, not anymore…”

Charlie was actually very happy to see how the others stepped in to help you and she was very proud of them even if their methods were…unorthodox.

But that lead her into a spiral. She was desperately trying to figure out why the hotel wasn’t working even though everybody showed considerable improvement.

This leads to her talking with her dad, which somehow leads to you being here in heaven.

“Um, boss why exactly am I here?”

You ask Vaggie nervously, glancing around at the pastel clouds around you. God you haven’t seen pastels in years.

Vaggie looks over at you and sighs, “Well Charlie figured you wouldn’t want to go out with the others and you wouldn’t like to stay in the hotel alone so this was the best option.”

You nod, understanding her point but on the other hand.

“And the…exorcists?”

Vaggie’s shoulders tense for a moment before she looks away from you and mumbles, “I have a feeling they won’t do anything even if we do run into them.”

You want to ask more questions but decide against it, today was stressful enough as it is without you asking stupid questions.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You whisper following behind Vaggie and Charlie as they enter the gates of heaven after another fucking song.

Is it just you? Are you the weird one? Should you be singing more often?

The three of you follow behind the two seraphim, Emily and Sera, while they give you a tour of heaven. Charlie looks completely enamored by the place but Vaggie looks annoyed, as if the pastel clouds had offended her personally.

And you…well honestly you feel a little underwhelmed.

Heaven looks like a glorified mall so far, a mall with strippers because there are way more people walking around shirtless than you thought there would be.

So you keep trailing behind Vaggie, Charlie, and the angels when you see someone who looks familiar.

She’s a cat demon like you, same color pallet and everything, except she seems much shorter and has a pair of pastel-blue angel wings coming out of her back.

You end up drifting away from the group and start following the small cat angel through the crowds.

Eventually, you get close enough to reach out and tap her but when you’re about to get her attention you feel a firm hand on your shoulder and you get pulled away roughly and pinned to one of the walls.

You’re completely disoriented for a moment and then you hear a familiar annoying voice.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”

You look up to see Adam and Lute, Adam has a wide smirk on his face and Lute looks….wow.

She’s not wearing her helmet so this time you get to admire her completely.

You’d probably be happier about her pinning you to a wall if she wasn’t also holding a giant spear to your neck.

Then again…-

Yeah, it’s still pretty hot.

#fanfic #lute x reader #hazbin chaggie #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin lute #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious #x reader #hazbin vaggie

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drewsbuzzcut · 7 months

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Under The Mistletoe

(through the years)

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: lots of alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions pregnancy, and some angst

year 6 takes place during their small breakup before they have Sloane

Year 1 (just boyfriend and girlfriend)

The amount of champagne you’ve had should not be allowed at a Christmas party filled with people your boyfriend works with- plus their family members.

You’re dressed in a soft, long and gray skirt, a black fitted short sleeve, and cherry red heels with your favorite red lipstick. Your hair is in loose waves, specifically styled to show off your diamond stud earrings Mat recently bought you.

You’ve been with Mat for less than a year, so to say you’re nervous to be around everyone he knows is an understatement. So far, everyone is nice and inviting. Sydney Martin has been a great friend and lovely enough to include you. Although you’re grateful for their acceptance, you still feel very overwhelmed. This leads you to escape to the kitchen. You find the bottle of wine you and Mat brought and pop the cork. As you’re filling your glass, Mat stands behind you just watching you be you. He loves that you’re getting along with his second family, and he loves that you know how to handle your alcohol.

You’re mid sip, when he comes up behind you, practically scaring you.

“Mat! You cannot sneak up on me like that,” you gasp, voice lowering when you realize it’s him who is behind you.

He wraps an arm around your stomach, pulling you close. His chin rests on your shoulder, allowing you to feel the vibrations of his laughter and to smell the decadent scent of his cologne.

“Sorry, baby. I just wanted to check up on you. Are you doing okay? You’ve had four glasses of champagne and now a glass of wine. Not that I’m complaining, though,” he whispers in your ear.

“I’m fine. I’m just really nervous, so I needed something to help with the edge,” you explain, melting into his arms.

“Nervous? Why? You’re perfect and everyone loves you,” he says with an effortless charm that makes you want to drag him into the nearest restroom.

“I barely turned 21 and you’re 26. Everyone here is more than likely older than me, so I just don’t want to be judged, or you be judged for dating me,” you rant, taking a long drink from your glass. You blow out a deep breath and cross your arms over your chest. You’re already thinking too much into it and you can feel the headache start to creep up on you.

“They don’t care, babe. They just care that I’m happy, which I am. You make me happy. I love you,” he reassures you, hugging you to his body and kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” and although you really do mean it, Mat can still hear the insecurity in your voice.

You squeal when he drags you away, still with his arm wrapped around you.

“Babe, you cannot move me too fast. I’ve had way too much alcohol for you to spin me around like a ballerina,” you giggle, your flushed cheeks make Mat blush.

“I have a surprise, though.” It’s at this moment you realize that he’s been holding something behind his back.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, rubbing on his shoulders.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs and you do.

He pulls you close, smiling when you giggle with your eyes closed. You’re about to ask him what’s the hold up, but he places his lips on yours before you can get the words out. You sigh against him, letting your arms loop around his neck. As they move, you can tell he has one arm up. You pull away to look up and you see the mistletoe dangling in between his two fingers. You smile at him, bringing him in for another kiss. If you weren’t already inebriated from alcohol, you would be from this kiss. His lips are warm and fit perfectly between yours. It still feels like the first time he ever kissed you, and you feel your body warm at the thought that Mat is the one.

“I can taste the wine on your lips. It’s sweet. You’re beautiful, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pecking your bottom one after he speaks.

You cover your blushing cheeks, but he’s quick to pull your hands away, wrapping them around his neck. He slowly sways you around, holding the mistletoe over your heads again and leans down to kiss you. This time it’s much faster and hard, but you stop yourself before you can shove your tongue down his throat.

“There’s a bathroom right down the hall, they won’t miss us,” he whispers in your ear, a hand going down to rest on the small of your back, borderline resting on the swell of your ass.

“Or maybe you can just take me back to your place and you can unwrap me. You know, as an early Christmas present,” you whisper close to his ear as you hug him. Your chin rests on his shoulder, so you try to seem as innocent as possible to everyone who is subtly watching the both of you.

“Deal. Let’s go say bye to everyone,” and again he’s pulling you with him to bid your goodbyes. The whole time you think about how romantic his mistletoe idea was. Your cheeks will never go back to their usual color, they’re stained red.

Year 3 (plus Nolan)

Nolan is only 7 months, but it doesn’t hinder him from looking around with wide eyes. It’s probably a blur of red, green, and dazzling sparkles but he’s intrigued. He continues to babble and laugh when people come up to softly tickle his tummy. Ever since having a baby, your hormones have been all over the place, so you’ve been especially clingy with Mat. He’s been a champ. He’s so good at showing just how much he loves you and your son.

Although you’re in the nicest red off the shoulder sweater and black jeans, you feel so uncomfortable. You’re worried about leaking breast milk, and you really just want to be in some sweatpants. However, you’re a hockey wag and you always want to support your man. You’re just glad he hasn't left your side the entire night.

You’re seated on his lap with Nolan resting in your arms. Every now and then Mat will press kisses to your bare shoulder, and it does wonders with helping you relax. Other than that, you sit and listen to everyone around you, chiming in when talked to.

After dinner, you spend the majority of the night laughing and talking at the table until a couple gets up to dance around as everyone laughs cheerfully. You’re so happy that these people are your second family. In the midst of all the chaos, Mat gets your attention with a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you,” he says loud enough for only you to hear.

“I love you,” you kiss him, but he pulls away quickly which makes you pout.

You watch as he reaches into his pocket, trying hard to dig something out. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally gets out the slightly crumpled mistletoe. You smile at the object and what it means.

“We’ll start with the youngest,” he says, of course referring to Nolan.

You lift him up and watch as Nolan scrunches up at the contact. Mat’s scruff is probably too much for him. You laugh at his little whines and your boyfriend’s pout.

“It’s my turn,” you jest, laying a hand on the back of his neck.

“I won’t keep you waiting,” he quickly pulls you into a kiss, getting too into it when Nolan smacks a tiny hand in his face.

You try hard to hold in your laughs, but Mat’s shocked expression is too good to not laugh.

“I guess, Nolie bear doesn’t want daddy to kiss momma. Sorry, barzy,” you tease him.

Mat pouts, similar to the one Nolan does when he’s about to cry. You’re mid laugh when he pulls you back in for another kiss. Both of his hands hold onto your face as you breathe each other’s air. This time, you don’t think twice about your tongue curling around his. You just let yourself get lost in him. It’s like a snowflake falling into the snow, it easily gets lost. It gets all blended into something beautiful.

“About to make baby number 2?” You pull away to see the Martin’s giving you both a knowing look.

“And if we are?” You joke, feeling oh so warm when Mat rests his forehead on your exposed collarbones.

“You might want to find a bathroom and someone to hold Nols,” Syd says.

“Noted,” you giggle at Mat’s minor input.

“Thank you for our mistletoe kiss, hotshot. I love you more than words can express,” you kiss him once more, but his smile is too wide for it to be considered a kiss.

Year 6 (partially separated with two boys and pregnant with your first girl)

You linger in your car, dressed in a silk black dress and gold, glittery heels. You don’t want to go inside and see Mat and your friends. You have to constantly remind yourself that you’re doing it for the boys. They love their dad and you don’t want them to not experience the holidays without him present- especially because he travels a lot. It takes the promise of only one glass of wine and an early exit due to the boys’ bedtime to get you out of your car. You move slowly as you gather your sons and enter the house that this years team Christmas party is taking place.

You’re instantly greeted with smiles and hugs, and part of you feels guilty for not wanting to come in the first place. These people have been wonderful to you. It hurts to think that soon they might not be in your life anymore, but according to Sydney Martin, there is no way she’s letting that happen.

When you meet Mat’s eyes, you feel the ache in your heart return. He looks sad and that’s usually a very rare sight to you.

“Hey, thanks for bringing the boys. You look nice,” he greets you, going in for a hug but you just pass AJ into his arms.

“Thank you. The boys really miss you,” you say.

Usually throughout the party, you two would be glued together at the hip, but this time you try to stay away from him. You just can’t be near him. You’re partially angry, still feeling petty, and you feel guilt for not telling him that you’re pregnant again. If you’re around him for more than 5 minutes, lips will start to loosen and truths will be spoken. You miss him every second of every day. Why did you think it’d be a good idea to come? You cannot put this much stress on your body. Not right now.

The entire night you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. If it were anyone else, it’d be creepy. Because it’s Mat, it’s warm and comforting. You pride yourself on the tranquil and normal reaction you have when he takes a seat next to you. He doesn’t say anything, he knows better, so you sit there in silence for what felt like forever. Each time he moves you tense up, and you know he gets bothered by the way he huffs. To end your misery, you decide to head out just a tad bit earlier than you planned.

You make your rounds to say goodbye, lingering longer around Mat so he can kiss the boys. He’s gracious enough to help you buckle them in the car, but your walls are going to continue to tumble with any extra second you spend around him.

When he buckles AJ in his car seat, you see him pull out that same mistletoe and raise it above the baby’s head as he presses a small kiss to his forehead. He does the same when he buckles Nolan in his seat, getting a more enthusiastic kiss from his oldest, though. You can’t stop the smile from forming on your face. Just because you’re broken up, doesn’t mean he can’t carry on his tradition with his kids. You’re actually glad he’s continuing it. It’s nice to know he still has some happiness this time around after everything that’s happened. He spends a few more minutes with Nolan and Angel, caressing their heads and kissing their chubby cheeks.

You don’t expect there to be any words traded between the two of you, but he does shock you when he pulls you into a hug. His arms are wrapped around your middle, and you can’t help but wrap yours around his neck. You don’t stop yourself from carding your fingers through his hair, only freezing when he looks down into your eyes. You can see the sadness swimming in his hazel eyes. You know you shouldn’t, but you reach into his pocket to pull out the mistletoe. You hold it over your head, hoping he doesn’t reject your request. That’s when you see it, the sadness gets replaced by a sliver of hope. He leans down and places his lips on yours so delicately like he’s afraid you’ll break. The kiss is chaste and cautious, but it still feels so good. You quickly pull away when your head isn’t swimming in clouds any longer. You wipe at your lips, that tingling feeling still lingers. Your heart starts to thump rapidly and you remember all the reasons why you shouldn’t have kissed him. All the guilt comes rushing back and it bites at you, waiting for you to break the shell of a woman you’ve become. You bid a rushed goodbye and hurry into your car. You needed to get away from him.

When you arrive at your other home, you feel horrible. There’s a nauseating nagging in the pit of your stomach and you know it’s because you let yourself kiss Mat. You let yourself get lost in him because it’s just that easy. When you go to bed that night you cry at the thought that he didn’t get to kiss your nonexistent bump, because he doesn’t know you’re pregnant. Then you cry because you’re willingly keeping it from him.

If only the future you knew that everything would get better in the next few days on Christmas Day.

Year 7 (married with three kids)

Mat, who is indeed involved in a conversation with Casey and Matt, has all his attention centered on you. You’re seated at the table, Sloane and Angel in each of your arms. You talk to some of the girls, despite Sloane’s happy babbles and AJ chewing on your finger. You look happy, and every time you pick up your wine glass, your wedding ring gleams, reminding him of just how lucky he truly is. If he looks to his right, he’ll see his oldest, Nolan, playing with the other kids and he finds joy that his whole world is in one room.

He departs from his small group, just needing to be close to you. You smile at him, cheeks heating up when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers into your cheek, nosing at your skin before he starts pressing kisses down the side of your neck.

You break out in chills despite the long sleeve you’re wearing and the second glass of wine you’re drinking. You raise your hand up, caressing the back of his head as he continues to show his affections.

“Shall we evacuate the room?” Sydney asks, causing you to giggle and Mat to hide his face in your neck.

You don’t answer, instead you turn your head to the side to lock your lips with your husband’s. He cups your cheeks, pushing his tongue into your mouth. After many years together, you couldn’t care less about those witnessing your heated moment, even more so now that you’re in your own home. You let out a very low moan when he sucks at your tongue. That’s when you know it’s time to pull away. Mat’s eyes start to get hazy and his lips get swollen and pinker. Plus all the hoots and hollers start to big your two little ones settled on your lap.

“Here let me have him,” Mat picks up AJ, setting him in Alexa’s waiting arms.

Next, he holds Sloane, reaching his hand out for yours. You give him a quizzical look.

“Follow me, ma’am,” he requests.

“Ma’am? What am I a grandma?” You tease him, latching your hand to his.

“Pardon me. Follow me, Mrs. Sexy,” he corrects himself. You blush at his words.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, though when you see the mistletoe ahead, you know just what he’s planning.

“You know, just our tradition. Grab Sloane,” he passes your baby girl to you.

You hold her with one arm wrapped around her small stomach and one hand resting under her butt. She watches Mat with wonder, reaching her little arms out to him.

“Okay, I need you to hold her up a little bit- yeah that’s good!” Mat says as you raise Sloane so she’s eye level with him.

He caresses her baby soft hair, softly pinching her cheeks to get a squeal from her.

“Kiss, baby girl,” he says, slowly kissing her lips. You quickly kiss her cheek at the same time. Sloane smiles and reaches her arms out to him, babbling more when she’s in her dad’s arms.

“Next is Angel,” he tells you, but you are already on your way to get him.

You hold up AJ the same way you did Sloane, and he squirms and giggles when you both kiss him on his cheeks. When he requests to be put down, you both watch him toddle back to Alexa to resume his nap.

You turn to find Nolan waiting patiently for his turn, so it’s not hard to bring him up in your arms.

“Daddy! I’m ready for my kiss,” he cheers.

“My big boy! I love you,” Mat exclaims kissing his cheek many times.

“Mommy, your turn!”

“I know, buddy!” You wait for him to turn in your arms and you press a kiss to his puckered lips.

“I love you both,” he sighs, resting his head on your shoulder, one hand rubbing at his daddy’s bicep.

“We love you, too, buddy,” Mat whispers, bringing the both of you into a hug.

“Can I go play now?”

“Yes, you can go,” you let him down, smiling as you watch him runaway.

He’s so big and it feels like it was just yesterday that you started this little tradition with Mat. Now, you have three babies who will soon be just as big as Nolan. It makes you happy, but it also makes you sad. You want them to stay little forever, but you also want to see who they’ll grow into.

“You okay?” Mat asks, cupping your cheek.

You nod, a smile replacing your frown as you place a hand over his.

“I just love you and our babies.”

“I love you guys more. Now, it’s time to give my big baby her kiss,” he says lowly, moving in closer.

“Oh… I can’t wait,” you whisper, closing your eyes just as you feel his lips connect with yours.

The cool metal of your wedding ring bites at his skin from where you’re holding him, but it feels like home.

a/n: This was fun and heartwarming to write! I hope y’all enjoy lovelies!! Also, I tried to follow along the timeline, but it may be slightly off… not a noticeable problem though!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

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formereldestdaughter · 2 months

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ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

#peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games meta #anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the #headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible #and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay #and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too #like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin #it’s not a formal brick and mortar business #it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about #without there being waste and while covering some of the costs #and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about #as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh #anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with #this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like #but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao

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perseephoneee · 3 months

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓘𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: sorry for the delay!! i'll try and get chapter IV out much faster

“He’s so infuriating,” you groaned, flopping down onto Ivy’s bed as she sat at her vanity, peering at you with amusement.

“But how was Thor–”

“He insults my wit, my wit,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “My wit is what makes me interesting.”

“I think it’s interesting you’re focused on Loki when his brother is the one that’s courting you,” Ivy mumbles, looking at her nails. You send her a glare, biting the inside of your cheek. You had come home from the races coursing with adrenaline. It was a lot more exhilarating than you expected, even if the company was lackluster. You hated the stares from the rest of the ton as you sat with the two princes. While you appreciated Thor’s company, having a verbal sparring match with Loki was not on your agenda for that day. Which is why the second you got home, you ranted to your sister.

“This whole courting situation is rather tiresome,” you groan, holding a pillow over your face. Ivy chuckles, grabs the recent gossip column (Lady Valkyrie), and sits beside you on the bed.

“You’re the talk of the ton,” Ivy sighed, slight envy in her tone. You sat up, looking at her curiously. “Everyone is gossiping about you and Prince Odinson.”

“I don’t want to be the talk of the ton,” you rub your eyes, glancing at the words on the page. Lady Valkyrie talks about your ‘spitfire personality’ in a way that gives you slight satisfaction. “Why can’t you be the talk of the ton?”

“Because I am not as interesting as you,” Ivy says, eyes bright as she looks at you. “And that is alright.”

“You deserve it more than me.”

“It is not a matter of being deserving; it just is.” Sometimes, Ivy could be wiser than you gave her credit for. You wrapped her up in a hug, resting your head on her shoulders as she patted your head. “There’s another dance happening today if you want to come?” Ivy looked at you expectantly, but you just shot her a look. “Or not.”

“Why are there so many events?” you inquired.

“I assume people are desperate to meet the one,” Ivy sighed, getting up and returning to her closet. She held up two different gowns, raising an eyebrow in question. You pointed at the right one and then went back to scowling. “You should go.”

“I’ve done enough socializing for one lifetime,” you curled into a ball facing the window. “I’m going to stay home and read.”

“Fine, have it your way,” Ivy hummed, already messing with her hair.

The truth was that you needed more books to read, having already exhausted your collection. Which in and of itself was a feat, considering you seldom ran out of books to read. You decided to take a self-care day, heading to the town and finding a new novel to distract yourself. The town wasn’t that far of a walk, and you needed the space to think critically about your situation.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Thor; you did. He was kind and courteous and found you attractive and not at all crazy (or he found you crazy but didn’t care). Still, you didn’t feel that spark. That sense of electricity that was described in your romance novels. You just felt…the same. You had never been in love, though; there was no barometer.

The air was crisp, and you enjoyed feeling the wind tossing your hair around. You gave polite nods to anyone you passed but generally kept to yourself. The bookstore was close ahead, though, and you were anticipating your next novel. Unfortunately, any chance of solace you had was ruined by the sight of a familiar raven-haired prince exiting the shop. You felt yourself glower as you approached, and he shot you a smile that read as anything but happy.

“All alone?” Loki asked, raising a brow as he looked you up and down. You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I’m allowed,” you went to move past him, but he blocked the entrance. “Is there something the matter, your highness?” Loki shook his head, moving out of your way. You pushed into the store, hearing the bell ring above your head as you headed straight for the section in the back left. You felt Loki follow you inside, trailing behind you as you started looking at different titles.

“I didn’t take you for a romance reader,” he said, voice close to your ear. It made you jump, and you turned to find him directly behind you.

“Do you have no sense of personal space?” you hissed, but he ignored you. Loki grabbed a book from right above your head, grimacing as he flipped through the pages.

“Terribly drab.”

“Bold of you to comment on what is romantic,” you snatched the book from his hands, hiding your grimace. It wasn’t a novel you would’ve chosen of your own volition, but you felt insistent on not letting Loki know that. You put the story back on the shelf, grabbing a different title instead from an author you admire. You appreciated that while the book involved romance, other storylines were going on that didn’t make it dreadfully dull. There was adventure, treasure, and more. Loki narrowed his eyes at you as you held the book to your chest.

“For a lady being courted by a prince, you don’t seem to be excited about the ordeal,” Loki exclaimed, startling you.

“That’s none of your business–”

“It’s my business when it involves my brother,” Loki leaned against a shelf, arms crossed and head tilted like you were a fascinating creature. You hated how relaxed he seemed, even as there was a split-second thought that he looked good posed against the various hardcovers.

“You don’t seem that interested in any of this, either,” you shot back.

“I’m not; people are boring,” Loki chuckled, a dark sound that sent chills down your spine. You fought the urge to shiver. “Let me help you.” You narrowed your eyes, unsure what he was getting at. “Whatever reason you are participating in the season, it’s not because of personal want. My father is eager for one of us to get married, and it won’t be me,” Loki sighed at this point, turning so his back was against the shelf and looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll help you secure my brother, and in turn, you help me get out of my familial expectations.”

“I don’t need your help with your brother,” you scoffed.

“Sure you do,” Loki smiled like he knew a joke you weren’t a part of. “Considering he could be courting another lady at any moment, your obstinance won’t get you anywhere. You’re also the…best choice.” He had to spit out his words at that like it pained him.

“Best choice?” Your words caught in your throat when Loki stepped closer, towering over you with the haughty air of someone who knew they held all the power.

“I don’t like you,” Loki murmured, close enough for you to hear every word. “But you’re more interesting than the rest of the ton. If anyone will join this family, I would hate for it to be one of them.”

“It sounds like you do like me,” you replied, heart beating slightly faster.

“Careful what you say, pet,” Loki stepped back, taking the heat from the air with him. Clutching the book to your chest like a shield, you carefully observed the prince before you. You didn’t need help, or at least, you didn’t think you did. You were under no illusions that you’d experience a love match. Still, perhaps Thor was your best option. It would satiate your grandmother, and you wouldn’t have to see her disapproving gaze daily.

“If I say yes…what do I have to do?” You whispered, eyes looking down. You could almost feel Loki’s satisfaction in a way that made you grit your teeth.

“Just wait,” he hummed. “You’ll know soon enough.”

“You’re terribly ominous.”

“Perhaps,” he grinned, his smile half-cocked and a serpentine glint in his eyes. It felt like making a deal with a demon, a promise that would only do more hurt in the long run than good. You can’t help thinking about your grandmother and this ridiculous expectation she put on you. You didn’t want to get married; you didn’t care. But the woman was more impatient than not, and you hated how she beat down Ivy for her inability to secure a match. It took you several seconds to meet Loki’s green eyes and even more before you could steel your mind into an impenetrable fortress.

“Then yes,” you mutter, eyes narrowed. “I say yes.”

Loki just chuckled. “Then let the games begin.”

taglist:: @gruftiela @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @saay-karani @choki.laufeyson

#my writing #my fic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #thor #thor odinson #marvel #marvel fic #marvel x reader #tom hiddleston

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vintagepresley · 3 months

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I saw a post this morning on IG about the toxicity that lingers in the Elvis fandom over there. I have to agree with everything that person has said. I like Elvis IG but also I feel like it’s not the most welcoming place either. I’ve noticed how a lot of the times it seems like a competition about who is the better fan or who’s been a fan the longest. But on top of that it seems like people only really care about their follower count. Basically use being an Elvis fan as a way to build their follower count. Some won’t even talk to you if they’re like a big account. But it’s the constant competition vibes I’ve noticed there. It’s so weird. Like since when did loving Elvis become a competition? Like who cares?

Loving Elvis is an all inclusive thing. There’s no right or wrong way to love him either. You’ve got those people who like to dictate what’s right or wrong about loving Elvis and how you should be loving him. Then people who’ve got issues with new fans. Isn’t him having new fans a good thing? Shouldn’t we be welcoming to everyone who joins this fandom? Just because you’ve been a fan longer than someone else doesn’t mean you’re better. Just means you’ve been a fan longer. Some of us didn’t grow up in a family who loved Elvis or listened to him. Especially if you’re a person of color because generations have been fed this lie that he was racist. But anyway, that’s a conversation for another time.

It’s sad that people aren’t more welcoming. Then those same people are the ones who wanna preach about kindness and spreading love all in the name of Elvis and then don’t practice what they preach. Instead it feels like you literally have to scratch and claw your way into being friends with people there. I get it people have their friend groups already. But damn. I haven’t experienced that myself because I’m an introvert and I only talk to people who talk to me. 😭 But once I do like you’re my bestie, lol. But I’ve talk to people there that have experienced the issues there.

I think that’s why I love the fandom here on tumblr. Yeah, there’s issues sometimes here and there. But not a lot. You’ve got people who are like some on IG who think they’re better. But no one is better than anyone. But I do feel like the fandom on tumblr is more welcoming and no one cares about how many followers they have or how long they’ve been a fan of this and that. We all just get along and obsess over the man we love the most. Which should be the only important thing not what being an Elvis fan and having a big account can get you.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I saw that post this morning and they said what everyone was probably thinking.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fandom

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bighitbabie · 24 days

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Chill Out! - Matt Sturniolo x Reader

A Smutty One Shot by @bighitbabie

A/N: Please don’t take this too serious- I wrote it in one sitting after rewatching the hockey vlog and getting all sorts of worked up 😳 The hockeyplayer!au is almost completely irrelevant in this, but I was just eager to write and post something because it seemed like a lot of people were down for hockeyplayer!Matt and I wanted to share the love 😙 This wasn’t planned or edited AT ALL, so I’m sorry that it’s almost definitely rushed and choppy, but let me know what you think, and if you’d be interested in reading more like this!

(18+ content, please be mindful and make good choices!)

As much as you loved Matt, there were times when you wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until his whole entire brain was emptied and rebooted. His anxiety for this game had been building up for weeks, and it had become all he ever wanted to talk about. It made sense, of course. His team, the Boston Bruins, hadn’t made it to the Stanley cup finals in five years, and they hadn’t won in thirteen. You knew it was a lot of pressure, but you also knew you didn’t want to listen to him ranting the whole night. He hadn’t fucked you in three weeks, and you were starting to feel like you might as well take up the position of a nun in a catholic church if you had to go any longer without him. You were zoned out now, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking about how bad you needed his cock as he went on and on about everything his team needed to work on before their next game.

“Matt!” you cut him off suddenly, exasperated. He was pacing the room, having left you on the couch alone what felt like hours ago.

“Hmm?” He hummed, starting to chew on one of the only nails he had yet to destroy.

“Will you please come sit down, baby?” You whined, looking up at him with what was no doubt a pitifully desperate expression.

“Y/N…” He started, and you knew he was getting ready to explain to you that he didn’t have time to sit and relax when there was so much to consider and work out before the game.

“No, Matt! I’m so tired of this! I feel like my fucking hymen’s grown back, it’s been so long since you’ve fucked me!” You declared.

“I-“ He stuttered, clearing his throat. You could see his cheeks getting red, and you felt sorta bad for being so ridiculously blunt. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve just been really stressed.”

“I get it, babe, but can you please just try to forget the worries tonight? For me?” You asked, but before he could reply, you added, “Why don’t you sit back and let me suck you off, hmm?” It wasn’t quite as good as getting fucked, but any interaction with Matt’s dick would surely be enough to hold you over for a while.

Matt inhaled sharply, choking on his spit and coughing a few times. It always made you laugh, the way he was so shy about anything sexual. That was only until you got him calmed down and horny, though. Once he was in the right mindset, his mouth was so dirty that you were the one blushing.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, okay…” He said, sitting in the recliner near the couch. You smirked, standing up sauntering over before dropping to your knees in front of him. “Fuck baby, you’re so sexy, you know that?” He praises, unzipping and pulling his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off entirely. “I can’t think about anything else when you’re looking up at me like the little slut you are.” He says, starting to loosen up.

“That’s the whole point, baby.” You half-joked, pulling your hair up and using the tie around your wrist to secure it. “You need to stop thinking about this game for a little while and let me distract you. You deserve to lay back and be worshipped, not be pacing back and forth all stressed out.”

He groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as you ran your hands over his thighs. Usually you would tease him, but by now your mouth was already watering, so you yanked down his boxers and licked your lips before stroking him a few times and putting the tip of his still hardening cock in your mouth.

He gasped again, gripping the arms of the recliner. With him still in your mouth, you moved one of his hands to the back of your head, encouraging him to push you down. You looked up at him through your lashes, taking in the sight of his blissed out expression, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You were so proud of yourself for how quickly you were able to get him mentally calmed down, and so physically worked up. It was easy to see that with every bob of your head up and down his length, he was slowly getting into the sexy dominant headspace you absolutely lived for.

“Fuck.” He moaned, opening his eyes and looking down at you. “You’re such a good fucking girl.” He grabbed your head, pushing it down and pulling it back in a rhythm that he fully determined. You had gone almost completely limp, letting him fuck your throat however he wanted. “I love you. You’re the only one who can ever calm me down, baby.”

You smirked, pulling off of him for a breath and a quick tease- “This is you ‘calmed down’, Daddy? I’d sure hate to see you worked up…”

Matt chuckled a bit, but roughly grabbed your head and pushed you down onto him again. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny. Why don’t you just shut up and let me use that mouth of yours for what it’s really good for?” It was a rhetorical question, seeing as he was already gagging you around him. He lifted his hips up the slightest bit at the same time he pushed your head down, and your eyes started watering.

“So fucking pretty.” He praised blissfully, bringing his other hand down to your face and wiping a tear with his thumb. “Can I cum down your throat, baby?”

It warmed your heart that even after being together as long as you had, he still always asked for your consent for everything. You tightened your lips, silently giving him the go-ahead, and he pushed your head down hard on him one last time as his cock throbbed and shot his cum down your throat. He kept you held down for a moment longer, then finally released you and tried to catch his breath. “Thank you, baby. I needed that.”

“I know, Daddy.” You told him, the tears on your face drying as you wiped the mixture of spit and cum off your lips with the back of your hand. “I always know.”

#matt sturniolo fanfic #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #smut oneshot

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madame-fear · 1 month

Text

Okay, so. Yesterday I received a rather extent anon message blaming me for, apparently, “not being neutral in the drama” because I’m mutuals with someone that had little involvement in the situation I think, and as I found out today, my mutual already clarified things and apologised.

I left my answer to the ask in the drafts, but today I opted to ignore the message and remove the drafted answer. I did this not only because I wanted to drop things already and not stir up any more shit, but also because I have a condition where I constantly tremble, and any extreme emotion — whether it’s good or bad — makes my shaking worsen to the point I can barely function even for basic things and I feel sick in the stomach.

It wasn’t worth going through that. I thought it would be better to answer ask messages of people ranting, or asking things about it that were within the reach of my knowledge.

Until today, that a burner account named @/quillantrophy (which, they accidentally exposed their real account @/wewereforever in one of their screenshots and now they both deactivated), thought they could do a “call out” post... Posting my answers to anon asks & basically treating me as a hypocrite over nothing?

And they said I should explain things because since I wasn’t commenting on anything they said on the post, I was “adding fuel to the fire” (that exact quote). I didn’t have time to explain things at the moment, but I do now and I will answer bit by bit. I will do this just to avoid possible misunderstandings.

I want to clarify that I don’t feel comfortable getting involved in things that I’ve never been involved in— and if I receive more messages about the drama itself, those messages will be deleted. I feel kind of bad about this since people have only been coming to my ask box asking thing about it confuses, or seeking comfort from the moment, but like we’ve been saying, it’s better to drop things already, and focus on the good things inside the fandom.

The answer to the post is below the cut. It’s going to be long, sorry, but I prefer to clear any misunderstandings. And I will highlight something extremely important down below, besides apologising deeply for any misunderstanding. And this is the last time I will be talking about it

“there’s no issue with this, but she claims to be neutral and is currently explaining/advocating on the situation whilst adopting this stance.” I am neutral on the situation. I will eternally remain neutral because as we’ve seen, neither side is good.

As I’ve said before, Cal had little to do with all of this huge mess. From what I learned today, she already clarified and apologised about the situation. Cal was dragged through the mud by both of the groups out of nowhere, and she also fell for their shit so she was fooled by them just like lots of other people— she told me herself.

“This is bullshit, there’s no transparency” huh? what does that even mean,, I just… Literally don’t have any involvement at all? What can I say or do about it? Both groups of people were already on my blocklist since last year lmao.

“She has connection to the drama purely through this even as she apparently didn’t participate — allegedly.” I’m sorry but the allegedly part is killing me too. I wasn’t even on their Discord groups, nor talked to any of the people involved, explain why the word ‘allegedly’ was even added?

also, how the hell am I supposed to be connected to the drama if, as you said, I didn’t even participate in it, only because I’m mutuals with someone who was named in it? What kind of sense does that make?

As I stated above, I am, and always have been a neutral onlooker about the situation, who explained the situation to the confused people, even posting the links with the full info and proof to not spread incorrect information accidentally.

“Does @bucknastysbabe even know or care you’re slamming her on main and then love bombing her the next?” Cal knows about all your post, and all my answers to each ask regarding the situation.

She knows I hadn’t seen her apology/clarifying video until today. She even cheered me up when I had an anxiety attack after this person made this post, only to then delete it and deactivate the account. So, yes, she knows pretty much everything and she knows it was a mere mistake of mine.

Then, the person posted this. I will show the screenshots of what they said, and what answered ask they were referring to using their own SS.

(sorry if the screenshot pics are switched of their right places) I had no idea that was a direct quote from Cal’s apology video, because I OBVIOUSLY HADN’T SEEN IT. I don’t know how else to stress this, but I’m not chronically online, and neither I see everything my mutuals post.

Either way, I literally re-read my own response to check what I had answered, and this was terribly misunderstood. The only response I had about Cal’s statement was “why am I not surprised?”, and in the rest of my response, I tried to be as neutral as possible— in the rest of my response, I was referring to the general situation of the drama, and in fact I was mostly referring to the things Bel, Fae, Em and Ange said + did.

But nothing else, thats it, because I wanted to speak about the situation in general and I was referring to the group of people— I didn’t name names and neither I referenced Cal’s statement any further. I deeply apologise for the misunderstanding, but sometimes I explain myself awfully mostly because English isn’t my native language.

if this was considered with any possible ill intention at all, I offer once again my most sincere apologies. I never had any bad intention, and the only thing I’ve been doing was answer the asks of the people who came to my ask box inquiring about what had happened, try to offer comfort to those who felt disappointed and heartbroken, and in general just try to provide as much positivity as I could amidst the terrible situation.

Some believe I was trying to gain attention from the situation, and that I was stroking the flames of the drama. I at no cost even thought of ‘getting attention’ from it, or that I was actually getting attention, I simply answered the messages I was receiving to interact with my own followers— I mean, it didn’t feel good to leave them hanging.

I do have to take responsibility that perhaps my actions continued to keep the drama up, but again, I never had this intention, and I’m terribly sorry if that’s what my answers and interactions caused.

Please I do hope you guys understand my point of view, and that I never intended for any of this to be understood in the wrong manner. I have to admit that despite all the lovely people and fun moments I had/have in the fandom, it’s also responsible for worsening my condition the 90% of the times due to the unnecessary drama, and this situation today made me feel extremely bad physically as it automatically involved me in a situation I didn’t want to be involved in, nor have anything to do with it.

And that’s why, from now on, I won’t be answering any message related to the drama anymore to not keep mentioning the things that happened. As I said all the way above, we should currently be focusing only on the good, positive things of the fandom— and hopefully, we will all learn to not be rude or gossip about other people over mere fandoms, or fanfanfiction.

Then again, thank you for reading and understanding. If I expressed myself wrongly anywhere in here, please feel free to ask me about it and I will glady re-explain it. I hope this can clear everything, and please, I don’t want to be involved any further in anything.

#fandom rants #I hope this cleared everything out. I am as polite and as clear as I can be about the situation.#important #✧.* amiraverse #hotd drama

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hannahssimblr · 3 months

Text

Not coming anymore

Jen’s text message comes in when I’ve already left the house, and I groan as I pull my phone out to see it on the screen.

Are you serious? I’ve already left the house, you have no idea wh-

I delete the message and phone her instead. She picks up after one ring.

“Jen, seriously?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“What the hell? My mom was going out again tonight and I had to sort a babysitter for Ivy. It took me an hour, and now I've already showered and changed my clothes. I'm on the way to the beach, are you seriously telling me I have to turn back and undo everything I've just done?”

A pause, “No, you can go. I just can’t.”

“Wh-” I fling my arm up and sigh. She can’t expect me to hang out with the emos without her. What if they get peckish and start eating me?

“Michelle isn’t allowed to go, so she doesn’t want me to go either.”

“Oh I see, so Michelle just asked at the last minute. And was shocked and appalled that she’s not allowed? How stupid is that, my god, she isn’t allowed to do anything. Why would she think her parents would let her do this without advanced permission seventy-two hours in advance?”

“Hey! Stop ranting at me! It’s not my fault! I told her I was going to go out anyway and she gave out to me and now we’re mad at each other, okay?”

“She’s miserable so she needs you to be miserable too?”

“Yeah, apparently.”

I scoff, “that makes no sense.”

“Yeah well a lot of things don’t make sense in Michelle’s world.”

I sigh and turn to face the sea. The sun has only begun to set and toss colour over the clouds. It’s a nice evening, the kind that makes you guilty about staying in, and so my annoyance at Jen morphs quickly into annoyance on her behalf. “Can’t you just come anyway?”

“No, I’m too upset now.”

“Jen…”

“You should go. I already told Evan you were going to meet him there, and you could probably use the fresh air and conversation… I can’t bear to think about you stuck in your room drawing your own fucking toes on an evening like this.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll still go.”

“Good, I’ll talk to you later, and you can tell me all about what happened.”

“I’ll come over, yeah?”

“If it’s not too late.”

“Bye, Jen.”

“Yep.”

Speaking of Evan, I spot him up ahead, dashing over the grassy bank towards the path with his dirty old school bag bobbing on his back. I call out to him but he doesn’t hear me, so stuffing my phone back into my pocket I begin an easy jog toward him.

“Evan,” I do a half jump onto his shoulders and he almost dies with fright, his knees practically going from under him, and twists around combatively to realise it’s only me.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, “Fuck sake!” He yanks his earbuds out, pulsing with the tinny beats of some pop punk song , “You fucking scared me!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I need to stop doing that, it’s just a habit.”

“Yeah, God.” He combs fingers through his floppy fringe and sets it in place in a gesture, habitual and a bit compulsive, that he repeats constantly.

I fall into step with him once he has gathered himself and I smirk, “Why are you so jumpy, Evan?”

“I dunno.”

“What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

“Nothing, I just… This is how I am. I don’t like it when people sneak up on me, it makes me nervous.”

“C’mon, it’s either that you’re afraid of getting beaten up or you’re afraid of getting caught doing something you shouldn’t, that’s what I think.”

“Wow, aren’t you full of theories?”

I laugh, “And related to all this, what’s in your locker, Evan? What are you always guarding it for?”

The corner of his mouth ticks up as he glances at me, “My locker? Do you really want to know?”

It's not like I care that much, because honestly, how exciting can it really be? It's the locker of a seventeen year old boy, so it probably contains a mouldy lunchbox and the crumpled remains of last month's chemistry assignment, but Evan seems pleased that I've asked him about it. I feign interest for his sake.

“Well, yeah, of course I do.”

He swings his bag off his back and fumbles through the front pocket. It’s got a huge ink stain on it and the zip has broken, so it’s just hanging wide open, “I’m showing you because I know you probably won’t tell anyone, you know, seeing as you don’t really have friends anymore.”

“Harsh,” I say, but not untrue. Even since the cowards from rugby took Fitzy’s side in our tussle over Alison’s nudes my lunchtime calendar has looked a lot emptier than it used to. Where there used to be banter at the picnic benches there is now... decidedly nothing at all, save, maybe, for a few unimpressed glances my way, an accidental or not-so-accidental shove against my shoulder in the hallway. Maybe my absorption in art is related to this somehow, but I haven’t been in the headspace to psychoanalyse myself that much lately. My mind is so full of values, tone, shape, and line quality that it has (blissfully) no room for other, less interesting things...

But, as it appears, this is interesting.

Evan pulls out a bag of pills, about twenty, all blue with little batman symbols on them, then digs his hand back in for another, this time filled with green buds.

I look at him and say simply, “You’re a drug dealer.”

“Yeah, man.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah, I've been at it a while now, I think I have a pretty good business going with it and all... So if you’re ever looking for something, you know…”

“You sell to Alison.”

“Uh huh,” He stuffs the baggies back into the front pocket after a rather over the top glance around him, like he thinks this empty street is suddenly going to burst to life with guards and sirens coming to hunt him down, throw him in handcuffs with a boot against the back of his neck and toss him in Mountjoy prison, like there are no criminals wanted more in Dublin city than Evan Henley and his fifty bag of weed. “She comes to me from time to time, not lately though.”

“Yeah,” I cough out a laugh, “I took your molly a few months ago. It was shit.”

He shrugs, “I get what I can get, not my fault.”

“Hm.”

“You could go to someone else, you know, but there actually isn't anyone else in our school, is there? I have a monopoly.”

“Fair.”

“You won’t like, tell Michelle or anything though, will you?”

I stare at him incredulously, “Michelle doesn’t know?”

“No, she hates all this stuff, like, she’s really strict about all drugs and shit and I just know she'll blow up at me and start shouting and roaring if she knew about it. I’d just rather not deal with it.”

I pause to consider this. It probably isn’t any real harm keeping this from her, is it? It’s not like she needs to know, and realistically if she did she would only freak out and and tell Jen, and then if Jen knew that someone close to her was in possession of any of this stuff she might-

“Yeah, no worries, I won’t tell her.”

He pats my shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie, so I guess we're real buddies now, “Ah, thanks Jude. Had a feeling I could trust you with this stuff.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #i'm sure this is a good idea #lmao #tw: drugs

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