#perfect freakin husband

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby talk.

about. you know how people raise their voices all high and squeal, and pout through their words when they talk to babies?…yeah? well imagine that with your husband, katsuki.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, baby talking (lots of w’s involved), cutesy speech, baby doesn’t have a name, new parents, reader is referred to as mommy, fem!reader, girl dad + pro hero!bakugou, uncle!deku.

you’ve always known your husband, bakugou, to be slightly rough around the edges. being the man that he is, and witnessing first hand every struggle he’s ever gone through, it’s hard to imagine him without his hardened outer shell. your katsuki has stood on the brink of death more than once — testing, fighting it… all while facing a world that saw him as good for nothing and evil. 

how could you expect a man like that to be anything other than defensive, brash and bold? katsuki bakugou can be a little harsh, a little too mean at times but that’s never deterred you from giving him all the love he thinks he doesn’t deserve. you’d give him all the stars in the sky if you could, and he would give you the universe in turn. 

he was far from cookie cutter perfect, yet, even with his bumps and sharp edges, katsuki tried to love you and let you in. still, you’d never thought you’d see the day when all of the blonde’s roughness, his bared fangs and callous tongue all melted away for another human being aside from you. 

for your darling baby girl. 

“who’s my ‘eepy lil’ girl? you are! yeah. you are, sweetheart. oh, what’s that? big yawn for daddy?” the blonde coos with a sunshine smile that lights up the entirety of his well-aged face. you’re still young, for parents of a eight month old but even you can see the way that his hair is slightly silvered at his undercut that’s growing out and there are finer lines under ruby framed eyes (the late nights and early starts are probably the reason for that). 

still, with all of this, and even with your genetics throwing a spanner in the works — your daughter is the spitting image of bakugou and he loves her. he loves her pale blonde curls, big bambi red eyes and her all the parts about her that remind him of you. 

pulling her from her crib to settle her on his hip, the bigger bakugou rubs the sleep from her eyes as she wakes up from her nap. “so freakin’ cute.” he hums, licking his thumb to wipe over the traces of tears on her cheeks.

ever since she was born, earlier and around spring time, bakugou has been absolutely obsessed with the tiny human version of him you'd blessed him with. he’ll be the first one up at the crack of dawn when she cries for her breakfast, he’s happy to carry around her dynamight themed baby bag and always apologises to you when you have to change her explosive diapers (or he just does it for you.).

baby dynamight goes everywhere with her daddy, she’d be on patrols if you’d let bakugou take her on them too. she’s absolutely spoiled as well, with more clothes and toys and itty bitty little shoes a baby of her age would need despite how often you tell your husband that she’ll just grow out everything. perhaps your little girl is more spoiled than you — not that you mind, because it only means you get to witness adorable moments like these each and every day.

“katsuki, she’s supposed to be lying down.” you remind him gently, stepping past the threshold of the nursery to be by his side. your daughter instantly reaches out to curl three of her tiny fingers around your index, drooling in content between both of her parents.

bakugou looks down at you with a distraught pout. “yeah… but she woke up cryin’ f’me so i came to check on my sweepy wittol pwincess.” you giggle at how high pitched katsuki makes his voice when he talks about your daughter, baby-talking her whilst waving her tiny little hand at you. “say hi to momma, sweet girl. say hi!” 

the mini bakugou tucked into his bulky arms lets out an excited squeal — though she’s quickly distracted by mapping her hands up and down the squiggly lines (tattoos) on daddy’s arms. 

“exactly,” you press, grabbing an uravity themed spit up cloth from the diaper station behind you moth. carefully, you mop up the drool tracks baby dynamight leaves on katsuki before dabbing at her chin as well. “we’re trying to get her to learn how to go back to sleep on her own. which means?” 

“leavin’ her to cry until she falls back to sleep….” 

“which is why?” 

bakugou’s shoulders sag in defeat. you know how much he hates leaving her to cry, it’s been difficult for him to adjust to not just picking her up whenever she needs or he wants to. “you invited stupid deku over ‘n daddy has to have stupid drinks with his big stupid broccoli head, ain’t that right gorgeous?” your baby grins with her gums again and bakugou blows a raspberry at her. “oh yeah? yes it is! look at that pretty girl smilin’, just like momma.” 

you know he’s trying to butter you up for more time with her — you’re a sucker for the father-daughter bond they have already, you fear that you might melt if you look at the two of them together any longer. they’re a sight for sore eyes, the two loves of your life cuddled up with each other, baby bakugou’s pudgy cheek resting on katsuki’s warm chest (no doubt lulling her back to sleep).

“katsuki please,” you plead weakly, ready to give up on being the rain on this baby parade so you can scoop your little girl up and shower her with kisses. “we have guests and she needs to go back to sleep. or she’ll be up in the middle of the night.” 

the elder blonde can’t help the proud smile that illuminates his face as he watches his two girls together — the way you fiddle with her baby grow to make sure she’s cosy. “s’okay, daddy’ll wake up for you, won’t he?” bakugou sways from side to side, toying with all the tiny features on your daughter before catching your exasperated look. “alright, fine. back to sleep we go princess. don’t mind mommy, she’s jus’ bein’ meanie who won’t let me show you off.” 

there’s a tender moment, where time stands still, while katsuki lowers his pride and joy back into her crib — fighting back what are probably tears as she clings onto every part of him, looking up at him with her matching big beautiful ruby eyes. he feels as though he’s looking into a mirror that reflects not only him but parts of you as well. 

“night night princess, goodnight! daddy loves ya—“

said moment is lost when izuku stops by the nursery on his way back down stairs from the bathroom. “wait, kacchan baby-talks?” 

“of course i do nerd!” bakugou’s head whips up faster than the speed of sound, and you have to refrain from laughing at how fast he goes from soft and tender father to deku’s public enemy number one. “she’s my fuckin’—”  the blonde pauses after receiving a warning glance from you. no cursing in front of the baby. “freakin’ kid!”

the number one raises his hands in surrender, sheepish laughter spilling out of him. “relax kacchan! i was only teasing.” 

“tease my ass! you go ‘nd have a kid with your partner ‘n see what it turns you into — in fact, ‘m surprised you don’t have a whole litter already. what with the way you two are fuckin’.”

“oh that’s rich coming from you, kacchan. you guys  literally conceived at my family barbecue last year!” 

“well you fucked on my desk. my desk. so it’s only right that we—!” 

while the boys bicker, you make quick work of ensuring your daughter is safely tucked in and her pacifier is popped into her mouth just in case she wakes up again and needs to soothe herself. stroking back her peach fuzz curls, you press a kiss to the soft membrane of her skull and pull back with a wistful grin while she drifts off to sleep again. her unfairly long lashes flutter against your hand, mostly inherited from her father.

“alright boys, that’s enough!” you whisper yell, hands still on the bar of the crib to make “don’t you see that she’s sleeping again? we wouldn’t wanna wake her up, right?” 

katsuki pouts. “you’re right, sorry, sweetness.” 

midoriya nods along agreeably, taking a peek at his sleeping niece from the doorway.“right! otherwise we’d have to send daddy back in there to save baby girl’s day. he can’t resist his pwecious gwirl.” 

“i said shut the fuck up, izuku!” your husband snarls, cheeks burning fire truck red. 

“yes daddy!” izuku bats his eyelashes at him.

“i’ll kill you, nerd.”

“i’d like to see you try, daddy!”

“boys!” 

you do try your best to intercept, but your daughter beats you to it — waking up with a fresh set of tears and a wail so loud it has two big, burly pro heroes baby-talking her in an attempt to get her right back to sleep.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou drabbles #bakugo drabbles #bakugo imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #angelshubnetwork

[thecharacterchronicler]

Insatiable (3) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)

Outline: Coriolanus is starting to lose control over his feelings for you and the way your driver seems to be flirting with you forces him to show him - and you - who you belong to.

Word Count: 4’626

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow should be a warning in itself, jealous/possessive husband, pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, public s*x (kinda), VERY FREAKIN EXPLICIT SMUT.

(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) (( Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top ))

Coriolanus had been up for almost 24 hours by the time he arrived at the party, ready to endure a few more hours of small talk, faked smiles and diplomatic handshakes. But at least, for the short few hours of playing games in the circus of Panem’s good society, you’d be by his side and that perspective strangely eased his mind.

He had arrived early, right from his office in town. He always kept a nice suit there, just so he could work until the very last moment before attending an event. Parties, dinners, balls… Those were wrongfully considered leisure time by those who didn’t know any better. In fact, such social gatherings among his peers were his very own version of the Hunger Games’ arena, where one wrong word, one missed opportunity, one hesitation could cost him his career. So, whatever happened, he made a point to never let his guard down. He had been standing by the opulent’s manor doors for a moment now, appearing to be waiting for his wife to arrive but really, he was carefully watching the entrance of every guest, arriving to the manor in an endless round of luxurious cars circling the magnificent fountain in the driveway, some of them having more trouble than others getting out of their cars and climbing the marble stairs that led to the doors, due to being dressed in unpractical but fashionable outfits.

He mentally took notes of who was in attendance, making a list of who he should greet once inside and what topic to address with each one, planning his entire conversations with them ahead so that he could be sure to make a good impression on everyone. If he couldn’t care less about the parties and the guests, at least they usually granted him perfect opportunities to shine and display his own talents, his manners and behavior always impeccable.

Coriolanus Snow liked being in control of the situation. In fact, he needed to be in control of every situation. And he was pretty good at it… Until a familiar car entered the driveway, circled the fountain and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The young, and rather good looking, driver that he had insisted on hiring opening the door for you.

The moment you stepped out, Coriolanus’s felt his spine straightening and held his head higher. You were looking gorgeous in the dress you had picked for the event, and he instantly felt a sense of pride at the realization that he would be the lucky man to have you by his side. With that, he also loved to see how everyone admired you, how women turned around to look at you, envying you. He could tell they wished they could either be you or be friends with you, anything to have the chance of being close to you. But he felt different at the sight of the men’s hungry eyes wandering down the lines and curves of your body. People could be obsessed about you but they needed to remember that you were his and only his. To hold, to touch, to kiss… To fuck.

He found himself biting hard on the inside of his cheek as he watched you carefully, torn between his desire to observe the way your dress stuck to your body as you walked with just as much hunger as the other men and his determination to keep a close eye on your personal chauffeur, not liking the way he was holding your hand to help you up and the way he wished you a nice night as soon as Coriolanus reached you, to take over in his stead.

Your husband had always been quite possessive of the few valuable things he owned, maybe it was an habit that had formed during the dark days, when he barely had anything to hang on to. However, those days were now long gone and he was wealthy enough to enjoy bragging about his most precious belongings, it just so turned out that you had became one of them too the moment you had signed your name at the bottom of your thick wedding contract.

“Mrs Snow.” He said, when he finally stepped next to you, watching with satisfaction as your driver retreated promptly.

He brought your hand to his arm, wanting to let you lean on him for more stability as you climbed the stairs together, your high heels loudly clicking against the marble.

“Mister Snow.” You replied, briefly smiling back at him. He couldn’t help but glance at you, noticing the details he had never paid attention to before, such as the visible beauty marks on your skin or the few rebellious strands of hair that had escaped from your elegant hairdo… His attention was so focused on you that he almost didn’t hear the Academy’s new dean and his wife greet him on your way inside.

He should be careful, he couldn’t let himself get distracted. What was the matter anyway ? He usually managed to attend these social events without having a single thought about you other than approving of how flawlessly you behaved… Was it because of the dress ? Or of what was hidden underneath its fabric ? Maybe it was because now he knew exactly what you looked like with your clothes off. Actually, now he even knew what you felt like, which was all the more maddening to him.

Of course, he had attempted to cure himself from his unexpected new obsession for you, tried to get you out of his head by pumping himself almost every morning in the shower, shooting his release into his own hand instead of inside your warm and deliciously tight body. But, unfortunately for him, it did very little to help him focus on his daily tasks like he should have, it was just good at reminding him of how your own hand had pumped him a few times too and by noon, he frequently had to lock himself up in his office just to release himself once more, each of his thoughts haunted by your image sitting on top of his desk or down on your knees in front of him, with your mouth wide open.

He walked you passed the doors, a couple of politicians instantly demanding his attention, to be greeted and to engage in meaningless small talk that would hopefully serve his campaign and reputation.

“Coriolanus! We were talking about you earlier today, we simply cannot wait to see what you’re planning for the next Hunger Games!” The oldest lady of the two said, seemingly truly excited about it all. “You gave us such a show last year !”

“I’m hoping to do even better this year… Unfortunately, as close friends as we are, I cannot reveal anything about it yet.” He replied, with a charming smile that made the lady melt for him, as expected.

“I’m sure it’s going to be a sight to see.” The other woman confirmed, a bit more coldly and way less enthusiastic than her partner. “It’s understandable that you lost the first round of the elections, people would rather keep you as head gamemaker for the games rather than see you becoming our new president, you’ve got an immense talent for entertainment.”

“I can assure you, if our people give me their trust to take care of Panem, I will keep a close eye on the Games, I know how beloved they are to our citizens and it is one of my priorities to make them even more spectacular in the years to come.” Coriolanus stated, diplomatically, although the woman’s remark grated on his nerves. He knew he had caused a revolution in the way the Hunger Games were perceived, he made them go from a barely noticeable event to one people looked forward to with such excitement and enthusiasm each year. By now, he was used to receiving praises for his brilliant ideas and his way of managing everything, he really was good at this, but despair seized him at the realization that being too good at his job might cost him his chance to become president.

Once the women left to join another conversation, you passed the luxurious entrance and into the vaste ballroom filled with music and expensive decorations. As etiquette dictated, you both walked straight up to your host for the night; Hilarius Heavensbee, to greet him and thank him for the invitation.

“I heard from Ravensill himself that you were preparing quite the show to entertain us with the next Hunger Games.” Hilarius told your husband, with a hint of jealousy in his tone. “Good for you that you found your calling, you’ve been doing a great job since you mentored that girl with her clown dress, what was her name again ?”

Hilarius stared at him defiantly, as if he was gauging his reaction to the mention of the tribute he had led to victory but he was skilled enough to not show any. Instead, he glanced down at you by his side.

“I’m afraid I don’t even remember.” He said, with a tight smile. His hand pressed on your lower back, an affectionate gesture that he felt compelled to do in order to make his lie believable.

“I guess it’s pretty irrevelant now.” Hilarius shrugged, glancing at you before turning his attention back to his old classmate. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves tonight.”

Your husband looked thankful for his polite way of ending the uncomfortable conversation. He led you away as new guests attempted to engage in small talk with Hilarius.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he was able to grab two glasses of sparkling champagne from a waiter passing among the guests. He handed one to you, knowing that you too might need a good dose of liquid courage for the night but instead of seeing the gratefulness he had expected on your face, he noticed your furrowed brows and tensed smile.

“What’s the matter ?” He asked you, realizing you still weren’t taking a sip while he had immediately chugged down half of his drink .

“Nothing, I just realized that drinking in public wouldn’t be ideal considering we’re hoping I’m pregnant.” You explained. “Not that it would be bad for the baby this early on but people would have a lot to say about it regardless so it’s better if I abstain.”

Coriolanus nodded, good at hiding how his heart had missed a beat at the mention of your potential pregnancy. He hadn’t given many thoughts about it until now, finally understanding a few of the implications of being pregnant for nine months would have on your life… Not only would you be unable to drink but such events would probably be a lot more tiring to you, maybe even making you unable to attend with him, not to mention how your belly would eventually get too round for most of your designer dresses and how your whole body would change in order to make you a mother.

He usually wouldn’t have minded any of it, but now, with his newfound interest in you, the perspective of seeing you pregnant was causing a very unwelcomed reaction inside his pants.

“Look, Moira Wingnut is standing by the buffet.” You told him, completely unaware of how his pants were tightening around his rapidly growing erection. “Id like to talk to her. She’s such a gossip, if I unwillingly let slip that we’re trying to conceive, everyone in Panem will know about it by tomorrow.”

He nodded again, as detached as usual even though he couldn’t have been more impressed by your strategic thinking when it came to controlling what the good society of Panem had to say about you, it almost rivaled his own penchant for manipulation.

He watched you as you crossed the room without him, putting your plan in motion as you even made a show of abandoning your still full crystal glass of champagne on the buffet table, for Moira to see and question. Not only were you beautiful, you also were the smartest woman he knew, a kindred spirit, except for the fact that you were incredibly pure, there was no blood on your hands, no mischievous designs in that mind of yours apart from a few ploys to control the rumours spread about you, truly you were something else. And you were his.

Straining against his suddenly very uncomfortable pants, he decided to walk away, finding shelter in the nearest bathroom before anyone could notice the visible bulge between his legs. He locked himself inside, splashing cold water to his face but it was no use. The erections that you caused were almost impossible for him to get rid of with cold water or singing the hymn of Panem in his head, the way grandma’am had taught him. The only way for him to get temporary relief from the intensity of his desire for you was to take care of it himself.

He sighed as he opened his pants. It was his second time today having to do this in order to function, at this point, he questioned if it even was healthy but what other choice did he have ? He needed to get rid of the very visible evidence of his desire for you so that he could get back to the party and mingle with all these boring and acerbic people, in hopes to win enough of them over before the second round of the elections.

He stroked himself a few times, fast enough to get over with it quickly but what really worked for him was to imagine you there with him, taking over for him, and when he reached his peak, he thought about how nice it would have been to fill you up with his cum again. Instead, it all splashed in his hand, a waste of his seed that belonged deep inside you… But would you only be able to keep up with how often he needed relief lately ? It was as if the more often he got to take you, the more his body demanded it.

He cleaned himself up and left the bathroom to join the party as if nothing had happened, stepping back into the crowd.

The food served was passable, and the conversations remained light and superficial. The mingling seemed to last forever and Coriolanus was starting to feel the muscles of his jaw twitching from fake smiling so much.

It’s only what felt like hours later, as the party was coming to an end that your husband was able to see you again, spotting you in the crowd as you were talking with your young chauffeur by the open windows leading to the balcony. What was he even doing here ? If he was planning to take you home early, he should have asked him first.

Coriolanus observed you, not liking the way you smiled at the driver. He wasn’t a politician but his employee, thus making him not anyone important so why did you bother being so charming and friendly with him ?

He served himself a glass of strong liquor and downed it in one gulp. He wasn’t the kind to drink at all usually, preferring to keep his head clear and focused, but somehow he knew he was going to have to be slightly inebriated if he wanted to finish the night without killing this man with his bare hands.

You laughed. Why were you laughing ? And he touched your arm, how dared he ? It was enough to convince Coriolanus to put a stop to this conversation and remind both of you who - and whose - you were.

He crossed the room with hurried steps, only stopping when his arm pressed against your shoulder, his body sticking close to yours like a magnet that had finally found its opposite force.

“Oh, there you are.” You said, smiling at your husband but surprised by how his hand found your lower back again, trailing a bit further down than before and gripping on the fabric of your dress, slightly scrunching it in his fist in an unusual possessive stance. “We were talking about the last Hunger Games, about how that tribute from District 10 fell to her death in the most ridiculous way, do you remember ?”

Coriolanus looked at the driver with his coldest stare. What did he think he was doing, making small talk with you inside the Heavensbees’ manor which he shouldn’t even have stepped in in the first place.

“Of course, sweetheart. Sometimes the tributes don’t need my help to be good entertainers.” He said, through his teeth, before glancing down at you with a soft smile. “I take it that you are ready to go home ?”

“Yes, I called on Marius because I’m feeling pretty tired tonight. But you can stay if you’re not done talking with everyone.” You explained, oblivious to the way Coriolanus was glaring at the driver, a silent death threat in his eyes. If you were leaving the party, than so was he, especially if the alternative meant leaving you alone with this man. Tonight, it didn’t matter to him that he had barely managed to charm his peers and convince them that he could do other things as well as he managed the Games. The only thing that felt important was making sure Marius knew that you weren’t going to find yourself alone with him anymore. Not ever.

“I’m feeling quite exhausted myself so I’ll leave with you.” He felt a twinge of guilt tug at his heart when he saw how surprised you were by his decision, making him realize that he really didn’t bother to come home to you often enough.

Both of you said your goodbyes to your host and some of his guests, followed by Marius who kept his distances. At least he knew his place. Then, once stepping into the cold night, you felt your husband’s hand on your lower back again, holding you against him tight enough so that you wouldn’t require the help that Marius was all too willing to give you.

Coriolanus hoped his warmth was enough to shelter you from the cold breeze that caressed your face, looking at you while you gazed up to the stars in the black night sky.

Marius led both of you to the car, and your husband made a point to open the door himself, allowing the driver to take his seat behind the wheel already as he helped you get in. He watched you as you sat on the leather seat, adjusting your dress to sit comfortably enough and he couldn’t help but smirk with satisfaction, glad he had managed to keep the driver from daringly lay a hand again on what belonged to him.

He sat next to you in the back of the car, signaling that you were ready to go back to your own manor with a simple but elegant gesture of his hand. The car took off in the dark night, silence reigning inside the luxurious vehicle. If you were focused on the landscape quickly changing outside, he couldn’t care less about it, his eyes fixed on you instead. With your attention on your window, he could shamelessly stare at how your dress had moved up your thighs as you sat, how your cleavage gently swayed each time the car drove over a bump in the road. If he would have been the one driving, he probably would have drove straight into them on purpose, just so he could watch this lovely spectacle as often as possible.

Realizing that maybe he wasn’t the only one painfully aware of how desirable you were tonight, he glanced up to the rear view mirror, unmistakably meeting the reflection of Marius’s eyes in them, staring at you a bit too intently for someone supposed to drive a car, and only looking away because he had caught him.

The anger that welled up inside his chest was unpleasant. He had felt it a few times before and it hadn’t ended well. But he couldn’t bare the idea of another man thinking about you. What if Marius pictured you when he pathetically masturbated in his delabrated bedroom ? Wasn’t it a privilege he should have been the only one to have, as your husband ? It made him sick to even think about the possibility that your driver’s friendliness towards you might have originated from more intimate moments shared together. Would you have given yourself to him ? A mere employee that he had hired in hopes that he would be able to protect you and safely drive you around town ? It had sounded like a good idea back then, when he couldn’t have cared less about how you spent your days but now… Now he wanted you locked up in a room that only he would have the key to, just so that he could keep you shielded from the disgusting thoughts other men might have about you… The very same ones he had whenever his blood stopped flowing to his brain and went down to his dick instead.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure if it was because he needed to mark you as his or because imagining the kind of things other men pictured about you made his own imagination run wild but there it was, the familiar tension in his pants, begging for relief. He placed his hand on your bare thigh, gripping more tightly than what he had wanted but the urge to show you, Marius, and everyone that only he could do that pushed him way past his usual boundaries.

You looked up to him with wide eyes, almost imperceptibly wriggling in your seat under his touch. He could tell you were silently imploring him but what for ? To put you out of your misery and fuck you senseless right then and there ? Or to not arouse your desire for him in a moment like this ?

Without anywhere to hide until he could be presentable again, Coriolanus didn’t even bother trying to hide his growing erection from you, actually bringing your attention to it as he stroked the bulge under his pants with his other hand. He wanted you in every way you’d let him take you. Only you could soothe the mad lust he felt for you. But if you minded your driver’s presence too much to help him with it, then he would take care of it himself, again, even if it meant having you - and Marius - as curious spectators.

He left out a heavy sigh when your hand replaced his, stroking him over the stretched fabric of his pants, and then another louder sigh escaped him when you deftly unbuttoned his pants to pull his throbbing cock out. He stared at the way you were touching him, your elegant fingers caressing him just the way he liked until he was rock hard and ready for you.

But he wasn’t sure if you’d be brave enough to let him fuck you in front of an audience, especially not if you had an affair with the audience in question. The way you were blushing on your seat, although you hungrily stared at his swollen member, probably remembering every time he had shoved it inside you, made him believe that he’d have to waste his release in his hand - or yours - again.

He glanced at you when you moved on your seat, taking a big breath for some bravery, before you lifted yourself up and scouted over to his seat until you straddled his legs. He brought your tight dress even further up than what it already was, uncovering your ass so that he could hook two fingers in your panties to pull them aside and give him access to your deliciously wet pussy.

He briefly threw his head back against the headrest of his seat when you slowly impaled yourself on his hard cock, burying your face against his shoulder to silence your sounds and attempt to forget that it wasn’t just the two of you tonight.

Coriolanus closed his eyes as you rolled your hips, adjusting yourself to his size, taking your time to really ease him all the way up inside you. With one hand on your hip and the other on your ass, he helped you move upwards just so you could bring yourself down on him again, sending a wave of intense pleasure through his cock when his length hit deeply inside you.

He kept supporting your movements, eager to make you go faster as you held yourself to his shoulders, still unable to look away from the crook of his neck. Not only did he think the way you were hiding your flushed cheeks against him was adorable but he also enjoyed the look of absolute mortification he saw on Marius’ face as the driver watched you from his mirror, the bumps and uneven speed of the car betraying how unfocused he was on his task now.

If he had had doubts about you having a forbidden affair with your driver, now it was pretty clear to him that you didn’t care. Wether you had already let him fuck you before or not, now all that seemed to matter to you was your husband and finding your own pleasure as you moved on top of him. Coriolanus felt the warmth and the tremble of your moans of pleasure reverberating on his skin. He so loved the sounds you made whenever he brought you close to climax, and knowing the driver could hear you as well as he could watch you, made for an opportunity too perfect to pass on.

You felt his rough hands in your hair, tugging on them to force you to look at him. Your face was flushed and your eyes were shining with the intensity of your pleasure, the loveliest sight to see in Coriolanus’s opinion. He brought his face closer to yours to press a ravenous kiss on your lips and as he moved away, a loud moan escaped your lips, causing him to smile with satisfaction before he glanced at the mirror again, making sure that Marius could hear how good he could make you feel.

He pushed his hips up to meet yours as they slammed down, the violence of your shared thrusts sending you over the edge. Your body trembled, your movements coming to a stop but you fought against the numbness that was about to invade your thoughts as you enjoyed your intense climax, aware that he still needed to cum inside you.

“Fill me up, Mister Snow.” You demanded, with panted breaths.

You wanted him to shoot his load deeply inside you, hell, you were even begging for it. For him to plant his seed inside you, to mark you as his even more than you already were. Not only was it a maddening thought to him but the way you had asked him, like a favor as you struggled to keep yourself focused enough from how tightly your walls were contracting around his cock caused him to reach his own orgasm without a single movement.

The relief he felt as he emptied his pleasure in you was nothing like what he had managed to reach when taking care of himself. His own hands could never replicate how good yours felt. You fitted him better than anyone ever did, like you were made for him to fuck into oblivion.

And as he held you tightly against him, allowing you all the time you needed to get down from your high - and him his - his racing heartbeat pulsating in your ear pressed against his chest, you realized that you had arrived home. And your driver was long gone.

Previously in this series:

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #tbosas smut #tbosbas #corio snow #coryo snow #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #smut #smutty fanfiction #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #spicy content

[kingkatsuki]

Lactation | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟, 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Kinktober masterlist.

Based on this silly post I made a while back!

Summary: Time alone with Bakugou has been few and far between since the birth of your son, the after affects of pregnancy have you feeling sore and lethargic- But your doting husband is more than willing to help you out.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of pregnancy, lactation, praise praise praise, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 2.3k.

“Why does he get to do it?” Bakugou’s chest was pressed firmly against your back as he hovered over you to watch his son feeding before bed.

“Do what?” You hummed softly, leaning into the warmth of your husband as your son latched on.

“Suck on these,” Bakugou palmed your other breast as you whined softly, a subtle ache ebbing through you from how heavy your chest felt full of milk.

“Katsuki,” You shook your head, smiling softly at your husbands childishness, “He’s a baby.”

“And?” He scoffed, holding your hips gently as he caged you between your son and the crib, “I’m just fu- freakin’ saying’ I was here first.”

Bakugou stopped himself from swearing after the side glance you gave him, knowing your husband better than he probably knew himself. A subtle pout etched onto his ageing features, tired eyes staring down at you as he kneaded your sore breast for emphasis. You did feel guilty that you’d been neglecting your husband since childbirth, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Bakugou was the perfect husband and father, reassuring you that you were still the most perfect, beautiful woman in the room even now. But insecurities would often plague your mind, and finding very little time for yourself since your son had arrived into the world meant that these thoughts would continue to fester at the back of your mind.

“Can’t even remember the last time I had these to myself.” Bakugou continued. 

“There’s no way you’re jealous of your son,” You laughed, leaning into his touch as he began to gently sway you from side to side.

“Ain’t my fault he’s got the perfect life,” Bakugou smirked as he pecked your cheek, “What I wouldn’t give to fall asleep sucking on these.”

He gave your other breast a playful squeeze as he raised it towards him before letting it bounce back into place. The wireless maternity bra you were wearing did little to stop the motion as you let out a soft gasp, milk leaking from your nipple and soaking the fabric. You were certain this was the least desirable you’d ever looked to your husband, with baby spittle and milk staining your shirt, messy hair and tired eyes. But Bakugou was gazing at you as though you were holding his world with your bare hands, keeping the moon and stars in the sky as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.

“They’re actually really fucking sore,” You whined as you lay your son back in his crib, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing back up. You didn’t even bother doing your bra back up as your breast continued to leak milk, sighing gently as your husband began pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck.

“Is he suckin’ too hard?” Bakugou nosed your cheek as he watched his son feeding.

“No, they’re just full.” You mumbled, “I feel like I’ve pumped for hours today and it didn’t make a difference because I’m still leaking.”

“Fuck,”

“Katsuki,” You chastised him for his language as he pulled back to give you an incredulous look.

“What? He can’t understand me yet.” Bakugou’s lips curled into a smug gin.

“If his first word is a cuss word I’m never speaking to you again.” You taunted as you turned to face him.

“You could never,” Bakugou teased, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Do you really want to take that chance?” Bakugou pecked another kiss on your lips before nuzzling your cheek, keeping his hand on your hip as he leaned over the crib to press a kiss to his son's forehead.

“Your first word is going to be ‘daddy’ ain’t that right?” He smiled sweetly, pressing a final kiss to the top of his head before standing upright.

“Or mummy,” You smiled softly at your baby boy, breaking off into a soft yawn as you covered your mouth.

“You tired?” Bakugou hummed as you nodded in affirmation.

“He’s been so fussy today, I didn’t get much time to myself.” You mumbled.

“Let me look after you, princess.” He took your hand in his as he led you towards your shared bedroom, the baby monitor in his other hand as he placed it down on your bedside table.

Turning his attention to you as he curled a hand around the curve of your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “Bout time someone looked after you isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Katsuki,” You gasped as he pulled you down to lay on the soft sheets, the top you were wearing riding up your thighs as you suddenly felt self-conscious about the stains against the fabric from feeding your son and the fact you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d shaved your legs.

It’s silly how shy you feel around your husband over your basic outfit, pulling your pyjama shirt off to leave you in a basic pair of cotton panties and a mismatched nursing bra. Motherhood made it difficult to cater your wardrobe to style over substance, the ache in your lower back had you choosing the most comfortable clothing you owned, but Bakugou thought you’d never looked sexier. The ethereal glow you’d taken on since pregnancy stuck around even now, your body truly a gift from the gods as he felt his cock throbbing with urgency between his thighs. But this moment wasn’t about him, it was all about you. Ignoring the throb as his cock leaked fresh pre against the fabric of his underwear as he leaned forward. Helping to undo the clasp of your basic grey bra as he watched the fabric spill down your shoulders, allowing your breasts to drop naturally as he moaned at the sight of them. How heavy they looked, your nipples darkened and swollen as you gazed up at him shyly.

“Katsuki, don’t stare.” You mumbled, but how could he not? When you were the one that carried his son to term, you were the reason his son was happy and healthy now.

“You’re so pretty,” He cooed softly as he began to press chaste kisses against your collarbone, following a path towards your sternum before nuzzling the valley of your breasts. Warm palms soothed along your abdomen, feeling your tummy where your baby had been for so long, “Tell me if I’m too rough.”

“Please, Kats.” You mumbled, pouty lips and furrowed brows as he leaned in closer.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had these to myself,” He murmured, nuzzling his face between them before moving to suckle on your nipples.

His lips slurp your breast as warm milk begins to flow, the sweet taste of it hitting his tongue as he moans against the soft skin. A large palm reaches up to take the fat of your breast in his hand, kneading gently to tempt more milk from your chest. There’s a part of him that feels wrong, as though he’s stealing milk from his son, but at the same time Bakugou loves every inch of you and he wants to take away the pain you feel when your breasts are heavy and lactating. So he continues swallowing the sweet milk that leaks from your chest as he switches breasts, his tongue swiping along the mess that’s leaked from your nipple against your skin. Groaning against you as he gently wraps his lips around your nipple, cheeks hollowing as his throat bobs. Your hands thread through his messy hair as your nails graze his scalp, brushing through the grown-out hairs of his undercut as you hold him in place while he worships your body.

“So good, Kats.” You murmur, your head writhing against the pillow as he gets another taste of you, the milk sliding down his throat as he groans against your skin.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He rasps, pulling back to gaze up at you through half-lidded eyes.

Squeezing your breast to watch the milk begin to trickle out of your taut nipple before he leans forward to lap it up. You can feel the heat beginning to rise between your thighs, the sudden realisation sweeping over you that you can’t remember the last time you’ve had the time or energy to be intimate with your husband.

His hardness presses against your crotch as he shows how desperately he wants you, urgency brewing inside him as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your panties. Dragging his fingers through your slick to feel how wet you are for him as he sucks in a breath. Two of his fingers slip into your wet, tight heat and suddenly he’s reminded of how gorgeous you feel wrapped around his cock. His fingers curl inside you as he continues to lap at your breasts, his tongue circling your swollen nipple as he tastes more of your milk in his throat. A slight lilt to your voice as you beg him for more, a keen sense of urgency to your tone as you try to tug at his sweats. Desperate to feel him deep inside you, to satiate the ache swirling between your thighs.

Bakugou pulls his fingers from your sex as you whine at the loss of contact. Moving to pull his sweats down just enough to free his aching cock before he wraps the same fingers coated in your slick around his girth. Giving himself a teasing pump as his leaking tip nudges your clothed sex.

There’s an innate sense of urgency as he curls his fingers into the hem of your cotton panties to tug them down your thighs, leaving them hanging around one of your ankles as he lines himself up with your sex.

“Please, Katsuki.” You slur, “I want you so bad.”

He presses the bulging tip of his cock against your tight hole as he presses his weight forward, feeling you slowly begin to swallow the length of him. Eagerly sucking him in as he cants his hips forward, so wet and pliant that he manages to bottom out with minimal resistance as he stills inside you for a moment to cherish the sensation of your walls squeezing his cock once again.

“Fuck,” He chokes out as your breasts continue leaking milk, the sight alone has his cock throbbing inside you as he sets a languid pace. Vermillion eyes meet your own as he rests his forehead on top of yours for a moment, surrounding himself with you, “Always feel so goddamn perfect, like you were made for me.”

Bakugou licks his lips as he watches your breasts continue to leak for him, the creamy milk a contrast against your skin as he hovers over you, slurping up the spilt milk as it’s still warm on his tongue. He knows he won’t last long, not with all the pent-up frustration and the saccharine taste of your milk on his tongue.

“You make me wanna fuck another baby into you, have these permanently filled with milk,” He groans around your nipple, breath coming out in heavy pants as he feels you wrap your thighs around his hips, angling his cock to have him delving deeper inside your wet, slick heat.

“Katsuki,” You gasped, the familiar sensation already swirling in your pelvis.

“Stuff you so full of my cum you’ll always be round and plump with my child.” He continued, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the swell of your breast, “You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart. So perfect.”

“Kats, I’m gonna—” You mumbled, feeling the coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as he alternated breasts, easing the tension in your chest as he released more of your milk from inside you. The pain dissipated as it was replaced with white, hot pleasure as you began to clamp down around him.

“You’re so pretty, so perfect, taste so good—” Bakugou continued to slur his words as his nose nudged your breast,

Feeling yourself slowly falling into your bliss as

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He sucks your nipple hard, causing you to throb around him as you feel yourself tumble into your bliss. Your walls flutter around his cock as he continues his messy pace, groaning at the way your body feels clamping around him, trying to milk him of his release.

Shamelessly searching for his own release as his balls start to tighten, the thought of fucking another child into you has his pelvis throbbing as he imagines you all round and full with his release. Cumming deep inside you with a grunt of your name as he spills hot ropes of cum inside your fluttering walls. Leaning on his forearms as he rides out his climax, fucking his release deep inside you as he imagines you pretty and round with another child. His thrusts slow to a gentle rut as he rests his weight on top of you for a moment, looking down at you with complete adoration as you gaze up at him towing tired eyes.

Bakugou groans when he pulls out of your slick heat, his eyes immediately diving between your thighs to watch the thick, creamy mixture of his release begin to dribble from your stretched hole. Fingers delving between your thighs to push it back inside you as he thinks about giving you another child, if you want— picturing keeping you like this for as long as possible.

“Do you feel better, sweetheart?” His nose nuzzles between the valley of your breasts as you both enjoy the quiet moment alone together, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive mounds.

“Much,” You whisper as Bakugou flicks one of your nipples playfully.

“Finally got my spot back,” He grins up at you from between your breasts as he nips at the soft skin.

“Until your son wakes up,” You smile softly, already feeling yourself succumbing to slumber.

“Better make the most of it then.” Bakugou rumbles as he wraps his lips back around one of your nipples.

#tw:lactation #trigger:lactation #tw:breeding #trigger:breeding #bakugou smut #Bakugou Katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #mha smut #Bnha smut #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #flashing lights

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Meet the Millers (part 1)

Neighbourhood dilf!Joel Miller x Reader

(AO3 mirror) TLOU Masterlist

summary: Your neighbour, Joel Miller, has always caught your eye. After a perfect storm of events, you end up in his house. Or more accurately, in his bed. 

warnings: pwp, at least half of this is just smut, fingering, grinding, squirting, dirty talk, eventual fwb, reader and Joel are oblivious asf, a bit of angst (bc i love any excuse for angst). 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this will be a (short) series! lowkey just an excuse for me to write fwb!Joel lmao. Also, don’t look too closely: it's an au set in 2004 cuz I said so.

wc: 4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knows exactly what he's doing. Joel Miller on Mrs Harris’ porch, in a tank top and snug jeans, wiping the sweat of his brow. Fucking delicious in the hot summer air. 

You're not watching, of course. Just…. checking the mailbox. It's not an excuse to see the way his arms ripple as he tugs at the cord of the lawnmower, or how his tanned back flexes in the sun. Nope. Not at all. 

You sidle up to the mailbox, giving discreet glances at Joel on the porch opposite. The rip and roar of the lawnmower is so loud, you barely hear him call out to you. 

"Hey neighbour!" He calls, giving you a wave. The hem of his shirt slides up to reveal his v-line. You make a point to keep your eyes upwards. 

"Hey yourself!" You open up the mailbox to find a couple of letters. Perfect for pretending like you weren't ogling the man opposite a mere few metres away. Unbeknownst to you, he chuckles at your attempt to distract yourself from him. He thinks it's cute. He jogs across the road. 

"I got something for you," Your eyes practically bulge out your head. "Think Sarah took your spare keys by accident." Oh. Oh. She'd been coming over to feed your cat for a couple weeks, whilst you were away. Procrastinating, as usual, you'd been putting off getting your keys back for the past week. 

~~~

You'd moved in about six months ago. As someone who worked from home, you'd quickly built an odd routine. Joel was in the same boat: a contractor, working odd hours, some days at home and some days working from 8am to 8pm. As a new neighbour, you tried not to make a splash - quiet and respectful in the quiet Texan suburb. No kids, no husband - just you and your cat, Arlo. 

You didn't ask for him in your life: sometimes seeing Joel in his yard or packing up his truck. Occasionally, you'd pass each other picking up the morning paper, or late at night after your runs. Sarah was the one to say hi first, complimenting your clothes just before a night out. You're waiting for a cab on the front porch when you see her. 

"Hey neighbour!" She called, her dad behind her slamming the boot in a huff. 

You wave back, dolled up in a little black dress and probably a little too much makeup. "Hey, yourself!" 

She jogs towards you. "God, that is a cute dress! I've been bugging my dad for ages to let me get one just like it, where's it from?" She knocks you off guard, stuttering as you tell her the brand. 

"Thanks, it's not too expensive either, and it has pockets ," Despite yourself, you give her a twirl, showing off its hidden feature. 

"No freakin' way!" Sarah smiles warmly, hand on your arm and introduces herself. "Sarah. We met at the potluck a couple weeks ago."

You furrow your brow. "Oh, the Millers! Of course, you brought the veggie hotdogs and grilled kebabs." 

She nods. "We haven't had the chance to say hi yet! My dad, Joel…" she turns to wave at the man who stands at the car, arms crossed like a gruff bulldog. "...he's not the friendliest. But Mrs Harris, next to us, says you came round and took a look at her computer. She said it was half dead and you fixed it up for her; you… work at a fancy tech company and you're really good at that stuff? So, I've got a weird question to ask."

"We were wondering if you could have a look at our new computer for us? I think we messed it up trying to set up and it keeps coming up with this blank blue screen…. no pressure of course! A-And we'll pay you in pancakes and coffee!" The young girl seems jittery, bouncing on the balls of her feet. You can't say no to her. 

"S-sure. I've got some time, tomorrow morning. Let's say… after 9? If that's okay with your dad."

She squeals, almost knocking you over in a frantic hug. "Thank you, thank you! Dad? Dad, guess what…?"

She bounds off into her Dad's arms, excitedly babbling about your conversation. You chuckle to yourself in the light of the streetlamps. You'd noticed him around, of course. He's the only one on your street the same age as you: the rest were old and retired. At the potluck, he manned the grill, reserved but skilful. A man of few words, but Joel Miller laughed and smiled like a hyena around his daughter. It was sweet. You were happy to help. 

The morning after, you felt rough, admittedly. Technically, you'd gone out for networking - strictly business. But one work drink turned into two, two turned into three; and then you were downing shots until 3 in the morning. The pounding headache at your temples seemed punishment enough. Shit. The time. 

You get to Joel's at 15 past 9, impressive considering that you were in bed 10 minutes ago. You're dressed in a light sundress and slippers, standing on the doorstep. You knock, and Joel opens the door: scruffy and in a t-shirt and low gray joggers. There's the scruff of a 5 o'clock shadow on his face; making him look rugged and good in the morning light. You're imagining how it would feel on your thighs, rough beard scratching at the plush skin, dragging your sweet cunt on the apex of his nose….. 

"Sarah's upstairs," He clears his throat, morning voice low and gruff. 

 "I'm not too early? Looks like I woke you up." You walk in and he points you up the stairs. 

"S'alright sweetheart. It's not a bad view to wake up to." 

You almost trip up the stairs at the implication. Joel's behind you, hand steady at the crook of your back to stop you from falling. 

"I j-just meant getting our computer fixed. Sarah's been so excited and I'm not good at that kinda thing…" 

"I get it. You're okay." You chuckle. He's beautifully flushed, hand snaking around the back of his neck to scratch at it nervously. "But is this all okay with you? She kinda ambushed me yesterday, and I can't make any promises-" 

"-she tends to do that. She looks at you with those big brown eyes and then all of a sudden…."   ...you're in your hot neighbour's house, on your hands and knees. To fix his computer, of course. "That's my Sarah. I'd be more scared if she wasn't my own."

You like her. She's buzzing through her door when you walk up the stairs, excited. She grabs your hand and leads you to Joel's office. "Morning! So, I've been fiddling around with the parts but I can't get her to turn on…"

"Her?" You laugh. 

"Her name is Carol, and she's basically my kid." She kneels at the wires under the desk. "Dad had no clue how to set this up so, of course, I had to do everything. See, with this cord…" 

She chatters as she explains her process. You find out she's funny, and bright: a smart young kid who sourced most of the materials herself. Frankly, she reminds you of yourself; a young upstart in college looking for an explosive new career. Under his desk, you trace the cables and explain what they all do, peeling back the clunky tower to find the source of the problem. Sarah listens, intently, asking you questions about how it all works - clearly inquisitive. Joel watches at the doorway, equally enraptured. The technical details all go over his head, but he softens when he sees Sarah so free with you. You laugh at her jokes and indulge all her questions, no matter how small. You are kind and patient with her, refusing to be patronising; engaging her at her own level. 

When you finish up, Joel calls you downstairs for coffee and pancakes, as promised. Sarah races down the stairs, and you trail behind her. From the kitchen, Joel likes the way you look in his home, in a pretty dress and a smile on your face. He shakes the sudden thought out of his head. 

"Dad, I swear to god, Lindsey's not gonna believe it. She told me about MySpace, but she didn't think I'd actually do it-"

"Lindsey? S'that the girl who came to your party, the one with the buck teeth?" He says, between mouthfuls of pancakes. 

"That's Linda, Lindsey's-" 

"The one in your math class, right? With the-" You put your hands up by head to mimic horns, pulling a face that makes her laugh. It makes him laugh, too. 

It's been a couple of hours, when you get back home. You collapse on the couch, warm and content. It becomes the beginning of a gentle back and forth with the Millers. 

~~~

"You alright there, sweetheart?" 

You've spaced out on Joel's sofa. Joel’s by the kitchen island, rummaging around the drawers and running a lazy hand through his locks. With the way his arms flex and stretch with ease, you’re left practically drooling; head swimming with all the ways you could make his legs buckle, or how his hand would feel between your thighs, or…

He cocks his head to the side in amusement. “Think I lost you again.”

Embarrassed, you cringe into yourself. “Sorry, Joel. Just thinking.”

“....about?” He prompts.

“Work. Mostly.” You lie. “Sarah, too. Thinking about if she knows you whore yourself out to the neighbours like this.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He keep his head down, pointedly.

“... I bet Mrs Harris enjoys the view, then.” You say it under your breath, but he hears and laughs. Quiet, at first and then roaring; laughing so hard tears form at his eyes.

“You're gonna kill me, sweetheart .” he laughs.

Time and time again, the pet name makes something at the pit of your stomach bubble. At first, you thought it was Southern hospitality, something you weren’t used to before moving down here. The doll’ s and the bless ‘yer heart ’s rolled off your back coming from everyone else; at the grocery store, grabbing lunch, at the bank. But coming from Joel : with a warmth that knocks you over every time? It would be the death of you, you’re sure.

“What’s she payin’ you, then?” 

His back is turned now, head into the depths of a cupboard. “..just needed to get out the house. M’goin’ crazy in here.”

You hum. “It’s quiet downtown?”

“Too quiet. The Kier contract finished a while ago, and now m’just twiddling my thumbs waiting for another one to tide me over.” He peeks out from the wooden frame. “I think I’m actually bored without Sarah.”

You giggle. God, he was such a softie. A couple days of Sarah at a summer camp and Joel seemed to be bouncing off the walls already. It was cute, even if the deep furrows in his brow made him look so frustrated. “I think if she heard that she wouldn’t let me live it down.” 

You’re up now, palms dragging along the surface of the counter, a grin as big as a dinner plate plastered on your face. “Wouldn’t it be such a shame if someone were to tell her…”

He stops, dead still. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You get a little closer. “I would.”

He narrows his eyes as you step closer, until the tips of your noses almost brush together. “You-”

“- would. ” You say, barely a whisper. Thick, long eyelashes frame the chocolate brown of his eyes: stormy, lidded. You can't help it, in the tension. Your own eyes flick towards his lips and you bite down words that are a little… inappropriate. 

Instead, you tap the drawer by your hip and open it up to a tray of knick knacks. In the rough and tangle, your spare keys sit squarely in the nest. Joel grabs them and takes your hand, softly, to put them in your palm. 

"You wanna stay? For a drink?" 

You cut the air with melodious laughter. "It's 11am, Joel."

Indifferent, he shrugs. "I've got some beer in the fridge, and an empty house. Could do with some good company…"

"...why not?" You smile. 

You sit on a battered loveseat outside, on his deck. The sun is shining, the sliding door open, and you're nestled in the cushions next to Joel. He sits closer than expected, a lazy arm draped on the back of the furniture and the other swigging a cold beer. You place yours in the gap of your lap, giggling at the way he clinks your bottles together. He makes you feel like a teenager, the meat of your thighs peeking out from your shorts and touching the cool glass. 

"Didn't think I'd see you out this morning.

"And why's that?" You ask. 

"Would'a thought you'd be nursing a pretty mean hangover." He shrugs. 

"Ummm…?" 

"I saw you last night," He explains. "Real late, stumblin' out of a taxi. You were wearing a different dress to the last time, so I just thought-" 

"Well, last time it was work drinks."

"S'always work drinks, sweetheart." Your heart goes thud-thud. Sweetheart. 

"Last night, it was a date." You see him clench his jaw and tense up slightly. 

"...But?" He prompts, taking a long swig of his beer. 

"But…" You sigh. "I got stood up."

He almost does a spit take, choking on his drink. His eyebrows are raised, confused. " Seriously? " 

"Seriously." You deadpan. "Probably should've known. He sounded weird on the phone a couple of days before…"

"-He didn't call you right before your date?" 

" God Joel , I know how it sounds, okay? Thought I was overreacting but I guess I'm not good at seeing red flags."

He deliberates for a moment. "Yeah, me neither."

It's your turn to be confused, and so he clarifies. "Sarah's mom."

Your mouth forms a silent Oh , in realisation. You put a hand on his arm, that flopped down by your side. "Was it just you and her in the beginning?" 

"Me and Sarah? Sure feels like it." He mumbles. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"She's a good kid." You say softly. "You did good." 

He grunts in affirmation before turning to you. "You're probably the smartest person I know. Sarah looks up to you for good reason. You dodged a bullet. That dickbag doesn't know what he's missing." 

"Thanks, Joel." And then you titter, softly. "Would've been nice to get laid, though."

He makes a face you can't quite read, so you nudge him with your elbow. "Not like that! It's just been a while with work and-" 

"You're okay, sweetheart." He smiles with a faraway look in his eyes. Unceremoniously, he downs the rest of his beer, and says something you don't quite hear. 

"I could help with that." He tucks away your hair absentmindedly, and rests his hand by your cheek.

"Huh?" You almost splutter. It comes out like an unintelligible garble. 

"I could make you feel good." A little louder this time, but low and sultry. The tips of his fingers brush your cheek. Honestly, it makes you short circuit, overloading your brain with a million ways to interpret his words. He takes your silence for a no. 

Apologetically, he says, "Forget I said anythin’-" 

You kiss him, impossibly soft at first. You lean into one another, gulping down air with the way your chest pounds. It could be the beer, or Joel, but you feel light-headed when you separate. He stays close, thumb on your chin and never once breaks eye contact. 

"Need to hear you say it." He strains. 

From your mouth comes the three words it feels like he's been waiting a lifetime for. You chew your lip, but without missing a beat you say what you both need to hear. " I want you ." 

He crashes his lips to yours this time, sloppy and needy and desperate. You want to swallow him whole, warmth radiating off you both. You're not thinking when you clamber onto his lap, dragging your pussy on his jeans. Groaning, he separates like it's all too much. 

" F-fuck, sweetheart. "

You're sure it's suggestive, in tiny sleep shorts and no bra, eaten up in a large t-shirt. The material of your panties have been swallowed up by your cunt, soaking wet. You need his hands on you, but he seems surprisingly chaste - having them rest on your back for now. Smiling into the kiss, you tug them lower and he squeezes the plush of your ass in response. You reward him with a moan and the delicious roll of your hips in his lap. Joel’s rock hard in his jeans, and you savor the feeling of it against your pussy.

“Want you to be more specific, doll. What do you want?” He pauses to nip at the juncture of your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You can’t think properly with the way his hands knead at your hips and your ass; strong, rough palms brushing against your skin under your shirt.

Without thinking, you croak. “Y-your hands. Need your fingers in me.” 

He groans, hips jumping up at your words, and then takes a moment with his head on your shoulder. Cursing, he lifts you up with ease so you're on his lap facing the garden. 

He slaps a big palm on the crotch of your shorts, making you jump. One strong around your waist, the others strums at your clothed cunt - rubbing you until you're soaked through. You turn your neck as much as you can to suck hickeys into the base of his neck. Flushed, you realise just how exposed you two are: with the slatted wooden fence barely covering you from view. All your neighbours had to do was step out into their gardens to see you writhing on Joel's lap. Against all reason, the thought makes you wetter, and you whine. 

Ever perceptive, Joel traces his hand around the waistband of your shorts. "You like this, don't you darlin'?" 

You whine when he dips his hand lower, barely glancing your clit. "F-Fuck… don't know.. what you're talking 'bout." 

His other hand snakes under your shirt, slowly but surely brushing against the apex of your nipples. "That someone could see us…"

"N-no, Joel-" 

"That someone could see you fucked out on my lap like this. Like a dirty slut…"  

"J-Joel-" 

"Can't go saying my name like that, sweetheart. Someone might hear you," He wrenches your legs open with his knees and finally, finally, circles your clit quicker. " Fuck, fuuuck, listen to how wet you are f'me. Prettiest fuckin' whore this side of town.…you make the prettiest noises.."

It's not fair, really. He kneads at your tits, sending pleasure up your spine at the way he manhandles you. He slips a thick finger into your hole and you clench at the stretch. The bulge of his cock rocking into your ass, his fingers at your pussy, and a hand pawing at your tits? You had no chance. 

"M'gonna cum, fuck , Joel m'gonna.."

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

His voice is low and tender, and pushes you off the edge. With a moan, your walls clamp down onto his finger, and you see white in the heat of your orgasm. It's been a while since you've cummed; usually a desperate hand in your pussy for a quickie every now and then; but the feeling is amplified 10 times as much with Joel whispering obscenities into your ear. You shake with the aftermath and pull him into a deep kiss. 

"You ok?" He asks, the concern making you laugh after the filth he had been saying mere seconds ago. You nod, smiling warmly at him in the morning sun. He gives you another kiss and then you jump as he slips another finger in you. 

"Wanna give you another one," Eyes lidded, he slows, waiting for permission. "And another, and another. As many as you'll let me."

You nod, gently, and he picks up the pace. His fingers go in and out of your sopping hole, thumb tightly on your clit. Joel's fingers are magical - unwavering and hitting all the right spots. He plays you like a guitar, listening for your moans and the way your body reacts - strumming this way and that to get you to orgasm. And you do, again, but gentler; bliss washing over you like the tide. 

He's your neighbour, and you've never seen him like this: in a trance-like state, moulded into you and hellbent on your pleasure. All you can do is sink into his embrace, drunk on him and the way his lips taste - beer and breathmints - in the airy light of the morning. 

He's coaxing you through your third orgasm when you feel it, a pressure just behind your swollen clit. Joel notices the way your legs shiver and the subtle shake of your hips. 

"You're so beautiful." He says, pumping faster. "Knew it when I saw you in that little dress, tits spillin' out and I knew it when I saw you today. You look so good with my hand buried in your cunt, humpin' my lap like a bitch in heat..."

"J-Joel I can't…"

"You can, baby, jus' one more." 

"I can't.."

"So, so close for me, please . Cum on my fingers f'me, sweetheart , please -" 

With a sob, you clamp down on his fingers once more. Your orgasm ripples down your body, like a tight thread snapped in a split second. Liquid gushes from your cunt; so much his hand and your shorts are covered in it. Did you just…? The pressure at the base of your stomach peters off, and Joel talks you through it. 

He covers you in kisses at the apples of your cheek, your forehead, anywhere he can reach. "Did so good f'me. You're such a good girl, baby."

You whine when he separates his hand from your slick. Groaning, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean; of which his fervor makes you dizzy. All you can do is watch, exhausted but satisfied, through lidded eyes. He rubs your knee with his other hand. 

"Let's get you cleaned up." Nonchalant, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. You bury your head in the crook of his shoulder, embarrassed at the mess you've made. Joel only laughs, squeezing you into a hug. 

~~~

Simply put, he's a gentleman; making you feel completely at ease. He urges you towards a hot shower, with a change of clothes folded neatly by the door. It's his clothes - Sarah's were too small to fit - and they're big but familiar on your body. You traipse down the stairs in Joel's old sweats and a flannel, padding into the kitchen. Joel's at the hob, wearing a new t-shirt and loose tartan bottoms. You try not to think about how he was almost elbow deep in your pussy not too long ago. Or how he made you see stars more times in an hour than you have in months . 

"Just made lunch." He stirs at the pot on the stove. You sidle up to him, close but careful. He dips in a finger to the sauce he's making. "Pasta. Think it's missing something, though." 

Without thinking, you hold his hands to your lips and suck the sauce off his finger. "More salt, maybe?" 

He looks a little dumbfounded. Oh. Oh. God, you can't help it when he looks like that, stormy and brooding and… 

"More salt it is, then. You could help me finish it? I can put on a movie or somethin’."

You want to, you really do. It would be like heaven with your head on Joel Miller's shoulder, on the sofa - seeing him soft and domestic . Like a relationship.

"I should head home, I think." You don't exactly know the etiquette for one night stands. "Next time."

To be honest, you didn't even know if this counted as a one night stand? Just sex? Friends with benefits? Would there even be a next time? 

His smile seems rueful for a second before he nods. 

"Next time, sweetheart."

_

_

_

#HE'S SOOOO #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tlou #tlou smut #joel miller smut #fwb #pwp #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #kat_writes😼

[quodekash]

okay, two things to say here

one: pran's loving stare <33

two: HOW THE HELL IS PAT'S LEG DOING THAT??? HIS FOOT IS POINTING INWARDS

THE ENTIRETY OF HIS LEFT LEG HAS TWISTED AND ROTATED COMPLETELY???

AM I JUST LOOKING AT IT WRONG OR IS PAT A CONTORTIONIST

its entirely possible he's just double jointed. i also have a lot of double joints

buT IM STILL CONFUSED BECAUSE LEGS DO NOT WORK LIKE THAT

OH

WAIT I GOT IT

HIS TOES ARE TUCKED UNDER THE CALF OF HIS OTHER LEG

IM SUCH AN IDIOT

SORRY GUYS, FALSE ALARM

ah shoot i got distracted for an hour watching commentary youtubers

HE SAID THE THING

THE THING THAT THEY ALWAYS SAY

GNERJDKBSGF

IM CLAPPING MY HANDS LIKE A HAPPY TODDLER RN

BUT YOU ALSO SAID THAT

YOU ALSO CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM

TELL HIM THAT

OMG

DID TIAN FREAKING SPILL THE BEANS ON PAT??? THATS SO FUNNY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

his feet are normal again, dont worry guys

(guys being me. im pretty sure i was the only one freaking out about his foot but i just need a little bit of validation)

IM SOBBING

HE SAID IT

VOIEPSDHBGOVULJRBFGOBUVRPDOUFGVBNREDOUGJBVNEIRUJKDFBGNEVORIFDJLBGNBOIERUJKDFGOBIJKLERDFOIGJLBENRVOIDFJLGBVEOIRFDJLBNGBIOREJLVFDB

KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND

H EL P

IM NOT OKAY

AAAAAAAAAAA

HHHHHHHHSBGHJSDBFX

I THINK IM DYING

THEY MEAN WAY TOO MUCH TO ME

JUST FREAKIN KILL ME ALREADY

HOW DOES ONE DEAL WITH THIS

HOW DO YOU FUNCTION WHEN PATPRAN ARE SO FREAKING PERFECT

bro just looked directly at the camera

THEYRE SUCH HUSBANDS

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

is it love.

okay never mind, it's not love lmao

hell yes

husbands

such husbandly husbands

ERODJFLBHGNKJRDF

THEYRE ALL DOING THE 'I CANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU' LINE AND ITS KILLING ME, I LOVE IT

ah frick

im just remembering that thing about how heart transplant patients only live up to like 10 years after getting a heart transplant.

and that statistic is for people who listen to their doctors and dont go to a mountain and dont do exercise they should not and dont eat food they should not etc etc, so tian's life expectancy is probably even less than that.

ITS OKAY, LET'S IGNORE SCIENCE, WE'RE IGNORING SCIENCE

HES A FICTIONAL CHARACTER, SCIENCE DOESNT HAVE TO APPLY

NOT TODAY, SATAN

i hate you so much for this jude

why would you send me that tiktok

everyone spam @judebilation with hate for emotionally destroying me and also probably you

(im just kidding i love them too much to be super mad about this, and also FICTION MEANS SCIENCE DOESNT APPLY, WE DONT HAVE TO THINK ABOUT SCIENCE, so to jude: i forgive youuuu)

HE'S READING ITTT

PLEASE THE MUSIC WAS SO DRAMATIC THERE

IM JUST TRYNA EAT MY CHEEZLES MAN BUT I NEARLY CHOKED ON THEM

ITS SO FREAKING FUNNY

HOLY HELL

i finally finished the episode! it only took me (checks watch) 16 and a half hours to do

and if you wanna be nitpicky, technically it took 37 days and 30 minutes to start, and then 16 and a half hours to finish after that

and i still have an entire episode to go, so let's get right to it (after i pee and make a hot chocolate, cos i need emotional support)

#quodekash watches our skyy 2 despite desperately needing to sleep #our skyy 2 #our skyy 2 x bad buddy #atots #a tale of thousand stars #a tale of thousand stars our skyy 2 #a tale of a thousand stars #1000 stars #phutian #phupatian #bad buddy series #patpran #pran parakul #pranpat #bad buddy the series #ohmnanon #earthmix #ohm pawat #earth pirapat #mix sahaphap #nanon korapat

[connorswhisk]

Spiderverse: I’d love to see something with Miguel, Peter B. Parker, snd Mayday! Fully open to you pairing the guys but I prefer a poly/open relationship/amicable breakup to cheating. ❤️

hi thanks for the request! it’s not explicitly said in-fic, but peter and mj are poly here and there is no cheating :)

“Peter. Peter. Peter.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Sullenly, Miguel gestures to himself. Mayday has her legs draped over him, babbling happily from her spot atop his shoulders as her little pudgy hands grasp at his dark locks.

“Aw, get down from there, kiddo,” Peter says as he reaches over to literally pluck May out of Miguel’s hair. “Miguel’s trying to get some work done, you don’t gotta bother him.” Grinning, he lifts up her shirt and blows a raspberry into her tummy. May giggles, shrieking loudly.

“Thanks,” Miguel grunts. He’s never known how to act around May - Peter wonders if he was this bad when his own daughter was a toddler, but he’s certainly not going to ask Miguel that.

“She likes you, you know,” Peter tells him mildly. “I mean, she pretty much likes everyone, but that includes you.”

Another grunt. Miguel turns back to his screens.

“Man of few words today, I see,” says Peter dryly. Like Miguel ever has a lot to say about stuff like this.

“She’s sweet,” Miguel mutters. “She’s…cute.”

“Cute.” Peter smiles. “You ever think about getting a pet or something? I feel like there’s some mean old tomcat out there somewhere that would be the perfect companion for one Miguel O’Hara.”

“Too busy.” Miguel’s typing something, but he hasn’t raised the platform yet. Granted, Peter hasn’t left the platform, but since when did Miguel decide to give warning about that sort of thing, anyway?

“Mig.” Mayday reaches out with grubby little hands, squirming in Peter’s grasp. “Mig!”

“Like I said.” Peter laughs. “She likes you.”

Miguel glances back, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Why not?” Peter shrugs. “If you keep assuming people dislike you, you’re not going to make the important connections you need to be happy.”

“Since when did you get so profound?”

“Since I had a kid,” Peter answers honestly. He realized that pretty early on.

“Hmm.” Miguel looks lost in thought, the spot between his brows creased in concentration. There’s somberness there too, melancholy at the corners of his lips and grief in his eyes. It feels kinda private. Peter respectfully looks away.

When Miguel speaks again, it’s the softest Peter has ever heard his voice. “Could I…see her?”

Peter grins and hands the beaming Mayday over. Miguel props her up against his hip, the way MJ likes to hold her. “Mig,” May chirps happily, and Miguel doesn’t quite smile, but Peter doesn’t miss the flickerings at the edges of his mouth.

May reaches out and bops Miguel on the nose. He chuckles, mostly under his breath, but Peter can see right through that in a heartbeat.

Uh oh. Speaking of hearts. His is suddenly beating so fast Peter’s afraid it might burst out of his chest. He hasn’t felt like this since…since he first met MJ.

Oops. Didn’t mean to do that. Miguel, oblivious to Peter’s sudden plight, boops Mayday’s nose in return, finally allowing a small smile to grace his face as she shrieks with glee. Have I ever looked at him in this lighting before? Or am I so entrenched in the house-husband lifestyle that the sight of anyone holding a kid - holding my kid - makes my nerves fry over like I’m sixteen again?

Wait ‘til MJ hears about this one, Peter thinks. I’ll never hear the freakin’ end of it.

Across from him, Mayday gurgles in joy, and Peter smiles.

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse #miguel o'hara #peter b. parker #mayday parker #my writing

[foster-the-world]

Funny baby boy things

Baby boy loves learning Spanish words. I dont know Spanish so often look up words on my phone. This morning he was in my room while I was getting dressed. He says “Mom how do you say boobies in Spanish. Ask your phone.” Then proceeds to take my phone and ask Siri.

Last night at the schools monthly literacy night dinner they had Harlem Magic Masters - a DJ and three basketball players who do tricks and entertain the crowd. They were very good. The kids loved them. At the beginning they did a dance contest. Baby boy went up by himself and the crowd went wild because he’s perfect. If anyone ever questioned if he has ADHD (they don’t) his dancing would prove it. It’s rapid fire movement with some break dancing thrown in. When announcing the winners they called one older girl up to give her a hat. Quincy then walks himself right up there, stands in front of him and puts his hand up. So freakin cute. Not sure who the real winner was but they couldn’t really say no. He was very happy with his baseball hat. The third winner was his little best friend who was also thrilled beyond believe. Rebel also won a ball catching contest - along with her sweet classmate. Bee was not happy to be the only non winner but all of the kids got free books from scholastic book fair stock so she was appeased. She chose one of the Harry Potter books we haven’t gotten to, yet.

Need to get through PTA meeting tonight and then finish packing for our early flight to London.

Managed to secure 75 free chick-fil- meals for teacher appreciation week. Our local restaurant does not have any homophobic policies and we aren’t actually giving them any money - so I figure it’s okay. Also got about $250 in gift cards to stack a dessert/drink snack cart we will deliver to each class. And a local bagel shop gives 75 bagels every year. Starbucks donated coffee - so we will have a nice breakfast.

Yesterday the Principals friend told her about a 70k capital improvement grant due tmrw. At first I said I couldn’t get it together. Then started thinking about how we could make our family room/meeting classroom so much better. I managed to get the whole application done at work today. My husband checked for grammar and said you could not tell it was done in only 1-2 hours. It certainly wasn’t perfect but I’m glad I took the time. I felt kind of bad but did not have the time/energy to send around to other exec team members for feedback. I figure it was worse to ask for advice and then ignore it then to just not ask. I didn’t want it hanging over my head tonight. I did tell the other members I was applying. Now it’s submitted- worse they can do is say no.

[thlayli-ra]

I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner but it came to me the other day and I just had to write it down. A wee fic to dip my toe back into the Valetverse again.

When Hell Froze Over

Characters - Seth Rollins, CM Punk, Drew McIntyre, others mentioned

AU - Valetverse (created by Syreina)

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Swearing

Words - ~1,577 words

Background Info - In a world where women no longer exist, society is split into two; dominants (the ruling class) and valets (who possess the 'inualidus chromosome' that allows them to bear children). Stripped of basic human rights, valets are expected to be entirely subservient to the dominants that claim them and few are prized higher than the valets of the WWE. Seth Rollins and CM Punk are both such valets and are married to Roman Reigns and The Undertaker, respectively.

Summary - Seth Rollins had it all and was convinced nobody could take it away from him. Until the static hit!

***Please note; the author of this fic is a Punk girlie (ng) so everything written here, including the hate, is done with loving affection. I have no problem with Punk haters interacting, so long as we all keep it civil. Thank you!😘***

He was the Visionary! He was the Revolutionary! He was Seth Freakin' Rollins!

And he was on top of the world!

Standing in the cage, he closed his eyes and savoured the sound of the crowd chanting the sweeping notes of his entrance music long after the TitanTron had gone quiet, waving his arms to encourage them to carry on and on and on. Precious gold hung heavy around his waist, the World Heavyweight Championship, symbolising his position as the top dog on Monday Night Raw. The headliner, the main-eventer, the face of the brand. Even backstage, he was looked up to and respected, acknowledged by all as the valet locker-room leader.

Meanwhile his husband Roman Reigns, the Tribal Chief and dominant locker-room leader, was making headlines with his historic reign as the Undisputed WWE Universal Champion over on Smackdown, proving once and for all that he was the Head of the Table, while his other husband, fellow valet and recently re-branded Jon Moxley, was dominating the 'other company' with his faction, the brutal Blackpool Combat Club.

The Shield may no longer exist in paper, but nobody could deny their stranglehold on the current wrestling landscape. Sweeter still, nobody came close to challenging them for it.

Not even the Judgement Day! Chasing their newest runt, JD McDonagh to the top of the cage, Seth and his team mate, Sami Zayn, grabbed hold of their foe. Ignoring his pleas for mercy, they threw him towards a waiting Randy Orton below who executed a picture perfect RKO to finish off the Irishman, adding him to the list of his fallen brothers. All it took was a Cross Rhodes for Cody to metaphorically cut off the head of their leader, Damian Priest, and going in for the pin, the ref counted the one, two, three.

The bell rang and the crowd went wild for their victory. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Seth lapped up the applause, his body wracked with the pain and exertion of the brutal War Games match. Below him, Cody was embracing his husband, Randy, who had triumphantly returned from an eighteen month absence due to a back injury. Seth gazed warmly at the happy pair but beneath his smile, his cogs were already turning. Randy was no push-over in the ring, and Cody, the prodigal son, had a way with the crowd that almost rivalled his own. They were potential threats, ones that could prove dangerous in the future. However, as of that moment in time, they were on the same team and on the same wavelength. Seth wasn't worried. He was too engrossed in relishing his fresh victory, cherishing the noise of adoration from the WWE Universe.

And then the static hit!

Somehow the noise grew, a jet engine roaring in his ear.

'No! No fucking way!'

And there he was! Sauntering in with a plain white shirt and the smuggest grin on his face. As if he had any business being there at all!

CM Punk! Phil fucking Calaway, himself!

Seth couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening. Punk was finished, washed up, done! He'd been fired from that pissant company, branded a thug, a bully, a locker-room cancer. He'd had his character, his reputation and legacy dragged so viciously in the dirt that he'd never clean his slate again. Never!

So, how the fuck was this happening?

Seth saw red! Pushing back his stunned teammates, he stomped out the cage door, heading for the ramp. His path was blocked by refs and production crew, sensing the rage pulsing through the champion's veins. Seth didn't care. He saw the so-called Best in the World posturing at the entranceway, taking selfies with fans, teasing them with taps on his wristwatch.

And they were lapping it all up! They should have booed him out of the building like they were doing on those other shows, blowing the roof off with chants of 'CM Sucks! CM Sucks!' Not welcoming him back with open arms like some conquering hero. This wasn't fair! This wasn't right!

He had walked out on them nearly ten years ago. He had abandoned them all; the company, the valet division, the fans, even those that needed him most. Right when they'd finally given him the ball, he'd dropped it and never looked back. Not only that but he had done everything in his power to tear it all down since.

So now, he could just... walk back in?

NO! He wasn't having it! Not in his company!

'Woah, woah! Easy there.' He had more people around him now; Cody and Sami, even Michael Cole and Corey Graves had left the commentary table to try and calm Seth down, force him back. It only ignited the fire further.

It was all caught on a fan's mobile phone. How he had repeatedly stuck up his middle fingers at Punk, swearing bloody murder at him with the foulest language he could muster. It would become viral, as much a talking point of that night as the return that proved hell had truly frozen over.

CM Punk was back in the WWE.

While everything else; the War Games match, the victory, even Orton's return all fell away into the background.

Even for Seth, who now had only one focus, one vision. Hearing Punk spew his empty apologies, prattling on about conquering his white whale of main-eventing Wrestlemania, saying that he was finally 'home' before signing that dotted line that tied him to the red brand - Seth's brand! - caused that wrath inside of him to bubble into a boiling froth until he could stand it no longer.

His music hit and he stormed out to the ring. Standing toe-to-toe with his former friend, now his bitter enemy, he stared down the older valet without fear. Eyeing up the deeper lines in his face, the grey in his beard, the new scars marring his skin. Behind those pursed lips, he knew a tooth was missing. Punk had changed in so many ways.

But so had Seth. He was no longer the kitten, and he had outgrown the Architect. He was now the veteran, the top guy, the champion, and Punk was beneath him in every way possible.

'Don't you dare call this place your home!' Seth warned the older man. 'This is my home! This is our home and I will do everything in my power to protect it from people like you!'

Punk looked on, his arms crossed across his chest, blinking slowly like a bored cat. Never once making a move to grab a mic himself.

'I'm going to say this plainly, with every fibre of my being,' he paused, ensuring he could see the look on Punk's face as he uttered, 'I hate you!' It stung him, the older valet ducking his head. 'The truth always comes out, pal, and I know, you know, everybody here knows... this is your last chance.' Another pause, letting the significance of his words set in. 'So one of two things is gonna happen; you either expose yourself and self-destruct like you always do. Or if, by some miracle, you have changed, and you've got any gas left in this old tank? Maybe one day you'll be lucky enough to stand across the ring from me, in a World Heavyweight Championship match and then I will expose you for the fraud that you are!'

Finally, finally, Punk grabbed a microphone and Seth readied himself. The other valet was notorious on the mic, it had been what had propelled him above the rest, that had broken down barriers and glass ceilings, that had changed the entire culture of wrestling as a whole. He knew that whatever was coming his way was bound to be brutal.

'Are you done?' the older man asked, patronisingly. Seth tried to keep calm, hide his ire. 'That's your one free pass to stand here and speak to me disrespectfully without me coming after you.' Pass? A free pass? Seth didn't need a fucking free pass! But he had no time to argue back as Punk went on, announcing that he was entering the Royal Rumble. 'And when CM Punk wins, maybe, Seth, it's you, he's coming after!'

The confrontation was over, and even though by all standards, it should have been another victory for Seth, it felt hollow. What good was winning a war of words when his enemy refused to fight?

But he was coming for him, he knew that for certain now. He wanted that main event at Wrestlemania, he wanted that shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.

He couldn't let that happen.

But then, as a Scottish poet once said, "the best laid schemes o' mice an' men, gang aft a-gley." Seth injured his knee a few weeks later. He would not be able to fulfil his promise himself.

So he took inspiration from another Scot...

There had been another who was equally enraged at Punk's return. That same night, at Survivor Series, he had stormed out when Cult of Personality hit. A towering, hulking brute who had grown jaded and angry. Who had a knack for putting other superstars on the shelf. Another, who had entered his name into the Royal Rumble.

'Drew McIntyre,' Seth accosted the Scottish Warrior backstage.

'What do you want?' the huge dominant snarled down at him.

Seth was unfazed. 'I believe we both have a common enemy.' McIntyre's eyes narrowed, a sparkle of intrigue in the intense blues. Seth knew then and there that he had the dominant's attention. 'You say you want to redeem yourself?'

He leant in close, whispering conspiratorially.

'How would you like to be the saviour of Wrestlemania?'

Tags; @my-intrests @selamat-linting

#Thlayli-writes #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fan fiction #seth rollins #cm punk #drew mcintyre #survivor series #cm return #ficlet #valetverse au

[quoththemaiden]

What is your favorite thing about the Eric x Muriel situation?

Oooh, there’s so many reasons I love them and ship them. The first and simplest is that they’re great characters on their own. They’ve both been around since time immemorial, but they both bring such an intense energy to any new thing they’re allowed to do, no matter how unappealing it might seem on the surface. Getting to talk to a higher-ranking angel or demon, even if it results in them being dissolved in acid a few times, is such a rare opportunity that they fling themselves into it full-force. I’d love to get to see them experience some actually nice things together, and to learn for themselves what things are actually wonderful and how to create wonderfulness and niceness themselves. It would be such a scary journey, but I’d like to see them support each other through it!

The next layer is that they actually aren’t perfect people at the moment. We don’t get enough scenes with them to see much darkness, but they aren’t just fully sweetness and light. Muriel was perfectly chipper in the Job minisode about the people and animals dying and they didn’t seem to have any moral hesitation about reporting on Aziraphale and Crowley. Now, they were completely incompetent as a spy so we don’t know what they would have done if they’d actually had real proof to present, but at this point they’re clearly not tuned into the stakes and they could easily cause a lot of collateral damage. Plop them down at the crucifixion and would they even know enough to wince at Jesus’s pain or understand why anyone was mourning?

And for Eric’s part, the first thing that springs to mind is that deleted scene where he wants to punch “Aziraphale” while he’s tied up. “I’ve always wanted to hit an angel!” And, really, why not? He’s a demon. Why wouldn’t he want to hurt an angel? It reminds you that Eric Fell. Regardless of why Eric Fell or how he felt about his fellow angels before the Fall, he very likely fought against them, he had no apparent qualms about helping to kill one now, and he might well hold a totally reasonable amount of bitterness for his siblings who never got punished like he did. So, yeah, why not take the opportunity to sock one when the opportunity arises?

So how would that play out in their relationship, if Muriel is unknowingly callous and Eric has spent six thousand years in a workplace built around cruelty? They’ll learn and grow after they’re finally able to experience new things — of course they will — but how will that play out for them as individuals or as a couple? There are so many potential pitfalls. Just like the highs of Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship are sweeter because they do have the lows where their jokes don’t land, they say totally the wrong thing, or they fail a moral test in the other’s eyes, there would surely be stumbling blocks for Eric and Muriel as well. And that makes it so much more interesting.

(The layer after that is that they’re so freakin’ adorable. Absolute cutie-pies. @strophalosx3's fanart of Eric twirling Muriel around in a dance kills me every time because I cannot handle the cuteness. That takes a lower layer because of course it’s just superficial, and also because they have a lot of competition for attractiveness and charisma — our Ineffable Husbands whose love shines through in every scene, Uriel who’s so confident and drop-dead gorgeous, Dagon who manages to be adorable in a mature office lady kind of way despite the make-up, Saraqael who brings such an intense aura of competence to every scene… so many great actors and character designs! But if I had to rank them specifically for adorability, Eric and Muriel are both definitely up there at the top and that certainly adds to the fun of shipping them.)

#good omens #good omens meta #muriel #eric the disposable demon #ineffable juniors #asks #self post #thank you for the ask!!

[thatoneluckybee]

I don't think the fairies killed/tried to kill Reimund and Kirsi.

Or at the very least, they didn't tear Kirsi's face apart.

Firstly, the fairing were literally just looking for Quinn. Yes, they were violent in the raid, but they had absolutely no reason to go after the King and Queen. Of course it is entirely possible that one went rogue, but it seems unlikely. I had the sneaking suspicion that SOMETHING was fishy after the S2 finale but didn't have any solid evidence to support said suspicion. HOWEVER I may now.

Examining Kirsi's current scarring and injuries (may change/heal over time as she's still in the process of healing) most of the gashes are around her mouth. (This kinda reminds me Kuchisake-Onna but that's another ramble.) However... let's take a look at the S2 finale.

I'm fairly freakin' sure she still has her lower lips here. She's bleeding profusely and has probably had her throat slit by now, but the extraordinary mutilation has not yet occurred. It is ENTIRELY possible that this was just an oversight or that her S3 design wasn't finalized yet. However, I find it odd that the choice to still show part of her head WITHOUT THE INJURIES was made.

If this was intentional, that means she got most of her facial scarring AFTER LUCIA FOUND HER BODY.

Everything past this point is merely speculation, but I believe that it was not the fairies but rather Lord Ricon. I believe he was the one to kill his nephew (who he was angry at) and attempt to kill Kirsi. At the very least I'm pretty sure he was the one to brutally attack Kirsi in such a manner.

It would make sense in my mind.

Possibility A is that Kirsi was SUPPOSED to die but did not. Either Ricon failed to kill her (which I doubt) OR Lucia (as we see her lose control of her magic) healed or resurrected Kirsi by accident. Ricon failed to kill Kirsi. However, he still has this girl wrapped around his finger, and is only looking for ways to make her more dependent on him. What better way than to make her hide her face? Kirsi has lost her father and her husband and has received life-changing injuries, this is the PERFECT time for Ricon to manipulate the young queen further and make her bend to his will.

Possibility B is that Ricon did the same as above, however that leaving Kirsi alive was intentional and her mutilated her face later.

This is a very out-there theory for me but I think I've got some good evidence by my opinion and I am HYPED to see where this goes from here!

#SOBBING KIRSI BABY #SCREW RICON #suitor armor #webtoon #suitor armour #Suitor armor webtoon #Suitor armour webtoon #Fambles #Suitor armor theory #TW blood #tw gore #TW injury #tw scars

[abcd-adventures]

Oh, hey! It’s been forever (again). I have managed to log in a couple of times and see a couple of people’s life updates which always reminds me how much I miss this space.

Life has taken on a new level of craziness with the addition of my MIL’s accident and ongoing “recovery”...she is not doing the PT she should be...and additional issues that have really become far more problematic now that she’s barely mobile and on some pretty serious meds. Eesh. My husband and I are very much feeling the weight of being the “responsible” children in both of our families. Two moms and two kids is a lot (not that C is really a kid anymore...he’ll be 20 next month). But, we’re a pretty amazing team, and I still wouldn’t trade our life for anyone else’s, so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. We’ve managed to sneak away for a couple of dates and I am ALWAYS reminded of how much I just adore that man. 

C has decided he’s pretty much done with traveling around and is ready to come back to Austin in the next few months. He’s looking at a position at either the husband’s or my work and wants to start some classes. Obviously, the husband’s company’s position would pay better, but mine would be way more interesting and fun. Lol I’m just thrilled he came to the decision independently that he wants to be close to us. It fills my heart!

B just started his summer program this week--he’s in the pre-K class now that he will be in when the regular session starts at his part-time MDO program. I can’t believe he’s four already! He has a tough time with transitions, but a lot of his little friends are still in his class, so that is helping. 

Work is still the dream. My new boss has settled in well and is such a competent and refreshing change. We work super well together. Next month will be a full year that I’ve been there as an employee (although my internship started there in Jan of 22). I feel SO GRATEFUL every day that I get to do this job. It is absolutely perfect for me. I’ve had time to really work with my regular clients and I love them SO MUCH. It is unbelievable the amount of trauma some people have lived through and yet are such amazing, compassionate, and resilient individuals. I always tell my clients that they give me so much more than I could ever give them and I don’t think they really “get” how true that is. I feel so freakin fortunate to be granted the privilege of learning about their lives and supporting them in their goals. Best. Job. Ever.

Miss you guys! Hope you’re well!

#I'm alive!

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Oh, don’t mind us, we’re just carving up our pumpkins and spiking the apple cider. We’ve been busy preparing some spooky treats for the little goblins and ghouls around town. Lil’ Rollie’s costume is supposed to be a real showstopper this year from what we’ve heard.

We hope you sit back and enjoy these community recs from our farm witch friends with some of your favorite candies and leave the authors some love!

+ + + + + + + + +

Feels like home (@thegrayness) **RPF**  “In this absolutely lovely fic, Dan is a novelist whose research on small towns puts him in close proximity with the charming Noah. Complete with Hallmark vibes and just the right amount of pining, this fic is perfect for anyone looking to get in their holiday feels. It's sweet, fun, and absolutely worth a read (or two)!!”

Fifteen hundred miles (morehuman) “This is the one that started it all for me. The one I stumbled upon after falling down a Schitt’s Creek internet rabbit hole and found myself on AO3. The one that made me fall in love with this concept of taking characters that I had fallen in love with and placing them in different situations and have it work. It showed me there were all these people in the world creating unique, compelling and brilliantly written stories. This is my favorite fic for so many reasons, but mostly because of everything it brought to me. New friends, a renewed love of reading, along with reawakening my own creativity. I know it’s already well-known and well-loved but I felt the need to share how much it means to me.”

Halloween whiskey (@missgeevious) “A fine Halloween fic. I love the way this writer is so concise, creating this little gem with nary a wasted word. A tight 5K that's both sweet and scorching hot. Come for Patrick's "do-over" in the beginning, linger for the intense heat in the middle, and leave with the image of Patrick's adjusted costume firmly planted in your brain.”

Into a million pieces (rosieboo98) “This is one of my go to fics when I am looking to read angst. It brings me to tears every time. But then it gives our boys their happy ending. I really appreciate the fact that once they get their happy ending, the story does not end. Instead, the author gives a few chapters of them building their new relationship after it has been so broken.  Highly recommend if you need a good angst with happy endings!”

Language of Love (pandorasdaydream) “If you’ve ever wondered what happened between the episodes, these series are for you. Such attention to detail and explanations for David and Patrick’s thoughts and behaviors. I loved exploring this series.”

The last first kiss - a series of alternate first kisses (poutini/@cheesecurdsgravyandfries) “This piece eighteen alternate “last first kisses” that all take place before the S3:13 grad night kiss we all know and love, hits a bit differently. It’s soft, sweet, funny, and a wonderful bit of evidence that David and Patrick will be together in every universe- sometimes sooner than you’d think. 11/10 would read again and again and again— and you should too!”

Smoke gets in your eyes (@this-will-be-our-year) “This Mad Men (remix) AU is freakin gold!!! Its set in the 60s yet its SO David & Patrick. I cried, laughed, and fell in love with the characters. I'm not even kidding when I say that a fluffy sequel where we see them as "husbands" or a present time fast forward where they marry legally is in my DAILY MANIFESTATIONS. So, so good!” 

Stab: The Elmsboro Murders (@dinnfameron) “I am assuming that everyone knows the quintessential October fic “My Heart is Like a Haunted House” by dinnfameron, so I don’t need to tell you to go read that. Right? Okay, well, after that one, check out another seasonally appropriate one by the same author, “Stab: The Elmsboro Murders.” You’ll love this flirty, lighthearted meet-cute based on a slasher movie. Dinnfameron is such a clever wordsmith—weaving together canon lines in unexpected ways, capturing the tone of a detective story, and including plenty of affectionate and true-to-character banter. The point of view alternates, and the parts in journalist David’s head are particularly fun and sweet. So don’t be scared of this little horror fic. It might kill you, but only in the best, most metaphorical ways.”

#friends of farm witches #friends of farm witches fic recs #FOFW Friday Recs #sc fic rec #sc fanfic #schitts creek fic #SC fic #david x patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #sc rpf

[genevievemd]

Writer’s Love Day!

It’s Day 2 of @choicesfandomappreciation celebration, so this post is gonna be about my favorite writers! And I’m gonna do one big post again so I don’t clog up the dashboards. 

@jamespotterthefirst okay, tbh my friend, you might get sick of me after this week is over but oh well. I’ve said it a million times but you were my first writer I read, first MC I fell in love with, so obviously I have to give you a shoutout here. I could never pick just one thing on your masterlist to give a shoutout to because I read that bitch all the time. The fake husband/wife series, I think I’d read like that 17 times. Literally like every oneshot you have I’ve read at least twice. And of course the OG pictagram series that started us all on pictagram edits. Your works are like a comfort to me, and I could never express how much I adore literally everything you do. You have a true gift, bestie and I hope you know that. The way you write our favorite grumpy old man is top tier, Lilac is an inspiration and I can never get enough of the way you weave words together and craft these freakin masterpieces. 

@jerzwriter Listen, do I hate you still for breaking my heart with DTI? Yes. But I am also so impressed and amazed at the way you wrote that giant. You wrote a freakin book dude. And you never gave up and it was true to the characters the whole time. And don’t even get my started on how impressive it is that you manage not one but TWO ships. (Well now three since we have Zoe and Eli) And each is so organic and real, true to the characters. I’m always so inspired by you and I can confirm that on more than one occasion I’ve said “What would Elsa Do?”  

@bex-la-get Can you come back to write more Natalie? Please? I miss my baby so much. I frequently go stalk your works whenever I miss my girl. And like THAT SERIES WITH THE EX GIRLFRIEND WHO COMES BACK WITH THE KID. Dude the way you broke my heart with that to the point that I forgot I had read it cause my brain blocked it from my memory lmao. Your writing is so organic and real, and it’s like poetry. I love it. Come back. 

@liaromancewriter your my romance inspiration, dude. You were born to write romance novels. Like Maxenna needs to be a real book. They’re so perfect. And Cassie and Ethan, also perfect. I’m also mad jelly that you never have WIPS. What’s that like? 

@lsvdw-blog THE STORIES YOUR BRAIN COMES UP WITH DUDE!!! You always leave me wanting more. Every single time. Even the smut lol. Please never stop writing. Ever

There’s so many more people I could write love letters to. Like @potionsprefectand @a-crepusculo, @coffeeheartaddict2 and @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @heauxplesslydevoted and @gryffindordaughterofathena. You could write like a grocery list and I’d read it. I’d run to read it lol. The talent is amazing. 

Everyone who writes for a choices book is a talent that should be celebrated. We’re a very talented bunch. 

#choices fandom appreciation #i love everyone honestly #everyone is a 10/10

[kingkatsuki]

hello, miss jo!!! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ for your wedding ask game — i'd love to marry bakugou in an old ass building, something like one of those small renaissance french chateaus, or an italian garden with lots of statues and greenery and hidden corridors i can go and hide in

and fairy lights... lots and lots of fairy lights

Bakugou rarely comes home late, and if he’s going to be late he always lets you know. So when he doesn’t come home for dinner you know somethings wrong- immediately going to social media on your phone to try and find any civilian reports of Dynamight out tonight. Scrolling through as you see videos shot by pedestrians of Dynamight blasting through the air as he fights a villain over twice his size. Becoming more worried the more you scroll as you see people claiming him to be hurt, even the news headlines begin to come in with tales of him hurt in action. But no words can describe the relief that floods through you when you hear the key in the front door and come into the hallway to see your boyfriend stumbling through covered in soot, debris and blood. Immediately rushing towards him to check the damage yourself as he tries to bat you away, “‘m fine woman, stop freakin’.” as you then go from upset to annoyed as you shout at him for trailing blood through the house. But he dutifully goes to the bathroom- a routine you’d both picked up whenever he’d come home like this as you ready the medical kit. Working at dabbing his wounds as he sits on the toilet seat, your thighs slot between his comfortably as he wraps his arms around them. You’re continuing to mumble beneath your breath as you chastise him for being careless (again) and tell him that if he does this again you’ll hurt him yourself and he just comes out with it- “Marry me.” And at first you don’t even hear it, still patching him up as you rant about his safety but then you stop and take in the words. He doesn’t even have a ring, but he just knows in that moment he never wants to be without you.

The wedding was such a grand spectacle, all your friends and family along with the top Pros from around the country. The building was an old style chateaux, something you’d dreamed about since you were a child and everything was perfect— even though the crowd and the cameras were overwhelming (something that came with the territory for being with the number three hero Dynamight, not that it made it any easier). Bakugou pulls you away from a group of ladies talking to you abruptly as he drags you down the long, winding hallways of the listed building. Smirking as you trip up the stairs on your long gown as he retraces his steps to come behind you to pick up the train so it now sits around your upper thighs as he holds it in his arms, ignoring your protests that people can see your garter as he continues guiding you towards an empty castle balcony with the most gorgeous views of the rose garden below. The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the balcony coated in a beautiful glow of fairy lights that wrapped around the ledge and along the double doors to the building. A peaceful serenity compared to the loud, boisterous bustle of your wedding reception as you’re finally given a moment to breathe. “Could see the crowds were getting too much for ya.” He hums as his arms grip the balcony ledge on either side of your body as you stare out at the view, his chest pressed to your back as he pressed soft kisses to the column of your neck as you both stare into the distance. Finally able to enjoy each other’s company as husband and wife for a few moments before you knew you’d have to return back to the party.

#ask games #ask game

[mick-mundy]

ranking the mercs based on how often i think they shower

i freakin love making these hired killers seem more human by thinking about mundane things like this, so i finally decided to write some of my thoughts down.

1.) SOLDIER

- this might be a surprise but i firmly believe soldier showers every single day.

- it seems to be agreed upon by everyone that he gets up at the same time every day to kick the others’ doors down to wake them up because AMERICA WAKES UP AT THE ASSCRACK OF DAWN, MAGGOTS! WHAT WOULD OUR FOUNDING FATHER GEORGE FOREMAN THINK IF HE SAW YOU SLACKING OFF?!

- part of this routine is a quick 15 minute shower. he probably unknowingly lives by the pits, tits, ass (P.T.A) regimen, but at least he’s showering 7 times a week. absolutely uses 3-in-1 soap.

2.) HEAVY

- oh heavy my dear sweet sweet heavy. bear husband. dear friend.

- heavy is perfect idk what to tell you. he grew up with four women and raised three of them. you can’t tell me this man isn’t keeping himself clean every day.

- he gets extra points because he knows how to take care of himself. he doesn’t need very many products, which is for the better considering he’s showering all the time.

- i don’t have much to say other than that, he’s just really. what’s the word. dependable. he keeps a routine and i think that’s hot <33

3.) DEMOMAN

- oh demo my darling man. handsomest mug this side of the rio grande river has ever seen.

- based on the headcanons i’ve read, i think demo’s parents, mom specifically, rode his ass about him bathing. they were already harking on him to get into the family business of blowing shit the fuck up so it’s pretty easy to imagine they were the same about showering.

- HOWEVER, it was a constant battle between “ye need ta’ smell like gunpowder if ye’re gonna be a degroot!” and “ye stink ta’ bloody fuckin’ hell, tavish!” so demo just showers as often as he can out of habit now. at least 5 times a week. the gunpowder smell will stick to him regardless.

- he’s thorough in his bath time regimen, unlike his bestie, so he gets bonus points for taking good care of himself.

4.) MEDIC

- you’d think he wouldn’t be the kind of guy to keep himself cleaned and groomed, what with how much time he spends enthralled in his work, but i think he finds great satisfaction in taking care of himself… when he does, that is.

- much like the next few mercs, bathing isn’t a necessity to medic. he understands the health benefits of staying clean so he does the bare minimum when he feels like it, which is about 3 times a week.

- he stays fresh using expensive colognes (they aren’t nearly as pricy as spy’s assortment of scents, but they’re sure as hell not cheap) and scented hair pomade to keep his iconic swirl on point.

5.) ENGINEER

- engie is such a hard nut to crack here because he seems like the kind of guy that showers often, but i also think he gets too caught up in his work to take care of himself. he doesn’t see bathing as a necessity when there’s work to be done. eating and drinking is much more important than staying clean. plus, what’s the point in showering if he’s only going to go back to the workshop and/or field to get dirty again?

- that being said, he “”showers”” like twice a week. they can’t really be considered full showers because all he really does is rinse himself off. a little bit of soap will be caught in the mix if he’s feeling spicy.

- if he’s going out to meet important higher-ups or to go into town, he’ll thoroughly wash up.

- …unfortunately that’s not very often.

6.) SNIPER

- gross. stinky. love of my life <333

- as much as i love calling sniper a gross stinky man, i think he showers just enough to avoid being the worst smelling. yeah, the piss smell sticks and he’s pretty much desensitized to it, but he’s aware of the other smells he creates.

- he’ll shower only when he needs to, so like. twice a week. maybe three of it’s been hot enough outside. just like engie, he sees it as more of a “when it’s urgent” dealio instead of taking care of himself.

- someone made the comment that he’d use aussie shampoo on one of my art posts and i completely, 100% agree. that’s fuckin hilarious. imagine. i bet he likes the kangaroo on the bottle :]

- i’m also fond of the idea that he will literally strip to his birthday suit and roll around in dirt if he’s REALLY not feeling like taking a shower (which is most of the time.) he’d rather smell like dirt than sweat, plus the earth dries him out, the way nature intended. primitive problems require primitive solutions.

7.) SCOUT

- ha! you probably expected our good lad to be at the bottom of the list!! well, think again!

- actually- that’s not a lot to brag about; scout’s ma SOMEHOW drilled a barely passible decent showering schedule into his head from a young age. i mean, EIGHT BOYS? come on dude, there’s no way she or the older sibs didn’t hark on scout to shower at least twice a week (persuading probably included hosing him down in the yard when he got too smelly.)

- due to scout logic, he takes fucking forever to shower now, AND he sings like a banshee! he thinks that if he takes longer that means he’ll stay cleaner for longer, plus, there’s multiple showers so he won’t get kicked out for taking forever. makes sense, yeah?

- he’s yet another merc that uses 3-in-1, but he walks out of the showers wrapped in a gaudy robe with the swagger of someone that spends thousands of dollars on high quality bathroom items.

- unfortunately, he also douses himself in axe body spray. you win some, you lose some. sniper’s dirt bath smell will always be better than copious amounts of axe body spray. shrug

8.) SPY

- i really don’t think he showers often.

- however, this isn’t because of the french-don’t-shower stereotype. it’s more about him being on the field where it doesn’t really matter what he smells like. the cloaking device conceals basically everything, and no one on base is interested (at least outwardly) in getting close enough to him to really notice or care about what he smells like. the scents he buys are really more for himself, than anything.

- just like his son, albeit with actual reason to walk around like he’s hot shit, he buys only the finest perfumes and colognes that were specifically made to cover up the body’s natural odors.

- they’re super fucking expensive; they’re well made and do their job excellently. the other mercs can’t complain about his smell, they can only shudder in disgust at the potential lethal force of his balaclava’s stench. luckily, no one on his team has ever gotten close enough. the opposite team isn’t so lucky.

- the only time he’ll shower every single day is if he’s going to be around someone he cares about very much (scout’s ma, etc.)

9.) PYRO (she/he/they)

- if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it really make a sound?

- the answer is yes! the workings of the world are not dependent on the validation of humans!

- the same goes for pyro. no one on base has EVER seen them shower. it’s fucking impossible to catch him in the act. the other mercs have started assuming that she never showers at all, but at least the suffocating smell of smoke and burnt flesh covers any possible odor, right?

- wrong! pyro probably has the best routine of ANY of the mercs! they fucking love baths and try to indulge themselves as often as possible because the bubbles, good smells, and rubber duckies are hard to pass up.

- unfortunately this list is based on showers, not baths. sorry pyro </3

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #headcanons #sniper #spy #scout #heavy #medic #demo #engineer #pyro #soldier #mick writes

[osatokun]

I'd love to know more about Glinda and her relationship with Gale!

she is a character,an npc from the vampire the masquerade ttrpg I'm playing. Lover (and now wife) of my OC. I just love her so much, a perfect woman. So I took her and started to play BG as Glinda. I'm lucky too meet another Glinda near Baldur's Gate, this name doesn't sound that weird when there are another Glindas around..

Gale is very, very similar to my OC in character ( but much younger) so naturally Glinda the tiefling fell for him. Just her type, a soft loving soul yearning for comfort.

Glinda-Sophia Dequir, the tiefling, has a very silly lore, because..why not,she's gonna be a saviour of the Baldur's Gate. She is a strong sorcerer with..not a food ability to control her powers, wild magic is making wild stuff. She was born near Baldur's gate in a small village for sure. Her parents died when she was maybe 11 or so, and she almost burned down the entire village unable to control her emotions, probably accidently summoned a fire creature of some sorts. Elemental or even a young tiny dragon (silly, yes, I'm bad at dnd lore.but her original vtm lore connected to the dragon, thats where she got her big scar on the chest originally. Plus I only played in Chult campaign and I have absolutely bo idea what's happening here on that sword coast)

Anyway,she ran away, but Elminster found her and, well, raised her. I told you I have stupid story?I do, yes. He mostly taught her how to control her emotions better, her magic better, how to look deeper in things and seek for the truth. Most of the time he had no idea who he is, he was jurs El, a funny old man, cheese lover. She knows a lot about cheese, yes. In the end, he is so freakin old, he could have a few spare years to raise a wild kid. But the most important thing, he helped her to steel her will. She is a determined iron villing disaster now.

Having this story in mind, I find it satisfying to be grumpy to Elminster. She is like, wtf dad, Mystra hurts people, all the time , and she wants to hurt the man I love, Im gonna fight her with my bare fists.

At the time she was stolen by ilithids she ..probably had a little business of her own, a tiny potions shop or something, having pretty calm life.

What else can I get from my vision of the character.

She has zero shame, she is still very curious, sometimes its for the bad. She is studying necromancy (a bit..necromancy of Thay was very calling for her) . When Gale is trying to catch the whole picture, see all the situation, she points to the smaller things. Sometimes it helps her not to get lost, sometimes it helps him.

She is extremely monogamous, and not ready to share her love and bed with strangers, she need to trust person frist to get them into her life. But she fell very quick for Gale because ..well, in the horrors they all were dropped in, first thing he promised is to make a good meal. In the very beginning. Local man falls from the sky and offers you a home made food? He is my husband now.

Plus he differs a lot from other companions. All of them used to the fights, even she herself fought creatures in the local woods. And he is just a wizard in distress, wanting to go back to his cat and cozy tower. A lot of knowledge in his head, not that much blood on his hands. He brought her some comfort she needed to stay strong and believe in finding a way to cure.

For the relationships they have.. mostly comforting and loving? that's pretty generic, he is a very comforting character after all. She keeps him closer to the earth, becoming a God sounds like a destruction of one already so perfect adorkable human being. I picture him as a person who keeps his personal encounters very private, doesn't like to show even too much skin to the others and generally liking to share time alone with his lover, be it a talk or a date. Better go to the Weave and talk to eachother without anyone's hearing, or more x) it's hard to get personal space while traveling..

Glinda on other hand is absolutely fine with disturbing personal spaces, but she is doing her best to hold herself in her hands. She is..imagine a person who acts like a cat sometimes. I'm sure even her tail is twitching and wagging when she's angry. But she is being very respective for his comfort. Thats why Im happy they got to Baldurs gate and finally got a room for themselves x.x

What else can I say.. hm..

She is 30 something years old,maybe 34 or so. Likes stupid books a bit too much. Oh she laughed so hard when they found "Elminster library" and the erotic books about Volo,El and faeries.

she adores his level of awkwardness just as he adores hers. And she'll punch in the face everyone who hurts her man (respectfully acknowledging aloud that he can take care of himself, but she also want to take care herself.)

She probably has fur on tips of her ears and loves head scratches. Not the inside ones tho..

#Ask #Glinda #But the other Glinda #The tiefling #Bf3 #Thank you for the ask!!! #I love all versions of Glinda so much