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#shortfic
somnambulic-thing · 10 months
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Doch ahnst du auch wie tief sich meine Seele im Ozean deines Haars verfängt?
musician!Eddie x afab!reader
nsfw E 18+ piv, pegging, crying, hair pulling :3
The 90s come around and Eddie is entering his alternative Metal/Rock phase and starts growing out his bangs.
just some sloppy horny thoughts about Eddie and his hair, (started as a note, turned into a drabble, very probably messy, but it got the job done)
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His hair reaches the middle of his back and it's the way he runs his hand through the front part to get it out of the way while his fingers strum a heavy gloomy melody, just to slowly slide back into his face mere moments later, that has you hypnotized in this small shitty club with sticky floors and sticky walls.
He keeps doing it after the gig, seated at the bar, roots sweaty and tips a little tangled and you can't decide if you want to comb the small knots out with your fingers or grab a fist full near his scalp to hold him in place while he keeps hypnotizing you with those tattooed knuckles between your legs.
You get to do both when you take him home with you that night; silky strands of chestnut spilling out your fist, as you pull his head back as far as his tendons allow to bite at that thick salty neck while you ride him into oblivion.
It forms ever-changing ornaments on your belly and chest as Eddie bents over you, holding your legs spread wide as he fucks you deep and slow and dragging, taking his time to unravel you while you keep making a tangled a mess out of this ocean of hair with your trembling hands.
You loop it all around your fist, once, twice and his pretty back bends for you, beads of sweat collecting in the dip of his spine as you line up that toy with his hole, holding him tight as you slide past the ring of muscle and listen to him whine your name. Eddie has been mouthy the whole night but as you sink into him again and again and again and faster and faster, faster and deeper and as you push him further down and change the angle of your thrusts his words stumble and hitch and his begging flows as one endless word and you keep going, keep wrecking him until his words run dry, replaced by hard-pressed panting and guttural moans and soft soft whimpering. You release his hair and let him slump against the sheets. You slow the movement of your hips and reach around and down to find his hot heavy cock waiting to be touched and as you stroke him slowly, fuck him slowly, Eddie starts to writhe and twitch and whine and he comes long and hard inside your fist.
“I drooled on your sheets,” he mumbles, spent and slack, his cheek squished against your chest. “Might be drooling on your tits right now.”
Your fingers gently comb his hair, gently scratch his scalp, soothing every ache left behind. “No might about it,” you chuckle. “Don’t worry, goes well with the cum.”
“And the tears,” he adds and sighs and looks up at you. “Can’t believe you made me cry.”
A strand of hair falls into his face, you don’t brush it back this time. “I can’t believe I didn’t get to see it.”
He smiles and sighs and dips his head to kiss your mouth, then looks into your eyes. “Then let me spread my legs for you next time.”
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larentsfilm · 3 months
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Breakfast With Dad 🍳🥞
“Quando a escola de Elio anuncia o evento de café da manhã com o pai como parte de suas atividades, ele se prepara para ter um dia ruim. É uma surpresa quando Louis, um voluntário, aparece para almoçar com ele.
Agora ele precisa bolar um plano para juntá-lo com sua mãe: Harry.”
⚠️ Contém: momrry / kid fic / embora tecnicamente seja um pré-adolescente / louddy / harry é mãe solteira / louis é mais novo / diferença de idade / harry!bottom / louis!top / breeding kink / mpreg / found family / h com pronomes masculinos e femininos / domestic fluff.
Leia “Breakfast With Dad” no meu wattpad @larentsfilm! Uma fanfic com muito momrry e louddy!
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tavyliasin · 2 months
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BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 4
Just a shorter one today as I've been a smudge busy, but here's day 4! Shortfic below the cut~ ----- -----
Day 4 - The rest of the companions heard Tav/Durge going at it
“Tchk, do they not know the whole woods can hear them?” Lae’zel winced at the latest echo of a moan from the trees, trying to focus on sharpening her blade without slicing through her own finger in the process.
Gale tried in vain to stare harder at his book, as if reading the words loud enough in his head might drown them out. “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of paper to scribe out Zone of Silence for them. You’d think they might make the effort to learn one bloody spell so we can get a night’s sleep-”  
“Was that a tree breaking? Gods I hope they’re not bringing the place down around them.” Wyll looked as concerned as he was flustered, sorting through the supplies in his pack like it was the most interesting task in the world. “What I’d do for a house with some thick walls right now.” 
“I think it’s cute.” Karlach grinned, her heart glowing slightly. “At least someone is getting some action around here.” 
“If they don’t stop getting action I shall be asking Lady Shar to wipe these memories from my head too.” Shadowheart groaned, standing to walk back to her tent. “I’m going to at least try to get some sleep, I suggest you all do the same. You know they’re all elves, right?” 
“Ah of course, Halsin, Astarion, our fearless leader,” Gale’s words were punctuated by a distinctly loud cry from the aforementioned leader that anyone else might’ve mistaken for distress. “They’ll get just as much rest from their trance as we could be getting if it wasn’t too loud to sleep.” He directed his grumble to the treeline, as if the foliage might pass on his displeasure at the disturbance. 
“Do you think they’d notice if I-”
“Karlach, sit back down, you are not going out there to spy on them.” Wyll put a hand on her elbow, pulling her back down to sit beside him.
“I wasn’t going to ask if I could join in or anything.” She complained. “You never let me have any fun.” 
“I would hardly describe being an unwelcome pair of eyes to the affairs of those three as fun, istik.” Lae’zel put her sword aside, satisfied it would be sharp enough to deal with any enemies in the morning. “You should follow the secretive one’s lead and get some sleep, our foes will not hesitate to slice open your gut should you pause to yawn.” 
“That…does not paint a particularly pleasant picture.” Gale closed his book, standing to return to his tent, resolving himself to cast silence on himself once he got there. “Remind me not to ask for any Githyanki bedtime stories next time we’re around the fire this late.”
“I don’t think the Gith even do bedtime stories.” Wyll shrugged, looking towards Lae’zel’s tent.
“We do, actually, and a simple gut-stabbing would be considered too weak even for a helpless babe.” Her voice hissed from behind the canvas. With everyone else gone, Wyll and Karlach lingered a little longer by the fire, sharing a quiet laugh at the idea of Lae’zel as a toddler with an oversized sword complaining that her bedtime stories weren’t gory enough. 
“What about you, Karlach? Any fairytales, or at least good stories until we get peace enough to rest?” The warlock’s smile was disarming as usual. “I’m afraid all I can offer are the worn out classics, and they don’t seem to hold the same charm as they used to. Hard to imagine a dashing prince running off to play the hero and sweep a fair maiden off her feet when I look like this.”
“I don’t know, you look princely enough to me. And I’m not just saying that because I’ve spent years in Avernus surrounded by actual bloody demons, either.” She shuffled a little, her restless tail and glowing chest betraying her thoughts as usual. “The stories I have in my head now aren’t really suitable for children at bedtime.” 
“Lucky for us, we aren’t children.” Wyll sidled just a little closer, looking up at bright eyes that widened as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I might not have a coin to hand to give you, but I would love to hear your thoughts.”
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darkslayers-bride · 1 month
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“is this.. for me?.” Your eyes flicked up to him, standing there stiff, face completely red, holding out a small bundle of various [F/C] coloured flowers towards you.
His eyes which have been glued to his feet the entire time, looked up to you just briefly to give you a light nod.
You smiled, and gently took the flowers from his hands. You stared at it in awe examining the each of the flowers, clearly hand arranged by the lack of consistency between the types of flowers and size. He did this himself, he did this for you. Your heart fluttered
“Uh.. sorry it’s nothing special, I really didn’t know what to do..” he mumbled, switching between watching you through his lashes and fidgeting with his hands.
You ignored his comment for just a moment, plucking a single flower from the bunch, then turning your attention on him.
You reached over and gingerly tilted his chin up to look at you, his eyes wide watching you and glittering in curiosity, you gently planted the [F/C] bloom in his hair.
“It’s perfect, and It’s very special, Genya.” You replied, finally.
It took him a few seconds to process what had happened, he fluttered his eyes, then he slowly reached up and touched the petals, his eyes then shyly drifted down to your smiling form.
You giggled “Silly Genya. if you’re that worried about doing this right, then next thing to do would be to take me on a date, right?.“
His eyes lit up “Y-Yes!!.” He nodded along with his words, the flower nearly coming flying out of his hair.
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I come bearing crumbs!, not great but not my worst I guess , dunno, I can only write when I’m exhausted apparently.
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thehollowwriter · 3 months
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hiii i’m here to heal the fandom with your rollo x reader goodness :))
admittedly i don’t send in requests that often so i’m not sure how detailed or vague the prompt should be but—in true glomas fashion, how about rollo just enjoying a dance with the reader? maybe the two get lost in their own little world within the ballroom, looking into each other’s eyes as they hold each other… haha
feel free to write/add on whatever your heart desires for this one tho <3
What are you doing awake
This is cute! Dw, you asked just fine!
Summary: You and Rollo dance together during the Masquerade
Warnings: None
(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)
Eyes Only For You
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'I should be ensuring everything is going smoothly.' Rollo's head was spinning. 'I shouldn't be dancing right now.'
He tried to get his mind back on track, to no avail. He could not tear his eyes from yours.
Every echo of chatter, every feeling over other dancers brushing against him, every visage of the crowd and the lights fell away bit by bit until it was only the two of you with eyes for no one but each other.
Those brilliant eyes of yours remained fixed on his, your eyes crinkling as you smiled a smile as bright as the sun.
Rollo's heart, beating so fast he feared it may burst from his chest, skipped a beat and his face and ears turned warm.
Your dance was slow and careful, afraid to make a mistake, glancing down at your feet and worriedly tightening your grip on him.
Rollo didn't mind. If you were to fall, he would catch you.
The two of them twirled across the dance floor in an elegant dance, completely engrossed in one another.
Quiet by nature, Rollo was unsure if he should say something about the flurry of emotions swirling inside of him. If he did, he was unsure of what to say.
He knew, however, that he felt a sense of happiness with you. A peace. A belonging.
When the music faded and the dance came to an end, you slowed to a stop and the world began to make itself known once again.
Rollo glanced around at the crowd and lights and decorations, wincing. When he felt you move away from him, his hand shot out to gently hold your wrist.
"Please," Rollo's voice quivered, just barely above a whisper. "Stay with me."
You paused for a moment. "Of course," You said, smiling at him. "I'd love to."
Rollo's heart leapt once more.
......................................
A/N: Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed! I've never written Rollo before please have mercy Q-Q
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doitforstamets · 2 years
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Hob has a song stuck in his head so he sings it out loud one night;
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Dream appears out of thin air.
“You called?”
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saiikavon · 4 months
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(Idk I just had an image and I needed it.)
There’s a wildfire spreading through his body. Heat in his cheeks, his chest, his groin. It scorches his flesh, makes him feel like he’s exhaling smoke on every breath. But it’s still better than the minutes, hours, days before big hands on his hips and plush lips sealed against his own. Before, he’d been drowning in emptiness.
Kissing Jounouchi is like coming up for air. His heart pounds and his head spins, but he wants for nothing else.
His fingers wrinkle the fabric at the back of Jounouchi’s shirt. His hips jerk forward as though out of his own control as sharp teeth nibble at his bottom lip. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants Jounouchi to keep feeding the living flame raging inside him.
If it burns them both to ash, so be it.
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keehlmyself · 3 months
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mello & matt's christmas shenanigans!
this post will include: matt & mello
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— this can be interpretated however you like; romantic or platonic.
"Merry Christmas, asshole." Matt teases.
"It's the 23rd."
Matt and Mello are sat in the living room. Mello was sprawled out on the couch, legs up and boots planted against the coffee table, and Matt sat a few feet from him in a beanbag.
It had been a long time since they spent a christmas together. 6 years, 7? Mello would rather not think about the time they missed.
There's awkward tension. They look at eachother for a moment, unsure how to continue their conversation. Mello averts his gaze and looks out to the window — Beyond all those gloomy grey buildings and the busy street, he could see a carpet of white along the road.
"It's snowing." He comments, trying to break the silence.
"Wow, really, I would've never known." Matt lets out an amused exhale in response.
Mello shoots him a glare. Matt doesn't react negatively. Instead, he chooses to move things forward.
He pulls himself up from the beanbag chair, "Remember a few days ago when we saw a Santa Claus at the mall?"
It was a strange question, Mello thought. But He remembered. He remember laughing under his breath as he watched a tired middle-aged man talk to children in costume. He remembered nudging Matt's arm and going, 'imagine if we ended up like that?'
Suddenly, it occurs to him why Matt was asking in the first place.
Mello's eyes narrow, "No. No, we are not going to meet Santa Claus. I swear to god, you're always trying to get me to do stupid shi—"
Matt bursts into laughter, all the while trying to convince his bestfriend.
"No! No, hold on, hear me out, the photos would be funny, no?"
"Funny how?! Because Santa Claus is gonna be sat next to two stunted teenagers, one of which has half of his face melted off?!"
"Yes."
There's another minute of silence.
Next thing they knew, they were driving to the mall in Matt's car.
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whyistarchaser · 4 months
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Marauders’ House ! Jegulus au
Just Jegulus being little darlings <3
“Music for a Sushi Restaurant” is the opening song to The Marauders' third studio album, Marauders' House. In a combination of smooth jazz and freaky ‘70s pop, Potter (writer of the song) sings about making sushi while relating it to his desire for a relationship. In a May 2022 interview in The Valkyries podcast, the lead singer revealed the story behind the funky song:
"I was in a sushi restaurant in LA with someone and one of our songs came on from the last album, and the person I was with pointed out that it was a "weird song for a sushi restaurant" which obviously lead to an argument and ended on this perfect song for "those type of restaurants".
see the lyrics of the song here.
"Hey!" exclaimed James excitedly, tapping Regulus’s outstretched hand to get his attention "Do you hear that, baby? They’re playing Canyon Moon!"
At Regulus' request, both had decided to go out for dinner. Regulus hadn’t stopped talking for weeks about a restaurant he had visited with Dorcas, and finally after so much insistence, he had managed to drag James to a round table in the far corner of that tiny restaurant. 
James will never admit it out loud, because it would feed her boyfriend’s obsession, but he too had fallen in love with the place the second he put his foot in it. "I hear it, yes," Regulus replied, rolling his eyes without looking away from the posters hanging from the ceiling, apparently today’s menu, as the waitress explained, "Sirius couldn’t be more obvious, "Canyon Moon"?"
Quick pause in conversation
He plays songs I've never heard
An old lover's hippie music
Pretends not to know the words
And I keep thinking back to
A time under the canyon moon
After singing quietly along, James laughed while leaning on the table, glancing at the ceiling to look at the menu himself, "When has Sirius been subtle?" 
“Touché” said Regulus, making James whisper “hot” under his breath right before the waitress came to their table to take their orders. 
After the sweet lady left, Regulus looked around checking the restaurant before leaning on the table to whisper to James “To be honest, I don’t think this is a fitting song for this type of restaurant” An offended gasp left James’ lips, and he smacked Regulus’ shoulder gently. 
“How very dare you”
“You’re gonna tell me that I’m wrong?”
“Of course, our songs fit into any sort of environment”
“Yeah, no, I don’t think so” a bratty tone tint Regulus words, leaning onto the back of his chair, crossing his arms with a small smile on the corner of his lips. 
“You’re mean” 
“I just pointed out a fact. Not every song you guys do fit anywhere, especially not this little and pretty restaurant, it’s a weird song for a sushi restaurant”
“I bet I can change your mind with a song. In fact, I will write a song that fits this restaurant so well that you’ll be embarrassed by what you just said”
“Oh will you now?”
“Hell yeah, before our food comes, I will have the perfect song”
Regulus laughed a bit too hard for that, giving James the perfect view of his pale collarbones under that slim t-shirt. James arched an eyebrow, ready to challenge his boyfriend’s attitude, 
“You don’t think I can do that?”
"Of course I don’t think you can write a song before our food comes" said Regulus with a witty tone, sharing a small smile with James who looked too cocky by now.
"Is that a challenge, my love?"
"You bet it is" a cheeky smile spread across Regulus' face. James felt his heart racing. 
So, for a whole half hour, James kept writing and re-writing a whole song he finishes five seconds before they have their food on the table. And when he shares the lyrics with his boyfriend, the only comment Regulus says is:
"You have the imagination of a three-year-old”.
Two months later, James was in the studio recording "Music For a Sushi Restaurant", with Remus' bass track in the background and the background vocals recorded before by Sirius and Peter complementing his vocals in the chorus. Regulus’s laughter penetrated his track even from outside the booth, making James smile broadly at Sirius grimaced.
If the stars were edible
And our hearts were never full
Could we live with just a taste?
Just taste
It’s 'cause I love you, babe
In every kind of way
Just a little taste
Know I love you, babe
Not even the high volume of the trumpets dampened the scandalous cry of Sirius, who pounced on the microphone of their producer. 
"We are so over, James Potter!" 
Regulus smacked his brother on the side, starting a nasty sibling fist fight. 
James never felt so alive.
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powdered-kneecaps · 8 months
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Armoured Corpses
CW: death, suicide implication, disturbing topics (?)
I found some empty armour in the barracks. Limp against the wall where it lay, heavy with the smell of burning plastoid.
I wish I could say I cried, or screamed, or denied its existence. But as the oldest brother here, the highest ranked in my squad and the one they look up to, this is my responsibility. I stare into the soulless visor when I kneel down and pluck the helmet off - it hisses faintly, a sound usually covered by the voice we all share. I turn the helmet around and trace a finger along the smoldering hole. The smell is stronger, tinged with a bitter copper and a faint lingering scent of overcooked meat. I put the helmet to one side.
The armour is heavy and drags along the floor. Pauldrons scrape against my helmet, cuirass against my back, vambraces almost slipping from my grip which loosens with every step. I'm glad for the edges of my visor guarding my view from having to meet the empty eyes of the soldier I carry. I'm glad for the blaster that leaves no bloody wound behind. I'm glad for the mission that is keeping my squad's attention away from this scene.
If I stumble, I don't notice. The groan from my freight catches in my ear like a livewire. It burns in my head in spite of my efforts to shake it away, the falsehood tempting me to check the armour again, for any spark of blood or breath.
My brothers will not find the armour. They will not ask after the empty space in the mess hall, they will fall in line to fill the gap in out company. The helmet will be left behind when we move on, weather-beaten until the faded paint is unidentifiable. Just as we are. Just as we will be until the Republic has no more use for the armour they created. We are not one with the force, we are one with the earth our bodies will not rot in, where our discarded buckets mark graves we do not fill.
Not rotting, disposable.
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somnambulic-thing · 8 months
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Boom pt I
I just wrote this. (Instead of working on my 4000wips but what else is new?) It's totally random and silly and that was exactly what I needed today.
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
Words: 694 ||Contentwarnings: implication of violent moshpit, Eddie's elbow to readers face (he's so sorry), bruising, mention of various explosives, strangers to stupidly enamoured strangers, hurt/comfort I guess?, fluff I guess?, meet cute if you're into that sorta thing?||
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One moment, you’re screaming kicking jumping your heart out in a moshpit and in the next, your cheekbone explodes.
Well, at least that's how it feels.
“Shitshitshitshiiiit,” chants the dynamite into the break between two songs. “So sorry, shit, you okay? Hey, hey, can you look at me?”
You can and you do, reluctantly removing your hand from your face. Mr Gunpowder stares at you with wide dark eyes out of a hot, sweaty face that also looks like explosives; with his sharp drippy jaw and sensual mouth and oh, he’s biting his full, pink bottom lip now in another attempt to blow your head up. Okay, yeah, it’s more a worried than a steamy gesture but holy shit; if that’s what he looks like worried, you want to devastate him.
“How bad is it?”
He scrunches up his adorable nose. “Already bruising—“
          ‘LET’S MAKE THIS A BLOOD BATH!’ the frontman shouts and counts in his drummer.
“Nope!” TNT-guy says, loops his sticky arm under yours and pulls you through the crowd faster than the blast beat.
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”
“BAR! ICE!”
You sigh with relief as the cold sinks into your hot, throbbing cheek and you have to close your eyes because you’re a bit dizzy and you’re not sure if it’s caused by the smack in the head or by Nitroglycerin Incarnate who’s gently holding a bundle of ice cubes wrapped in a dishtowel to your face.
Whatever it is, you thank the universe for adrenaline.
“I’m so so sorry!” he says for the hundredth time, then you feel his fingers brush your sweaty hair behind your ear. “Let me know when you feel sick? You want some water? I’m sooo sorry.”
“It’s alright!”
“No, noooo, it’s not—“
“It’s a grindcore show, Granade-boy. Shit like that happens—“
“What— what did you call me?”
You could swear the confusion in his voice is laced with a smirk but it’s still plenty loud here at the bar so you open your eyes.
So he has dimples too.
 “What I was saying,” you deflect and your face stings when you smile, “don’t beat yourself up over this… One black eye is enough for one night!”
He tilts his head back and groans. You shiver and mentally mark five mouth-watering spots where you want to bite his neck before he looks back at you; totally heartbroken. “Too soon!”
“Wait! Shouldn’t that be my line?”
“Yes! Exactly,” he shakes his head, a soft smile contrasting the furrowed brows. “You’re way too cool about the fact that some asshole just nearly cracked your skull with his elbow.”
“Exploded,” you explain casually.
“W-what?”
“That’s what it felt like on impact.”
“Ah,” a satisfied noise, smooth, warm. “Granade-boy. Now I get it. Can cross this out as a sign of concussion then.” He carefully removes the ice from your face to look at the bruise. Tilting his head, his eyes rest heavy on your cheek before his gaze travels to your eyes and won’t leave again; it’s galvanic, sends a current down your spine that forces your ribs to expand and your pelvis to twitch on the barstool he ordered you to sit on. “It’s Eddie.”
Eddie takes a step closer, the damp fabric of his shirt ghosting your knees and brings the ice slowly back to your skin, wincing when you do. Sorry, he mouthes silently and breaks into a wide, toothy smile when you roll your eyes playfully.
“Nice to meet you, Eddie.”
“Unbelievable.” The residual red of exertion and excitement on his cheeks deepens again. “Really nice to meet you too... badass bitch.”
Your laugh is a hearty bark; it also hurts but, oh my, is it worth it when Eddie joins you with his smooth, deep cackle. He doesn't stop, even when you lean back, chuckling and moaning, to hold your cheek. His stomach meets your knees, the ice clinks softly as he drops it to the counter. He’s gently holding on to your shoulders, his right hand cold and wet against your skin. “Too soon?” he smirks and you laugh out again.
“What’s your name?” he asks and swallows hard, repeating your name after you like it's a charm. “Can I buy you pizza?”
“They have pizza here?”
“No.”
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misspsychotic · 1 year
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Bestie. A fic on Xavier and Ajax being bros while high? 👀🤭
BESTIE! I GOT YOU!
Warnings: Casual drug use, slightly NSFW conversations, stoned boys being dumb boys.
(For anyone wondering THIS is what Xavier is singing at the end)
“Do we have to go to Crackstones crypt?” Ajax complained. “It’s depressing in there.” 
“We can’t smoke in the Nightshade Library and everywhere else the teachers could find us.” Xavier shrugged, not knowing what to tell him.
Ajax groaned, letting out a long suffering sigh. “Fiiiiine. The shit I do for you.” He grumbled good naturedly.
Xavier rolled his eyes and slapped Ajax on the back. “Once you’re stoned you won’t care where we are.” 
Ajax hated to agree but Xavier was right. 
Sundays were bro days. It was the deal Ajax had made with Wednesday and Enid and Xavier with Vee. 
The canoe trip to the island was quick and easy, the two of them did this so often they could probably navigate the river blind. 
Inside the crypt, Xavier was in charge of grinding the weed while Ajax worked to put two papers together, ready to roll them a nice long fat joint. 
They had their usual corner they liked to hang out in. It was hidden from the doors so if someone did come by they weren’t totally in the open.
“Ta-da!” Ajax held the slightly wonky joint out for inspection. 
“Beautiful. Let’s do this.” 
Joint lit, comfortably slouched, and eyes closed they passed the joint back and forth. 
“So you finally seal the deal with Vee?” Ajax asked, eyes a little red already, a dopey grin on his face.
“You know I haven’t.” Xavier rolled his eyes. “The stupid heat man. I dunno what it is but I’ve never been blue balled so hard in my life.” 
“Blue balled.” Ajax grinned. “Like you don’t just go and jerk off as soon as you can after.” 
“That’s not the point!” Xavier dismissed his comment, shoving Ajax’s shoulder. “Quit hogging.” 
He held his hand out for the joint, taking a long inhale, holding it as long as he could and then exhaling, coughing a little. 
Instantly he could feel his muscles relax, his thoughts starting to slow. He’d needed this. 
“What would you do first?” Ajax asked him. “If the heat thing wasn’t an issue.” 
Xavier didn’t answer right away. His eyes went unfocused and a grin spread on his face as he pictured laying Vee out on his bed, legs spread for him to get his mouth on her. 
“Dude.” Ajax laughed. “Your face.” 
“Shut up!” Xavier blushed, shoving him again.
“Quit shoving, asshole.” Ajax shoved him back, but they were both laughing. 
“Now are you gonna share with the class or just sit there thinking about it?” 
“I wanna know what she tastes like.” Xavier admitted. “Get my face right up in there, legs around my head.” 
“You wanna wear her thighs like earmuffs.” Ajax nodded, sagely. “I get it.” 
Xavier laughed his agreement. “Yeah dude! Totally!” 
Ajax grinned. “I let Enid ride my face on Friday night.” 
“You did not!” Xavier gawked at him. 
“I did.” Ajax smirked, “It’s totally better than just laying between her legs for it.” 
“Serious?” Xavier asked, taking another hit from the joint and offering it back to Ajax.
“Yeah man, like, they control everything from up there. At one point she was grinding so hard I couldn’t breathe.” 
Xavier sat up straight, his right hand coming up in a jaunty salute.
“No dude-” Ajax groaned but was drowned out by Xavier.
“GORY GORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!” Xavier sang dutifully. 
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Ajax sighed.
“Fucking never, man.” Xavier grinned at him. 
Ajax took a hit of the joint and handed it back to Xavier. “You’re the worst best bro ever.” He joked.
“Yeah man, love you too.” Xavier grinned, blowing smoke in his face.
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tavyliasin · 3 months
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Switch Professor Gale Drabble
Just a warmup request while I'm working on a few other things~ Don't worry more proper chapters soon! I'm tapping away over here quite happily. In the meantime, have some Switch vibes with Professor Dekarios to keep you fed~
It had been a long day, by any standards, and the stack of papers was not making it any shorter. Gale rubbed at the furrow between his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose. His assistant was not making this any easier for him. They were supposedly working quietly, but he felt their eyes on him every few minutes, a light blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks as he realised they were undressing him with their lewd little glances. “Could you please just let me concentrate?!” He stood up, uncharacteristically loud as his hands almost shook the floor as well as the desk with the force he slammed down. His assistant, however, just looked up at him innocently. “Professor Dekarios? Is something the matter?” “You know very well what the problem is, my dear. We have an entire night ahead of us if you don’t concentra-” He stopped mid sentence as he saw them gesturing to their piles of papers, the “in” tray far emptier than the “out”. “Oh? I was going to be finished in less than an hour. Do you need help, Professor? Is something troubling you?” Their smirk was ever more infuriating. “Come here.” He demanded, the usual professional veneer completely falling away to several kinds of frustration that had been building for hours. They sauntered around the edge of their desk, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. However… “If you have time to talk back then you have time to put your mouth to better use.” “I thought you’d never ask,” they replied, their confidence refusing to give way to the commanding aura he was so desperately trying to project. Sometimes it worked, and they submitted to him most willingly, but this time… He felt a familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach as his assistant grabbed the edge of his robes by his neck pulling his ear close to their lips. “I thought you were the one who was going to teach me more vocabulary lessons, Professor. You know how keen a student I am and I learn so much better from a practical demonstration.” They hooked their foot behind his legs and pressed on his shoulder with immaculate timing, bringing him to his knees in an instant with a whimper. The last attempt to maintain control slipped away, as the assistant stripped away their clothing, leaving only a lustful hunger in its wake. One which Gale was more than happy to indulge in as he grabbed their hips and moved closer to claim his prize.
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bookaltland · 1 year
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Alternative Landscapes, Short Stories and Flash Fiction - Free in Ebook Formats
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thehollowwriter · 3 months
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Hello, I have never send a request before so I hope this is how it works. Can I please request a scenario where Rollo is way too busy and the reader is trying to get him to take a break, because he seems tired. Thank you ^^
Dw you sent it just fine! ^^
Summary: You try convince Rollo to take a break
Warnings: None
Additional notes: Try spot the reference hehehe
(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)
Take A Break
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"Rollo," Your voice was soft and riddled with concern. You watched him work through an obnoxiously large pile of papers with a frown. "Rollo, you need to take a break, you've been here for ages."
It took a moment or two for Rollo to respond. Slowly, his gaze left his work to look at you with tired eyes burdened by large black circles.
"I need to finish this," He insisted, not for the first time. "It has to be done."
Before he could turn back to the endless collection of papers, you grabbed his hand.
"It's a beautiful summer's day." You pressed. "There's a lake I know in a nearby park. We can sit under the trees for a while, maybe get a snack, then you can come back."
Rollo sighed and tapped his pen. "Mon chéri, I have so much on my plate, I don't have time..."
He trailed off, blinking as your face morphed into a wide-eyed mournful expression.
"Please?"
"I-" Rollo started, flushing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Puppy dog eyes? Seriously?"
"As serious as the dead." You insisted.
Rollo gazed at you with a single eyebrow raised before closing his eyes and sighing in defeat.
"Alright. Where shall we go?"
......................................
A/N: I hope you enjoyed! These are super fun to write
Tagging: @distant-velleity (lmk if you'd rather not be tagged)
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shinakazami1 · 8 months
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TBG Shortfic
I wanted to write the meeting after the years I've mentioned on my TBG Davey ask blog (@cake-bread) in this post. It's nearly 2k words long and I do wodner if I should start posting my drafts on my Ao3 Jeueuehw but i hope someone will enjoy this! If you do pls let me know huehue
===
For Davey, the small game con felt like a nice change of pace.
He was happy that the game reception was good but he didn't miss the sense of being overwhelmed and constantly perceived. The days when he still had the energy to respond to emails and comments about his work were over. That didn't mean he wasn't grateful - quite the opposite. After all the delays, seeing the game published and still appreciated helped with his worry of him losing touch with his work.
But he didn't like how much his face was tied to the game. He wished he never uploaded the trailer on his comedy page. Or that he never mentioned it to anyone. Ever since the release of the original mod, TSP became him. He felt a bit sad that his love project made Kevan to be known only as The Narrator. It used to be funny a decade ago. And while Kevan agreed to work again with them and seemed happy, he did seem a bit tired.
At least he didn't judge Davey for destroying passion for his work.
He was worried he lost his own passion, too. Until he went to the con.
The first day went very well. In there, he felt like just a gamer once again. Except for his buds that invited him there, nobody else seemed to recognise him.
It was nice to just be seen as another fan of the media and nothing more.
There were no questions about why the release took so long. Or about what the Bucket meant. Or what got him inspired to create Gambhorra'ta.
Or if The Beginner's Guide would ever get an ultra deluxe release, too.
He sighed. That question was on his mind for a while. But he didn't trust anyone with getting to those games. Especially if it meant changing the engine as it did with TSP - it would completely miss the point of Coda choosing Source. And just trying to add or change any visuals wouldn't work at all.
He didn't even want to consider recording new lines.
Davey sipped on the soda in the red plastic cup and tried to see where he could leave it. With no table feeling safe or stable enough, he decided to go away from the retro game stand and went to his bud, asking them to hold the cup for a moment. Once they pointed him in the bathroom direction, he went there and stared at the long line.
He didn't understand how gamers could share the same bladder but that sight made him wonder if it was why most irl gamer meetings were speedrun related.
Seeing that the line didn't move in 3 minutes, he decided to get some fresh air.
He didn't know how much different it would feel than the dense air inside. It felt like a metaphor for his life but he didn't really have the mind space for figuring that one out. Instead, he focused on how dry his mouth felt, reminding him why he wasn't drinking sweet drinks as often anymore.
He noticed that a few people left the building and went to some sort of a shop in the distance. Based on their age and the alcohol restriction, he could figure out what they were buying, even if he couldn't see the writing.
'I really should go to the eye doctor finally', Davey thought.
The darkening cloudy sky felt like a timer. With no umbrella or even a jacket to cover himself with, the trip to the store seemed a bit risky. But for a small price of a beer or two, his friend would gladly come for him with the umbrella they had. And since he acknowledged the desert in his throat, he knew it would drive him crazy for the rest of the day. And that soda would only get rid of any droplet left on the sandy land.
As he walked towards the oasis, he looked back at the school building the con was taking place at. It reminded him of April 2009 and...
He decided to speed up. He really didn't like how his mind kept shifting to Coda. He thought he was doing so well of late. Everybody told him to move on.
Even he couldn't replay the games anymore.
Feeling a raindrop hit the tip of his nose just as he reached the shop felt like a sign. Whatever it was trying to point him to, he refused to acknowledge.
He looked at the prices of the water bottles and took the smaller one, feeling his wallet screaming. But so was his throat - if he didn't save it soon enough.
He didn't expect the line to seem longer than the bathroom one. He thought it was fortunate that it was due to guys coming in packs. He soon felt disappointed, seeing each one pay for their own drink. What happened to splitting the bill? Nobody liked to wait. So it felt counter productive, especially since this line felt more impatient than the last one.
Maybe it was due to the sound of the rain drops falling on the shop windows, reminding everybody of the weather. In just a few minutes, the school was not visible behind the wall of water. And more people seemed to come in, just to find some nice shelter.
Davey stared at the cigarette packages and tried to read anything off the labels. He knew his eyesight was getting worse but he didn't know it had gotten that bad. For the past 3 years, he spent most of the time behind a screen. Even if he finished most of his work on the game early in the development, he tried his best to support the rest of the crew. So he didn't really notice the change.
He snapped out of his thoughts when the cashier repeated it was his turn. The crowd felt only growing so the line moving felt like a minor thing.
The instant he got the receipt, he opened the water bottle and started drinking. He knew his throat wouldn't be grateful and would still feel dry after it but he wanted to forget about it for a moment. Just like he wanted to forget-
"David?"
Davey tried to dry the water stain off his lap with the receipt to no avail.
An overpriced water bottle, wasted. It brought the storm into the shop.
But something else brought it into his heart.
Even if his name was a version of David, he wasn't one. It was the same like Sam not always standing for Samuel or Samantha. It was a normal assumption to have and he just corrected people on that.
There were a few exceptions, though. And life just couldn't help but torment him about one of them that day.
He was about to turn over when he felt a hand brush his leg. Frozen, he watched it pick up the water bottle and stand by his side.
The last time they did that was at the bus stop over a decade ago. It was the last time they saw each other.
Coda felt just a tiny bit taller now. But the same cold aura was still there.
And the distance felt too small but too big at the same time. Memories felt within reach while longed words got stuck in an already dry throat.
He could only make himself stare at the face he thought he had already forgotten.
His mind felt both empty and full at the same time. Images of every rendition his mind made of this scene played before his eyes but none of them could match the dream-like feel of reality.
There was no anger, no disappointment. There was no shouting, laughing or running away.
Somehow, just standing just like that, side by side, never crossed his mind.
It felt as if he still had a chance to ask if he could stay over for that night. Maybe everything wouldn't turn out to be as tragic then.
He stared at the face but felt like he couldn't see it. As if his gaze pierced through it, not noticing the details or seeing the disappointed face he drilled in his mind after reading the message in the Tower for the first time.
He felt something on his right hand. He quickly looked over and saw a woman offer him a handkerchief. Without thinking, he took it ,thanked her and started to rub on the wet stain. His moves were automatic and he wondered if he wouldn't wake up in a moment with a saliva stain on his pajama pants for the third night in a row. Sleeping in one bed with 3 men was not the most comfortable but it would be way better than whatever nightmare he was having.
But if it was a dream, he had to get the courage. His actions didn't matter in these, after all.
Unfortunately, he knew it was a lie. Reality liked to show its sense of comedy timing and he knew he was the punchline.
"Do you have any socials?", he said, looking back at the other man.
He instantly cursed himself for not going on any other line from the 200+ ones he kept coming up with for the occasion. It still wasn't the worst one he could have said but that didn't make his chest any lighter.
It felt like a test he didn't know the answers to.
Fortunately, life did hold all the pieces.
"Yeah."
"What are they?"
He didn't know how he had the confidence to keep speaking. Maybe this was the way his throat was thanking him for earlier, even if it felt as if it was burrowed in dirt at that moment. He himself felt like he was drowning in some quick sand, getting consumed by the growing anxiety that somehow didn't show up on his face.
"Give me your phone."
The witnesses probably would think that Coda was some sort of a bully. He caused the other man to spill a drink, freeze in place and then put in his pin code and give away his phone without any discussion.
He couldn't see the screen. With how long Coda was typing and looking over at him every now and then, he wondered if the man opened the notes app and wrote anything.
Maybe that was the only way Coda could talk to him anymore.
But he felt there was no backing off. He was ready to face whatever he would be shown. He told himself so.
And yet, somehow, a locked Twitter account with the word 'pending' on the right was not something he expected to see.
Nor did he expect to feel a hand pat his shoulder.
Something about the casualty felt like a stab in the heart.
He would prefer to be yelled at. Instead, the sound of a bell ringing and the door closing filled his ears. He watched Coda put his hood on and join the school behind the waterfall.
Davey did expect that he would in the end get recognized on the con.
He didn't know if he would have preferred being asked about the significance of the Fern or the whole fever dream he had just experienced.
He went to buy another water bottle and a beer for his friend. He couldn't focus on the rest of the con, searching for a familiar figure.
Two days later, the pending button changed into the following one.
He didn't expect to get a 'Hey.' the same day.
Nor that he would ever again be able to say 'Hi, Coda.'
The rainy weather was no more.
But the sun was shining a bit too brightly.
===
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