#so I'm going to throw their names in the tags when it may be them but I'm not sure

[081314]

Twisted Wonderland - 2024 Player Birthday Login Greetings

The player birthday login greetings have just updated today on the JP server for the fourth anniversary, and I've translated them below.

These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.

Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

❤️: 'Sup, Yuu! Happy bday. 'Kay, time for the party. I'm gonna swing by this one restaurant in town and pick us up some grub, so you wait here and- Hey, hey, I'm not trying to trick you! I do know how to celebrate birthdays, thank you very much.

Cater Diamond

♦️: Happy bday, Yuu-chan ☆ Didja post anything bday related yet on Magicam today? No? No problem, just leave it to me! I'm basically a Magicam pro at this point. I'll take the perfect pic, come up with the perfect hash tag… Just think of it as, like, the Caycay bday special~

Deuce Spade

♠️: Happy birthday, Yuu! I'm going to go buy your present now, so- …Huh? You're saying since I fixed up that light for you in Ramshackle the other day, I don't need to get you anything? Come on, don't say that. You're my friend, so let me do this for you. It'd make me a lot more happier than if I didn't get you anything, to be honest.

Riddle Rosehearts

🌹: Happy birthday, Yuu. Thank you so much for always looking after my students. Truth is, we'll be holding a salon at Heartslabyul this weekend, and as part of my well wishes to you, I'm going to have you join us. Ah, my apologies. I can see you're quite nervous, but you needn't worry - I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way.

Trey Clover

🍀: Happy birthday. Now about your gift… I did get you something, but it's, erm… When I was talking with the other students about your gift, one person would say to get you this, and then another'd say, no, get that, and after a lot of hemming and hawing I chose… this t-shirt. I don't even know anymore why I picked out this design, honestly… Ugh, if you could just go ahead and start laughing now, I'd appreciate it.

Savanaclaw

Jack Howl

🐺: Today's your birthday, right? You make any new goals for the year? What, you're gonna smoke me in class? Ha! That's the best joke I've heard in a while. But alright, I'll take you on. If you get a better grade than me on our next exam, I'll buy you something.

Leona Kingscholar

🦁: Yeah, yeah, happy birthday. …Why are you settin' up that chessboard? What, you've been takin' lessons just to beat me? An' lemme guess, now you're challengin' me to a match. You got guts - for a herbivore, at least. So whaddya gonna wager, then? Just "playin' to see who wins" ain't gonna cut it.

Ruggie Bucchi

🍩: Happy birthday! Yer dear ol' Ruggie Senpai whipped up just the perfect thing for ya. Ta-da! Yer very own fishin' pole! Handmade by yours truly. …Ooh, I know that look. I bet yer thinking', "ain't that just a piece a crap?" I'm tellin' ya, fish'll be linin' up to throw themselves at this bad boy soon as it hits the water! Listen, I know how much starvin' sucks, an' I can tell you know that, too. Next time yer stomach starts howlin' at ya, now you can just catch yerself somethin' to eat!

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙: I wish you a very happy birthday. Have you already decided what you'd like for a gift? I'd be glad to arrange-… My, what excellent taste! That would be quite the challenge for the average collector to acquire… but not for me, of course! I guarantee you'll have it in your hands before you even realize it.

Floyd Leech

🦈: Heya, Little Shrimpy. Today's your birthday, right? Here, I got something for ya. Let's see, we got some gummies that taste kinda funny, and some cookies…. they're hard as rocks, though. Oh, and some mushy jerky, too. Super cool, huh? Oh yeah, and all this stuff expires today, by the way. You better not let any of it go to waste, since it's a gift an' all. Kay?

Jade Leech

🐬: My warmest wishes to you on your birthday. May this be another fruitful year for you. By the way, Yuu-san, have you already had lunch today? You haven't? Excellent, for I was hoping to prepare something for you. Worry not, I can assure you I have only the utmost best of intentions in mind. Heh heh.

Scarabia

Jamil Viper

🐍: Yuu, happy birthday. I know it's not much, but I got you this. Ramshackle's been around for so long I can't even begin to imagine how many insects have made it their home over the years. But if you use that product, you can wipe them all out in a blink of an eye. I can personally vouch for how well it works, so do go ahead and give it try. Sooner rather than later, please.

Kalim Al Asim

☀️: Yuu, happy birthday! Here's your gift… Ah ha ha! Were you surprised? I made you that pop-up card. There's these flowers we give to people on their birthdays back home in Scalding Sands, so I tried making a bunch of them with paper. Turned out pretty good, right? Nice and flashy.

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

🍎: Happy birthday! I thought long and hard about what to get you, and ended up going with a pair of fingerless gloves! The design on em's just great, don't you think? I thought they'd be a good choice since you can still use your phone and stuff without them getting in the way. They already look super cool, and once you break them in, then they'll really start to shine. Wear them as much as you can, okay?

Rook Hunt

🏹: I've been waiting for you, Trickster, so that I might give you my birthday well wishes. A wonderful day calls for making wonderful memories, and to that end, I've constructed the perfect itinerary for us. We'll start off with two theater performances, followed by a live poetry recital, and then we'll wrap things up with a movie this evening. There shan't be a dull moment today. Now come! The theater awaits!

Vil Schoenheit

👑: Happy birthday, Yuu. …Hm? You'd like me to come to your party? And you you even went and made sure there'll be healthy food options available for me? …Hah, that's quite thoughtful of you. Very well, then. I'll stop by. Just don't forget - you should consider it an honor to receive my well wishes.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

💀: Okay, time to pretend we're all chummy with each other and spout the usual "HaPpY BiRtHdAy" garbage… Eep! D-did you hear all that? U-Umm… Happy birthday... Sorry, but I didn't get you anything. I didn't even know it was your bday, so… What, you're happy just 'cause I wished you happy birthday? Are you serious? *sigh* Okay, I'll order something online later and have it sent to Ramshackle. It's just gonna be something small, tho.

Ortho Shroud

🤖: Happy birthday! Here's your gift. Go ahead, open it! Heh heh, did you notice what's on it? I used my lasers to engrave "Happy Birthday!" and some other well wishes on that glass tumbler. It was difficult controlling the output when doing the finer details, but I think it came out pretty nice. I hope you like it!

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇: Ah, that's right. Today's your birthday, isn't it? Goodness, kids really do grow up so fast… Kufufu. Oh, don't be so sour. I was just doing my grandpa bit, the boys at the dorm never indulge me. Now then, here's your present: a CD I made just for you! It's jam-packed with my most heartfelt screamo performances, and I hope you enjoy every second of it.

Malleus Draconia

🐲: It's your birthday today, isn't it, Child of Man? …? What's the matter? Your face looks awfully stern… Ah, now I understand. You're having trouble carrying around all those presents. Here, allow me to send them to Ramshackle for you using my magic. You needn't worry, it's but a trivial spell for me. Now then, I hope you enjoy today to the fullest.

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡: Today is your birthday, if I do recall… What? You wish for me to attend your party? What a boorish joke. I've no time to take part in such a… What? THE YOUNG LORD SHALL BE ATTENDING!? YOU SHOULD'VE MENTIONED THAT TO BEGIN WITH! Good grief… You truly are an unpleasant little human, you know that? Now then, tell me at once where the party shall be held, and at what time!

Silver

⚔️: Happy birthday. Hm? You want to know what this cord is? It's actually your present. I heard about this from Lilia Senpai, but… apparently, they say that if you wrap some string around your wrist or ankle, and it breaks over time, then your wish will come true. I wove this for you, so that your wish can come true some day. I know it's pretty crude looking, but please go ahead and take it, if you'd like.

Ramshackle

😺: Today's your birthday? Happy birthday! …Huh? Where's your present? Oh, come oooon. You're my number one henchman! Ain't that a present enough? Okay, fine. Your lap's always super hard when I sit on it, so I'll give ya a good ol' fashioned paw pad massage!

(Crowley and Rollo's messages remain unchanged)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst jp #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #jamil viper #kalim al asim #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #voice lines

[keyotos]

the only exception

summary ⎯ where blade thinks there is no more hope for love, but you may be the only exception.

tags ⎯ soft blade. mentions of blade's past. reader uses his real name (yingxing) like once on accident. emotional rollercoaster. blade goes through the 5 stages of grief except its not grief it's love. blade is bad at feelings.

tana's thoughts ⎯ gave into the voices and i starting writing this.

the xianzhou is not like it used to be, yet it has not changed that much either. at least, that's what blade noticed as he stood by one of the railings at starskiff haven. he watched the starskiffs come and go as he stood there, motionless.

he had a cup of tea from the tea parlor nearby. some customers wanted him to engage in tea discourse with them because he was an "outworlder," but with one glare from him, they knew better than to press on. so now, he was alone in the dark with sunglasses on.

starskiffs seemed to improve throughout the years. his favorite snack stand was gone, one he used to visit with you. blade tried to ignore the burning sensation in the middle of his chest at the thought. but the stupid mungbean soda vending machines were still there. damn them, he thought.

blade took off his sunglasses momentarily as he rubbed his eyes. sunglasses were obviously meant to be worn in the sun, not in the dark: they were causing him eye strain. he tried to be as subtle as possible, not trying to attract any cloud knights or realm-keeping employees. his face was still on a wanted poster, after all.

"ahem."

blade turned back to find a cloud knight with a mung bean soda in their hand. his mind instantly turned to you, given that you were also a cloud knight who loved mung bean soda (unless that changed as well), but he snapped back to the current situation. he was about to be arrested. the cloud knight cornered him, spear in hand as they slightly lifted up their helmet to take a sip out of their drink.

have cloud knights gotten sloppier? why are they drinking soda when they were about to arrest someone? blade furrowed his eyebrows, but still got into a defensive position.

he was about to swing at the cloud knight until they held their hands up in surrender, "woah, dude," they slowly said, raising their hands up, "i'm not gonna arrest you," they placed their mung bean soda on the railing, and removed their hat.

and it was you. he was just thinking about you, and you appeared. the sight felt surreal. you, who he had been so close with all those years ago. you, who became his first friend on the luofu. you, who still lingered in his mind after all these years, who he thought about even when the mara was affecting him.

you've changed. though you haven't exactly aged, you look older. you look exhausted; your face didn't glow as it used to. blade thinks he is partial to blame for that. your posture is profoundly straight and no longer slouched⎯something you used to struggle with.

the wind blows through your hair, scattering some leaves around with it. your expression is neutral as you throw all your armor on the ground and dust yourself off. there is no smile adorning your face. everything feels so identical, but so different.

his stance softened, but he didn't let up. when you saw that, you only sighed in response. after kicking some stray pieces of armor to the side, you lean your back on the rail as you sipped your soda. the sound of the armor colliding together on the floor made blade cringe.

"i don't actually wear armor, by the way," you swung the drink in his vicinity, offering him a sip using a hand gesture. when he didn't respond, you took another swig. "i have my own uniform. pretty cool, isn't it?" you tilt your head down towards your outfit.

blade doesn't understand. why were you speaking to him as if you two were still friends? could you recognize him under the glasses? it has been so long, he'd be surprised if you recognized him at all.

blade tries to maintain his cover. he is silent while you raise an eyebrow inquisitively, wondering why this stranger wasn't responding to you. you're waiting for him to speak, blade notices. he doesn't say anything. you tilt your head to the side, and blade tilts his head the other way.

you sigh, "you know, not many people are out here so late," you sip out of your soda can, looking at blade while he looks at the starskiffs. you continue, "an old friend of mine used to do this. we'd go out every night and create elaborate stories about strangers, and then stare at starskiffs."

you're telling blade about himself. or, his past self anyway. there's a present ache in his heart, hearing how you speak about him. blade feels like an imposter, standing here with sunglasses on while you talk about him. you sound melancholic, like you miss him. a stupid thing for you, blade thought.

"he's gone now," you turned and leaned forward, now watching the starskiffs with blade. he gets a sense of deja vu, and the feeling sends chills all over his body. you rest your head on your arms on the rail, "i miss him though. he was a little awkward, but he was kind."

"and sometimes," you turn your head towards blade, "he was a little annoying. like he would keep hating on my soda," you hold your soda up to blade, but all he could think about was how you just called him annoying, "or he'd force me to go to bed early. coddle me. nag at me to do my laundry⎯that was very annoying. like, hello? i'm an adult, i could totally do my own laundry," you ranted as you watched the starskiffs.

"maybe you should've done your laundry earlier," he mumbled to himself. he made sure it was low enough that only he would be able to hear it. if you noticed, you didn't say anything; you were still focused on the starskiffs passing by.

blade takes the time to look at you. to study you. it felt like everything about you was so different, but you were still the same. you still chatted about anything to strangers (something he always chided you about). you still drank mung bean soda. you didn't have that growth spurt you dreamed about.

but you were quieter. ironic, because you just jabbered about the annoyances blade had caused you years ago. but you didn't give out too many details. you didn't mouth off about what tea parlor was best, or recent gossip from earlier. you kept things to yourself. blade doesn't know if he should be happy or not.

something was off. there was a wall between you now. and it felt so wrong. blade knows he isn't entitled to anything⎯not anymore, at least. but the feeling of disconnect between two people who were once rooted together physically pained him. even with everything that has happened, he did not want to see you like this.

"i hope he visits soon," you look at him with eyes that glitter among the stars. you're still hopeful; that has not changed. you speak like the sun is shining in your body, and your words are laced with warmth that eases enough for blade to let his guard down. that's when he realized that you're still glowing, and you never stopped.

but your words also bring a stabbing pain into his heart. why are you still longing for him? you should have moved on. you should have found someone better for you. someone who will not harm you at any given moment. but here you are, missing him. hoping he comes back.

"seriously? i just told you that i missed you and hoped you came back, and you say nothing??" you grimaced, looking exasperated. there's a slight crack in the wall now, but blade doesn't notice.

he had other things to concentrate on. like what you just said.

blade did not find this very amusing. his eyes widened underneath his sunglasses and he took a few steps back. after all these years, you could still find him in a crowd full of people. it was love he did not deserve, yet still begrudgingly craved.

"how did you know it was me?" was all blade could utter. he was too alarmed to ask any other questions, or press on your story. or to ask more about you.

you glower and huff, "so he does speak," you cross your arms over the railing as you turn to make eye contact with your past ally.

"how did you know?" blade snarled. he didn't intend for his words to come out as harsh as they did, and the moment they left his mouth, he wanted to shove the words back in and eat them. he had forgotten how you made him feel like an idiot sometimes just by doing absolutely nothing.

your eyes widen and your eyebrows slightly jump up; blade wishes he could erase that expression from his head permanently. however, instead of reacting to it, your composure remains calm. it unsettles blade; he has never seen you so calm before. when you two were young, you got into arguments with those who barely picked a fight with you. you were straightforward and aggressive: blade shouldn't have admired that about you, but nevertheless, he did.

you're less temperamental, and blade doesn't know if he likes it or not. he was worried. after a lifetime of emptiness and recklessness, blade worries. he worries about you: your life, your job, your wellbeing. he worries if you got promoted or not, or if you're living happily.

do you have a partner? blade tries to ignore the flames surrounding his heart as he thinks about your love life.

"oh please. after all the years we've spent together, you'd think i wouldn't be able to spot you in a crowd?" you let out a dry and curt laugh, "just because your hair got darker and you changed your outfit, does not mean you are unrecognizable."

"not to me, anyway," you quietly add, turning your gaze away from him and back to the starskiffs. there's an overwhelming feeling that was welling up in blade's body. it wasn't mara, because it felt more peaceful. but the urge was still strong. he wanted to grab your chin and turn you back towards him; he wanted you to look at him again and explain. to tell him about everything. he doesn't care about the topic, but he will listen no matter what.

blade feels foolish. how could one conversation (if you could even call this a conversation) make him feel so lovestruck? every single feeling for you⎯that he thought he had discarded a long time ago⎯reappeared out of thin air. it all came rushing back at him: your personality, your terrible jokes, and every single thing he grew to love about you. blade tried so hard to dismiss those feelings in the past century, and in the midst of a few minutes, all his past work crumbled.

when blade doesn't say anything, you take a sip out of your drink. the silence is tense; it is opposed to the once comfortable silences you two shared while watching starskiffs. blade thinks that, in another life, nothing would have changed: he would not have become mara-struck, and you two would watch starskiffs fly for hours on end.

but everything has changed now. and there's no going back to fix it. blade will shove down every morsel of affection he feels for you again. and this time, they won't come back up. starting tonight.

you give him a small smile, "so, wanna tell me what you've been up to?"

he will shove down every morsel of affection. starting tomorrow night. another crack in the wall between the both of you.

the feeling of wanting to capture someone's smile is maddening. you drive him crazy, and you make him more insane than mara ever could. all of this because of one smile? blade pictures your small smile once again. it's incomparable to your true smile, though. one where you're showing all your teeth and your eyes crinkle with such bemusement it drives him amuck.

once he pictures your toothy smile, he sinks deeper into the talons of endearment.

"aren't you supposed to arrest me?" he deflects, trying to stem away from his previous lovesick thoughts. maybe, if you arrest him now, he could flee from the luofu forever. maybe then, he'd have a reason to avoid you for life.

you make a 'pfft' noise with your mouth, and the sound is familiar and stupid. it has no reason to make his heart flutter the way it just did.

"if i wanted to arrest you, then you'd be in the hall of karma ages ago," you boast, "luckily for you though, i'm on a break."

"didn't know cloud knights slacked off now," blade rolls his eyes under his sunglasses. he thinks that if he's rude enough towards you, then you'd get the message that he's changed, and you would leave. he's not the same person he was before. if he didn't deserve you back then, he most definitely did not deserve you now.

"well, i'm not a cloud knight anymore," you step closer to him, "i'm a lieutenant."

so you got promoted. blade deeply tries to ignore how his breaths get more shallow after the mention of your promotion.

instead of congratulating you, blade instead replies with, "so you're the same rank as that kid that follows the general around?"

your face falls, and dread swarms throughout his body, spreading through every vein and artery and organ. every regret blade has does not compare with whatever he just said. blade finds that, whenever he thinks about regret, your face has always remained through his sea of remorse. you are the one thing he regrets in many different ways.

blade regrets meeting you. he regrets indulging in your offers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. he regrets spending his nights with you. he regrets every time his heart leapt multiple beats whenever you were near. he regrets letting his guard down around you, because even now⎯whenever he is with you⎯he feels incredibly relaxed, despite not having to see you in centuries.

he regrets you. he regrets not being able to say goodbye to you. he regrets leaving you with so many qualms. he regrets not being able to see you change. he regrets the fact that he never got to confess to you. he regrets the fact that he still loves you, because why else would he be feeling this way?

the idiot keeps his mouth shut, even though he wants to apologize. "i didn't mean it," he wanted to say, "i'm sure you are very capable now. you stand up more straighter and you look more put together. not that you didn't look put together before. well, actually you didn't, but that's not the point."

it occured to blade that he was rambling about you in his mind. he was describing you in his mind. he was going crazy. nobody else notices these things about you. but blade physically could not tear his eyes away from you. the more he stared, the more he noticed more: such as the way your shoulders were more upright, your breathing was slow and even, and you surprisingly didn't look like you wanted to kill him. the you from centuries ago would have thrown him off the ledge.

you sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose, "i see you've met yanqing."

blade says nothing, which simply prompts you to keep talking. a tiny slither of comfort enter's blade's body: it was refreshing to see that after years, some things will never change.

"he's jing yuan's retainer," blade internally (and bitterly) revels in the fact that you don't use any formalities with jing yuan anymore, "he can be a bit... much. but it makes sense. he's only a kid, you know? i like him," you move your soda can to the side to make room for your arms. you're leaning on the railing again, and you were not looking at blade anymore. it should not scatter uneasiness around his nerves.

he wants to share an anecdote of his own. blade yearns for connection with you for just once more. when he is around you, there's an ache in his heart. it was always there; past and present. he thought it would be subtle, like a symptom of a short-term illness. but soon he realized, the symptom he shrugged off was a manifestation of something bigger. and blade never truly recognized how long his sickness would last. because here he is right now, sick as a dog in your presence.

if wanting to fuel your everlasting fire was a sickness, blade decided that he would be diagnosed as terminal.

blade tsks at your statement. you are not impressed; your face looking slack and skeptical. there have been many times where he has been on the receiving end of that look, yet he feels the air swirl all around in his stomach every time you look at him that way. he also tries to slow his heart rate down: there should be no reason why he should be elated at the fact that you're looking at him.

"don't give me that," you cross your arms, "he reminds me of you," you pause, letting the silence overtake the both of you. there are so many unsaid things that the silence feels full, yet still too quiet. you know that the past is a sensitive topic for blade (and you as well, but you choose to dwell on that another night).

"back when we were kids, anyway," you quickly add on.

blade scoffs. scoffs. he does not see himself in yanqing, and he also does not know how you came up to that conclusion. it was ridiculous and strange. blade had to fight a scowl off his face: yanqing and him were nothing alike. if anything, the child was the spitting image of the general.

at least time hasn't changed your terrible analogies.

"terrible?" you point a finger at him, nearing his sunglasses. oh. he said that out loud. "i'll have you know, my analogies are great!"

"you compared me to yanqing, who resembles jing yuan the most," blade shifts his head to the side as he crosses his arms. your finger made his glasses shift down slightly. he could see you a lot better now without the dark obstructing his view, and he internally curses at the wanted posters for being the (indirect) reason he has to wear the glasses.

you let out a sound of disbelief, which resembled blade's scoff and your huff from earlier, "first of all, i was describing temperament. second, terrible?!?"

"if you were describing temperament, then that child would be your twin," he says, trying to fight off the feeling of his lips turning up. this feels familiar. it feels homely, almost. the world melts away when he is around you. every person, place, worry: disintegrated away by your warmth. did you know that? how do you do that? how do you make all the problems in the world disappear so easily?

you let out a breathy laugh, turning away from blade one more time. except, this time, you turn back, a grin evident on your face. it's dark in starskiff haven at the moment, but blade is sure that he just saw the sun in your smile. out of his peripheral vision, he looks to see if anyone else has noticed. have they noticed the light coming from you? how do they notice notice it?

the world continues to move, but with you, it seems that everything is perfectly still.

"i'll have you know, i worked on that whole temperament thing," you held up a hand to his face, "i'm chill now."

"oh really?" blade skeptically raises an eyebrow. you can see it through the crack in his facade left by the sunglasses. you can see his eyes a little bit more clearer.

"oh yeah," you drag out, taking a long sip of your soda. you turn on your back and spread your arms across the railings, mimicking a tired soldier, "i'm chill."

and this feels so normal, like if it was a typical night on the luofu. you and him spending time together once again. everything fell back into place so easily, as if the events of all those years ago never happened. why was it so easy?

various emotions coarse through his body, each feeling worse than the last. he can't stay. he can't live. he knows that the longer he stays here with you, the harder leaving you gets. but things have changed, even if you have not. you probably couldn't even love him the same either, logistically speaking. there were too many obstacles standing between the both of you: loving him was impossible.

he still does not understand why you still speak to him.

greeted by his silence, you choose to continue the conversation further, "this soda really helped," you slide the drink over to him again, "it's been a few years. you should try it again."

"a few years, huh?" blade eyes the drink. biggest understatement of the year.

"yeah," you eye him. your eyes are telling him to say something. blade, in all of his fearlessness, is scared. he has not been scared in a long time. the feelings of fear rushing back into him leave him stranded to his own devices, and he has no clue how to react. he used to turn to you for these things, but now, you are the reason for his fear.

you step closer to him. you are close enough that your shoulders are now touching. when you speak, blade tries to control the agitation growing in the pit of his stomach. destructive thoughts impede and pervase through his mind.

"they hate you."

"things will never be the same."

"whatever you had once, it has all gone down the drain now."

"please try the mung bean soda."

what?

blade snapped out of his head to see you holding up your drink right next to his face. he leaned his head backwards as he was met with your pleading eyes.

you took him out of his trance like it was nothing. you didn't have abilities like kafka did, yet you were able to take him out of his spiral using only six words. how was it that everything surrounding you became so easy?

"i'm not drinking that," blade says with a stern voice. he hopes that his glasses hide the panic that was once apparent in his eyes.

"c'mon," you begged, "just one sip⎯"

"why are you even doing this?" blade irritatedly snapped.

you raise an eyebrow and pretend to not know what he was talking about, "because i want you to try new things...?"

"you know what i mean."

you set down the soda can again and let out a long sigh. you run your hands through your hair, and blade thinks this is it. this is the moment where you snap back like you usually would. this is the part where you tell him that he should leave. he's too difficult, too hard to love.

"did you think i was lying back when i said i missed you?" your entire face softened. there was no light-heartened smirk or grin. you look sad. there are no other words to describe how else you look except sad. blade could not think of any other words. all he could focus on was you.

"i wasn't lying," you say, sounding more desperate than before, "i miss you so much, yin⎯blade." your tone turns sharp when you say his name now. this is it, blade tells himself, this is the part where you leave.

"you matter to me," you eunicate, "i still believe in you. i don't care about the past; i'm not letting it hold me back. which, i know is probably wrong on some level, but i don't care. because i miss you a lot."

"it's not even the fact that i miss us from before," you're rambling now. blade does not have the heart to stop you, "but i just miss you. blade or yingxing, i couldn't care less. i miss our late night talks, so when i saw you here tonight, i jumped at the opportunity to talk to you," you threw your hands up in the air, and then ran another hand through your hair, "and when we spoke⎯even with everything that happened⎯everything felt so easy while talking to you. and everything was okay. and i just wanted that so badly," your voice trailed off. blade swore he could hear it crack a little.

you had felt the same way he did. blade does not know if he was just consumed by an overwhelming sense of air flowing through his chest, or feeling something drop in his chest after you said what you said.

"sorry," you had nothing to apologize for, "i just word-dumped on you," you were using another one of your weird terms again, "i just wanted to let you know that i've always missed you. i've missed everything about you. and i don't want to let you go."

i still love you.

you don't say that. you finish your tangent with a long sigh and another swig of your soda can. it's almost empty. mentally, you feel like that soda can right now. you just dumped years worth of feelings on blade, and he responds with silence.

this is it, you think, this is where he leaves.

but he doesn't. he brings you closer. blade grabs your wrist before you can put the drink back down, and he brings the can to his lips. he faces the fact that he just put his lips where yours were. for a brief second, he imagines that he was pressing his lips onto yours⎯not the soda can.

blade takes back everything he said earlier. he does not regret you whatsoever. he yearns for you. he needs you to function. he wants you: all the time.

he does not regret meeting you. he is not a believer of gods, but he wants to praise whichever higher power that allowed your fate to intertwine with his. he does not regret spending every moment of his time with you; those have been some of the happiest memories in his life.

most of all, he does not regret loving you, because who would regret the warmth of an everlasting flame?

love has been something blade has lived without for many years. but it all comes back so effortlessly with you. and now he realizes why: he loves you like air fans flames. he will keep on giving into your love, so long as you are still there. it doesn't matter when or where: it just matters if you are there.

"i thought you didn't like mung bean soda," you look at his ear rather than his face, not ready for rejection.

"you wanted me to try something new, didn't you?" blade only looked at you, wrist still in hand. he ponders how he was ever scared of your love.

“i didn’t think you would try it so soon,” you pathetically laughed.

“sooner than you’d think,” he quietly mumbled, only so the two of you could hear it. his fingers were grasping the top of your hands as he still held onto your wrist.

“look,” you place the drink down, slinking your hand out of blade’s hold, “i know you’re probably going to be gone soon. that’s fine. couldn’t really expect you to stay because of your… you know. job,” you awkwardly explain, tucking your hands behind your back.

“but,” you sounded more optimistic, and it seemed as though the street lights all lit up, “you know that friend i was telling you about? the annoying one?” blade rolls his eyes, you only laugh at his reaction, “i hope that he visits more often.”

hope. you hope for him to come back. you hope for more. blade hopes for more too. he wants more, actually. craves it.

but he plays hard to get, “well, if you keep calling your friend ‘annoying’ i doubt he’ll visit as often as you’d like,” and he smirks. you have to bite your lip, hard, to restrain your giddy smile.

“well, i was just telling it as it is,” and it’s easy again. and you want this as much as blade does. and this is hope. this is hope that, even after everything, you’re still here and love is still alive. the wall is broken so easily.

“mhm, okay.”

“yup!”

“i’ll see if i can sort something out,” blade tells you, taking another drink of your soda. he’s emptied at this point. he’s only taking the “drink” so he could try to hide his (growing) blush from you.

“i thought you ‘weren’t going to visit’ as often,” you pouted, rolling your eyes.

“well, i never said that. i said your friend was going to do that. just giving you some advice, that’s all,” he teased. you felt your heart swell up: everything was going to be fine.

“your advice is shit.”

“you’re shit.”

yeah. everything will be okay.

if this looks familiar it’s bc this is an expanded ver of the xianzhou men hcs i did like a week ago. this was from blades part and i liked it sm i wrote more. wish i could have done the end a little bit more justice but i am TIREDDDD it was 4:30 in the morning.

but if u made it all the way down here i hope u enjoyed!! i put my tanussy in this and i wrote for like 5 hrs so pls enjoy LMAO

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #this was supposed to be longer but it’s 4:30 in the morning and i’m done #like my brain is fried and i cant do this anymore 😭 #the ending was rushed asl but yk other than that i didn’t hate this

[proxima-writes]

Dbf Joel and younger reader sneaking off in his truck to make out !!

I may have done a bit more than making out, but I hope you enjoy!

title: moments we stole

pairing: dad's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1544

summary:

It''s your dad's 40th birthday party and you can't help yourself from flirting with his best friend, Joel Miller.

author's note: if you've sent in a request, thank you!! i love you!! the biggest smooches for you!! i promise i'm working on them. hope you enjoy!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, age difference (22F and 36M), pre-outbreak, teasing, flirting, established relationship, sneaking around, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, vaginal fingering, making out, semi-public sex. let me know if any are missing!

It’s your dad’s 40th birthday party. Your house is packed with all your dad’s friends from the architectural firm he works at, including a slew of brawny construction workers and contractors that mingle among the more clean cut architects and engineers. There’s one man in particular that keeps drawing your eye.

Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller. 

He’s a contractor your dad has worked with on a number of projects over the years. He’s younger than your dad at thirty-six years old, tall and broad with gorgeous brown eyes and dark curly hair. The first time you saw him at one of your parent’s parties, you could swear it was love at first sight for your little sixteen year old brain.

You're twenty-two now as you mingle with your dad’s guests, a beer bottle sweating in your hand as you nod along to the story your dad’s colleague is telling you. Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention as Joel walks by.

“Excuse me for a sec, Richard. It was nice talking to you,” you say to the man you’d been speaking with. You follow after Joel, broad shoulders easy to track in the crowd.

He stops to talk to your dad and you slip beside him, your bare arm brushing his flannel covered one. Your dad smiles at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, sweetie, you remember Joel, right?” He asks, gesturing to him. You grin at Joel.

“Of course I do, dad. He’s been at all your parties since I was sixteen. I haven’t been away that long,” you reply with a good natured roll of your eyes. “Hiya, Mr. Miller.”

The man chokes on his sip of beer, clearing his throat. “How’ve you been? You graduated in May, right?”

“Yeah, but you already knew that,” you giggle. His eyes go the tiniest bit wide. “It’s been good. Happy to be back home.”

“I bet. You went pretty far for school.” 

“Still made it back for all dad’s parties and holidays, though. So, hopefully you didn’t miss me too much.”

You can see his jaw clenching. Your dad continues to smile at the two of you, blissfully unaware of the blatant flirting you’re throwing at his friend.

The thing is, you do know Joel. Intimately.

It started when you were nineteen. You came home for winter break but your parents had re-keyed your childhood home with some fancy biometric locks that you weren’t set up to use yet, nor did you have the physical key to bypass it.

But Mr. Miller had a copy of the key. Your dad gave you the man’s address and when you showed up, Joel had groaned and ran a hand through his messy curls.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I tried to tell your dad that I gave him that key back. But you’re welcome to come inside and wait until one of ‘em gets home from work?”

And that’s what you did. Waiting with Joel Miller turned into watching movies with Joel Miller, which turned into kissing Joel Miller, which turned into laying beneath Joel Miller and moaning his name as he pounded into you.

You saw him a couple more times during that first break, each time more explosive than the last. You went back to school with a sore pussy and a new number saved in your phone that you would call late at night, tucked under your covers in your dorm.

The secret hook ups and phone calls continued and every time you flew home to visit your parents, you’d slip into bed with Joel. Somewhere between nights on the phone and nights in his bed, you’d fallen in love. A fact that you accidentally let slip during a call, when you had to get going and you absentmindedly told the man, “Bye, love you!”

You remember freaking out about that for hours. But when he called you that evening, everything seemed perfectly fine. As you were saying goodbye, he asked, “Aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’, baby?”

That’s how you found out Joel Miller loved you, too.

“We’re very proud of her. Graduated with honors,” your dad chimes in.

“Yeah. Cum laude,” you say, emphasizing your mispronunciation of the phrase. Joel looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.

“I forgot somethin’ in the truck,” he mumbles. “Be back in a minute.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, a hitch in his step that makes you giggle. You continue to speak with your dad for a couple more minutes before you excuse yourself under the guise of getting another drink.

You grab two beers on your way out the front door, swinging them gently as you walk to the edge of your driveway and follow the sidewalk to where it ends near the woods that border your parent’s neighborhood.

A familiar black truck is tucked away in the tree line and you smile as you see Joel Miller standing there with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his handsome face. 

“You think you’re so fuckin’ funny,” he says as you draw near. He takes the beer bottles from your hands, setting them in the truck bed before tugging you close as you giggle.

“Absolutely hilarious,” you reply. His broad palm cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a kiss so heated it makes your toes curl. His other hand grips your ass through the fabric of your dress.

“Wearin’ this little thing was the worst tease of all,” he growls. He hoists you up onto the truck tailgate, stepping between your legs. The added height of the truck brings his hips flush with your aching core, the hard length of him brushing against your clit and making you whimper. “Mmm, not so smart now, huh?”

“Joel,” you whine. His lips descend on yours, moving in practiced tandem, spit slick and so warm even the chill night air can’t bother you. “We don’t have much time,” you say between his drugging kisses, your words a little slurred and not from the buzz of beer in your veins.

“Don’t rush me, princess,” Joel says as he trails kisses down your neck, across your clavicle, to your shoulder. His hand grips your breast, tugging the neckline of your dress down to expose one of your nipples. He runs a thumb across the hard nub before chasing the sensation with his lips and tongue and teeth. You squirm against him as he gives your other breast the same attention.

Joel slides a hand up your leg, starting with a light trace of his fingertips at your ankle and ending with a harsh grip to your inner thigh, his thumb reaching to rub your clit through your panties. You whine again, high and needy, as he draws back to watch your face while he circles your clit. 

“So goddamn beautiful,” he says. His fingers shove aside your underwear, sliding through your slick folds. “Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Teasin’ me work you up that much?”

His groan echoes yours as he slips two fingers inside of you, curling them harshly as he pulls back before repeating the actions again and again, winding you so tight but backing off just as you’re about to explode that you want to cry in frustration.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?” Joel teases. You pout and he chuckles, adding a swirl of his thumb on your clit to each thrust inside your cunt. “Don’t pout, you know I can’t say no to you when you look at me with those sweet little eyes.”

“I wanna come so bad, Joel, please,” you beg, rocking against his hand. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, concentrating his efforts on your clit with incredible precision. You bite into his shoulder as you shatter, stifling your moan into that goddamn flannel that makes his biceps look so good. “That’s it, good girl, fuck you look good comin’ on my fingers. Can’t wait to get you in bed later.”

Joel slows his hand before withdrawing, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean while you try to catch your breath. When he deems them clean he digs his fingers into your hair, tugging your head back to grace you with a filthy kiss that tastes like you and the beer he’d been drinking earlier. 

“I love you,” he says as he pulls away, lips tilted in a completely besotted smile that makes your heart beat triple time. It makes you so glad to be home, where your stolen moments are slowly turning into something more real, more permanent. 

“I love you, too.”

________ 

You drink your beers on the way back to the house, slipping back into the party just as your mom announces it’s time to cut the cake. You stand shoulder to shoulder with Joel as everyone sings an off key rendition of Happy Birthday to your dad, the older man smiling brightly at everyone.

He helps your mom pass out plates of dessert. When he reaches you and Joel he asks, “Did you get what you needed from your truck?”

Joel chokes on his bite of cake and you pat his back as he coughs. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah. I definitely did.”

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-catals-cat @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the master list

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fluff #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #age difference #joel miller fic request #ask request

[celestoria]

Genshin Impact (Taylor’s Version)

Tags: SFW with semi-angst Characters: Scaramouche, Zhongli, Kaeya, Lyney

Scaramouche (The Way I Loved You)

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain // it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name // So in love that I acted insane // And that's the way I loved you // Breaking down and coming undone // It's a roller coaster kind of rush // And I never knew I could feel that much // And that's the way I loved you.

Loving you was so frustrating…yet so addicting.

Scaramouche had a complicated way of showing his feelings towards other people and always rubbed them the wrong way. However, you didn’t give up.

You noticed how the same lips that mumbled disdainful complaints were the same ones that would kiss you so passionately under the pale moonlight. His hands that would brutally throw a fight when needed are the same ones that would hold you delicately as he leads you to a secret spot only the two of you know.

Sure, there are times when you wouldn’t meet eye to eye, but in the end, no word would mean as much to him compared to the first time you told him you'll never leave him. Scaramouche felt so alive since he fell in love with you and he would never trade it for the world.

Zhongli (Wildest Dreams)

Say you'll remember me // Standing in a nice dress // Staring at the sunset, babe // Red lips and rosy cheeks // Say you'll see me again // Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha // Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Times of old may be memories of the past but those moments shall never be forgotten.

How long has it been since he last saw you? A month? A decade? Centuries? It all feels the same when you’ve lived for 5000 years.

Still, he can’t bear to forget every bit of you, even if it pains him to reminisce about the days you called him yours. He loved how your hair flowed with the wind the first day you met each other during a busy day at the harbor, the distinct scent of your favorite perfume that could easily make his head turn, and even that beautiful shade of red that often smudged on the side of his neck whenever you were going out.

Sometimes your ghost haunts him in his dreams, but alas it was just a figment of his imagination playing what could have been if life was a little bit kinder to the both of you. But if everything is just one Samsara cycle playing over and over again, he promises to love every one of them until Teyvat and Celestia itself ceases.

Kaeya (Cruel Summer)

I'm drunk in the back of the car // And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) // Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true // I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you // And I snuck in through the garden gate // Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) // And I screamed for whatever it's worth // "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Everyone has their fair share of secrets, and Kaeya was no exception.

But he kept them buried where no one would find them. Like the last time he opened up about his deepest, darkest secret to someone he trusted, Kaeya fears you’ll push him away once he finally comes undone in front of you.

However, it was such a pain to keep things like that. Always yearning for you but never having you. Brave is the kindest word you can call a fool, so call him the most foolish man on earth when he poured his heart confessing to you how much his heart aches for you like it's his guilty pleasure.

He was ready for rejection to kick him in the guts like a horse, but instead, he was meat with your flushed cheeks and warm smile. To him, he felt like he was confessing shame, but to you, it was the few words you always wanted him to say.

The weight of pining finally fell off his shoulders, freed with the knowledge you always felt the same way for him. Kaeya’s thankful that even though luck often refused to be on his side, it gave him this small chance to find something sweet to make everything seem a little less cruel.

Lyney (Today was a Fairytale)

But can you feel this magic in the air? // It must have been the way you kissed me // Fell in love when I saw you standing there // It must have been the way // Today was a fairytale

To him, loving you felt like a romance novel, always making his heart flutter like the wings of doves flying out of his hat. It must have been love at first sight, the way your enthusiastic, wide-eyed smile became enthralled with his street performances as you stood amongst the crowd.

How lucky he is that fate allowed him to have someone always by his side. Though he was the magician between the two of you, you were always the one taking his breath with whatever you had to offer.

You seem to know how to make his gloomy days a little bright with a bright smile, how to make the simplest gifts feel like the grandest gestures with him, and how to make real life feel like a fairytale that he thought would only be possible in children’s books. The sun always seems to be burning on his cheeks whenever you try to kiss him.

Even though he knows every magic trick there is, how in the world he managed to pull such a beautiful person like you will always remain a mystery to him. That must be destiny’s own little magic, he guessed — always finding a way to let two people tied with a red string of faith find each other in a chaotic mess of a world.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #zhongli #scaramouche #wanderer #kaeya #lyney #zhongli x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kaeya x reader #lyney x reader #scaramouche fluff #zhongli fluff #kaeya fluff #lyney fluff #scaramouche x you #zhongli x you #kaeya x you #lyney x you #taylors version #taylor swift #wanderer fluff #wanderer x you #celeste writes

[f10werfae]

My Wife, My Love

pairing: Construction!BF!Chris x GF!Reader

Summary: with y/n taking a new job across town, her hunk of a man pays her a steamy visit, and big decisions are made

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

can be read as part of build up

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 8 years younger and is in early 20s), dirty talk, spit, breast play, penetration, breeding kink, slight humiliation, squirting, oral

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist💫

Full Masterlist✨

Taglist Form⭐️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

Ever since I had met Chris all those months ago, we had honestly been texting non stop even though I had started a new job as a chef a whole town away. I was missing his cute handsome face, and the way he just loved on me.

After throwing out the rest of food I couldn’t bare to finish, I just sat staring at the dull ass grey walls of my apartment, the atmosphere itself just draining. Sure there were a few family pictures laying about the place and mementos, but nothing ever beats being back home where everything you know is.

With the occasional sext and visit from Chris I was able to get by, although he did say I was not to touch what was his and I was not going to go against that

Even though my pa strongly disapproved of us, mostly due to the age gap, I did not let that waver my decision of seeing Chris. I'm in love with this man.

*Knock Knock*

Letting out a massive sigh I opened the door to see a massive bouquet of flowers being pushed to my face, before I saw a head poke out from the side.

"CHRIS?!" I squealed grabbing the flowers and setting them on the table by the door, jumping straight into his arms, a deep chuckle reverberating through his chest as he brought us inside.

“Well don’t ya look all pretty? Don’t suppose you were dressin' up for someone else were ya sugar?” He teased setting me on one of my bar stools in the kitchen, his hands not letting go of my waist.

“Nuh uh, was jus' thinkin bout you” I replied bitting my lip smirking back at him, his beard had grown and so had his hair, giving him a more matured sexy look.

“Oh yeah? what was you thinkin’ about?”

He inquired leaning in closer to me, his hands situating themselves onto my thighs to rub onto them softly. “Just thinkin thoughts” I said dismissively kicking my legs back and forth.

“Alright alright I won’t push ya, but I got somethin for ya” He laughed taking off his backpack, that’s when my eyes were glued to what he was wearing. A white tight polo shirt that accentuated his body, along with a pair of black trackies, how was this my man?

“This is for you when i’m not around” He said pulling out a brown teddy bear, dressed in construction work, it even had the name tag Chris on it.

“Aw Chris” I pouted taking the furry thing into my arms and hugging it dearly, hell he even sprayed it with his citrus cologne.

“You’re so sweet” I cooed looking up at the older man who I now had wrapped around my finger. Setting the teddy onto the counter behind me, I brought my hand up to behind his neck and pulled him down for his lips to meet mine.

My soft pink ones being pressed against his, it wasn’t long before I felt his tongue probing at my lips to open them, which he did. His teeth clashing against mine as his tongue ravaged my mouth, both of our lips now shiny with saliva as he pulled away smirking.

“God did I miss my sweet girl” His whispered, his thumb brushing under my bottom lip before he stood up fully.

“Where’d you get this flimsy thing then?” He suddenly asked pulling at the bow of my sundress, with it now being spring I had spent a lot of my pay on new dresses, this one being my new favourite.

“I-I bought it at the mall”

“It’s beautiful honey, ya look like my wife already” He smirked playing around with the tied ribbon at the front of it, his teeth holding onto his bottom lip as he stood back to look at me full view.

“A-are you hungry baby? I have some pasta from this morning in the microwave, I did have some pancakes but I threw them out”

“I’ll take anythin my girl makes” He said sliding onto the bar stool after I got off, his eyes trained on me while I moved around the kitchen flawlessly, my hair now tied into a high ponytail. “Gah I can’t wait to come home from work n’ jus see you waitin for me at home like this. All pretty and domestic” He swooned, his head resting on the palm of his hand.

“Yeah well you gotta ask me first” I joked taking the pasta out of the microwave and setting it in front of him, taking the seat beside him.

“Baby this is so good” He groaned as I fed him his first bite, a proud smile coming onto my face knowing my man enjoyed what I was eating.

“You gon cook for our babies like this? They’re so lucky”

“Stop it Chris you’re makin' me all flustered” I groaned gathering some more macaroni onto my fork,

“What? Am I lyin? We both know we’re gettin married and havin kids” He shrugged knowingly, a smirk evident on his face while his hand rested on my knee.

-

With the pasta now finished, Chris had taken it upon himself to grab my hand and walk us into my bedroom, luckily it could even fit a double bed. Kicking his socks off, he layed down with an arm folded behind his head, the other patting his chest as an invitation for me to lay down.

“C'mere I missed ya?” He whispered nuzzling into my hair once I got down beside him, his arms now surrounding my waist.

Using his nose he nudged me head up and caught my lips between his, if there was anything Chris loved, it was kissing, doesn’t matter how filthy it gets.

“Stick your fuckin’ tongue out baby” He growled into my mouth, taking my tongue and sucking it between his plump lips. Mewls leaving my mouth the harder he went, letting go he leant back and spat straight onto my tongue, his mouth clamping right back onto mine to delve deeper.

“Gah your mouth is so fuckin' pretty baby, is this all for me? My mouth to use?”

“Mhm all yours” I moaned feeling him flip up the skirt part of my dress and shove his hands down my underwear. His fingers wasting no time,

“Spit” He demanded holding his fingers out in front of me, smirking when I did so and using it to lube up my own clit.

“Aww did you miss this beautiful? Your pussy is soaked, awk look your panties are soiled” He said in a degrading voice, now holding up my stained underwear between his fingers before throwing it off to wherever.

“Please baby” I breathed out, feeling his fingers slide back and forth between my pussy lips.

“Please what hunny? Ya know I need words”

“I need your mouth”

In seconds he had moved downwards, his hot breath fanning me,

“Wan' you to look me in the eyes while I kiss your pretty pussy alright? Wanna look at your pretty eyes while I make you come” He said taking both of my hands and intertwining them with his, his eyes staring deeply into my soul. His lips first placed a kiss onto my lips, his tongue teasing the slit between them with his spit.

“Ya like how I kiss your pussy like I do your mouth?”

“Mhm” I moaned out watching more and more of his face disappear, his mouth now sucking gently on my clit, my hands squeezing his letting him know just how good he was making me feel. A knot started to build up in my stomach, I knew this feeling before, it happened last time we met up

“Chris I-I think i’m gonna sq-“ Chris groaned like an animal, the sound of him slurping up my juices only made me even more horny when he came up and kissed me. Letting me taste myself onto his tongue, I felt my eyes roll back when he started humping his hardened cock into my sensitive clit.

His trackies now pulled down to his ankles as he rutted against me, his face in between my tits as he kissed and licked them as if his life depended on it.

“Baby i’m gonna wife the fuck outta you, gon have you everyday all day when the time comes, your pussys just gonna be throbbin constantly for me”

He groaned, the tip of his cock now slipping in between my folds and into my wet hole, it’s almost as if we were made for each other.

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Fahk Y/n, jus wanna be in you all day” I moaned sinking into her, bottoming out so my balls rested on her ass. Her face dazed out, with her eyes half lidded looking at me with so much love, this girl really had my heart in her hands.

I always thought I’d end up alone in life in the end, everyone else around me had gotten married n whatnot, but here I am fucking the love of my life senselessly.

Thrusting up into her once, a small whimper came out of her pouty lips, her hands grabbing on tightly to my biceps. A smirk forming onto my face as her eyes rolled back the faster I went on.

“You’re so beautiful baby, you’re my wife aren’t ya? Jus made for me and for me alone” I taunted, one of my hands ripping the front of her dress to reveal her braless breasts, the sight of them bouncing in rhythm only made me harder. Her nipples only getting bigger the harder they got, bless they were basically asked to me sucked on and who was I to defy them of that.

Bending my neck down I took one nipple in my mouth sucking relentlessly,

“Fuck Chris, you know how sensitive my tits are”

“I know baby, but i’m here to take care of you remember?” I said licking all over her breasts, my spit gathering on her sternum which slowly dribbled down to add onto her wet pussy. Releasing her tit with a loud pop, I felt her clench around my cock tightly, she was about to cum and I could feel it. The thought of filling her up only made this even more hotter, my cock starting to build up.

“I wanna kiss you while I cum baby, please I want a kiss” She moaned out hazily, her tongue just sticking out helplessly, her drool spilling onto her chin making me smirk at her expression. Taking her tongue into my mouth, I felt her moan into it, instead of thrusting faster I chose to go deeper and slower hitting her spot over and over again.

I opened my eyes to see her brows furrowed in ecstasy, feeling her suck and bite on the tip of my tongue cutely almost as if she couldn’t take the size of it either.

(Y/n's P.O.V)

With his tongue between my lips, I was pushed over the edge when his thumb started toying with my clit, my body arching back into the bed as I came, Chris kissing all over my tits and stomach. His thrusting continuing to slap into my hips as he chased his own high, my pussy now throbbing from him.

“Please cum Chris, wanna feel all warm n full of you baby” I moaned taking his face between my hands and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, my hands going around his shoulders to hide myself in his neck.

“Oh baby I’ll do whatever ya want, even give you a baby if that’s what it takes. Gonna show everyone that you’re walkin' around full of my cum”

He whispered gritting his teeth, his cock twitching inside of me before I felt him spurt his warm cum deep inside me. A deep chuckle leaving him as he sat up and grabbed his phone from the floor, taking a picture of his cum leaking out of my abused raw pussy.

A raw blush on my face as he showed me the picture with pride, throwing the phone once again to the side.

“Ya alright gorgeous, didn’t go too hard did I?”

He asked, his eyes now looking at me tenderly, coming up to lay beside me. Shaking my head I leaned over and rested my head onto his chest, his arm resting over me as it softly tickled my back.

How could I survive another minute without him here? In another few days he’d have to go back home and i’d be here all alone again, glooming about the place because despite being here for ages, there was not one friendly soul in this place. Sure the pay is amazing, but what about my dreams of starting my own bakery? Was I really about to give all that up? What about Chris? I really really love him and I don’t wanna stay away from him, and I don’t think I can

“What ya thinkin' about babe” Chris' hands ran over my furrowed brows, a concerned look on his face as he kissed my forehead comfortingly.

“I-I wanna come back home Chris. I hate it here, i’m so lonely and it doesn’t feel right at all. I miss you, ma and pa, Dodger and everything else” I whined nuzzling further into his chest, if that was even possible.

“If that’s what you really want baby, who am I to object to that and I certainly won’t object to havin ya home alla time. Heck if it was alright with ya i’d move you straight in with me”

He laughed out,

“Really? You would do that?” I said shocked, wide eyed looking up at his baby blues,

“Of course hun, ya know i’ve been workin on my house for a while, there’s enough space for kids n' everythin else you could possibly need and want. N’ I know your pa probably won’t agree cus we ain’t married, but trust give me a few months and there’ll be a rock right here”

He whispered holding onto my ring finger, a gushy smile creeping it’s way onto my lips before I leant up and pressed a small sensual peck onto his lips.

“I’d love to move in with you Chris, if you’ll have me?”

“If i’ll have ya? Baby you’re already with me”

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @itsaylayay1213 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @thereisa8ella @madebylilly @seren-a-ity @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @tojisbabymommy @bxdbxtxh15

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

[the-possum-writes]

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

❥Character: Patrick O'Hara (Web Slinger)

❥Fandom: Spiderverse

❥Tags: NSFW, gen!neutral reader, unspecified g*nitalia, PWP, sweetheart as a pet name

❥Synopsis: Imagine being new to the spider society and after meeting Web Slinger you're immediately smitten and whisper to yourself. "Uff, I wouldn't mind riding that cowboy to save a horse." And next thing you know he's got you cornered and say. "I heard you like saving horses."

❥A/n: I would've liked to write relationship hcs first but I would need to investigate more, so enjoy this P/with plot. 🤠

Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined riding a spider horse beside a cowboy in a society of spider people, as if being bitten by a radioactive spider wasn't bizarre enough. The trip on his horse Widow is undoubtedly bumpy, but after talking with Web Slinger, he's been nothing but charismatic and charming, so when he offered you a ride, you were quick to accept, especially now that you're able to wrap your arms around this athletic build.

"First time riding a horse?" You tighten your grip on Web Slinger's strong midsection as his horse suddenly turns sharply to race on the underside of a staircase. If you played your cards well, your hands might "accidentally" slide a few times simply to run them over his abdomen.

"No, but in my world, horses don't exactly gallop across the ceilings." You cough and chuckle, trying not to look down as the blood rushes to your head from being upside down.

"It's just like any other horse. Though, you're going to have to grab on tighter for this part." even though his tone is stern, you get the impression he's smiling under his bandana as Widow dashed through plenty passageways. Web Slinger climbs off first and helps you down after noting how unsteady you are after the trip after a few dizzying jumps later Widow comes to a rest as you quickly reach at the location where you file for one of those multidimensional gadgets.

"How are you feeling, partner? Widow was just trying to show off; we don't typically provide joyrides." Widow neighs with a contented breath as Web Slinger apologizes.

"I'm fine; I just need a minute or two." Even though you feel as though the world is spinning, you can't really complain because you got to share body heat with this charming guy. Web Slinger may come off as stern and unwelcome at first, but he has been an absolute gentleman. He may make fun of you occasionally, but how can you be mad when it results in a hug?

"How about you take a breather while I fetch you some water, I won't take long!" and with that he pulls out one of his guns and web swings himself to the nearest vending machine.

Leaning against Widow, you take a moment to calm yourself down. You briefly close your eyes to gather your thoughts before Widow's mane hairs begin to tickle your nose. "Heh, you're really quite something, aren't ya girl? You stroke beneath her head and hear her let out a breath, "You're lucky to be his partner, I know I'd love to spend more time with him. Between you and me, I'd definitely ride that cowboy to save a horse," you chuckle softly to yourself, realizing how ridiculous you must look chatting raunchy topics with a horse. Web Slinger returns with a bottle of water, which he throws to you as you catch it with one hand, and you immediately stop talking.

He inquires, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Definitely, after talking to your buddy here, it helped." You lightly pat Widow's side.

"Oh? Is that true? Web Slinger briefly held Widow's head in his hands as if speaking to her, and from the sound of his voice and the way his eye mask moved, it appears like he is interested in what is being said. Which you hoped wasn't a thing.

You make a joke, "Yeah... she's very talkative."

He played along, saying, "Huh, good things about me I hope."

You didn't like the way his voice changed since it seemed like he was on to you, but you had no way of knowing, so you instantly changed the subject. "Anyway! I should get moving so Miguel doesn't come up and chastise me for not wearing a bracelet, hah! By the way, thanks a lot."

"No problem, you know how to reach me if you need help with anything else." As Widow begins a quick gallop, Web Slinger taps his bracelet and tilts his hat to say goodbye before you turn around and go your own ways. However, the manner he is holding the reins behind you causes him to stop moving, and Widow stopped moving when she felt what her rider was thinking.

You anticipated that it would be some time before you saw Web Slinger again, but to your surprise, he came looking for you right after you received your new, sparkly bracelet. In fact, you were tinkering with it when he arrived. He approached you from behind, coming up to you on foot, saying, "Looking quite fancy."

"Thanks Spider "Byte said it should help with the glitching and traveling," you say as you turn around to face him. "Speaking of which, where's that partner of yours?" you ask, referring to the horse.

"Widow is at the cafeteria, she loves the empanadas there, in fact you should try them sometime." Web Slinger mentions with a small laugh before pausing briefly. "But also, she wanted to give me some privacy so we could talk."

"And what do you wanna talk about that not even your horse isn't here? You two seem inseparable." you ask of him, but while you kept questioning it inside your head you didn't notice how there was less and less people around you two.

"Well you're right on that, you see, we were both bitten by the same spider so we have this mental link I call Rider sense," while the man gave his explanation you two turn the corner in a secluded hallway. "And let's just say a little spider told me you have a thing for 'saving horses~" he purposely blocked your left side with a single arm, leaning closer for dramatic effect. Back in your universe you recognize it as a kabedon.

The realization became apparent in your expression, even if you were wearing a mask or not. But there's advantages to being cornered, especially for a spider. "What can I say? I'm quite the animal activist." you lower your voice a bit, drawing him close enough to walk you fingers up his chest.

___

Riding a cowboy can't compare to riding a horse, but they sure are similar enough. The wooden headboard cracks under the pressure of your grip as you hold onto dear life, you're lucky Web Slinger took you to a secluded cabin in his universe cause it's imposible to contain the unholy noises coming from you when bouncying on the mighty steed that is Patrick O'Hara's cock.

"Slingeeer...! Fuck..." you lower your hands to his bare chest, your fingertip twitching on the few hairs scattered over his pectorals.

"Patrick, the names Patrick." he tells you with a strangled grunt. Web Slinger's is currently laying on his back as you ride him senseless, even if that spider bite gave you inhuman strength this man still has your legs cramping as you keep up with his own speed, he helps you by firmly holding your hips with his bare hands like the leather straps on Widow's harness but instead it's to keep you steady as the friction between your joined sexes becomes slippery and heated. Normally you'd hold on for longer but there's something about the angle of his raw cock inside you, the smell of sweat and the insinuating creaking of the bed that has you coming close all over this cowboy.

"God, you're so tight-" Web Slinger struggles to regulate his rhythm as he reaches his end as you milk his needy cock. He immediately sits up to wrap his tan arms around you, ramming inside you desperately as he chases his own high.

"...Patrick... PATRICK!" the edge of your climax catches up to you and doesn't let you string out anything that isn't helpless whining.

You didn't think his voice could get any hotter due to that old timey accent but you're proven wrong when he comes inside you with an array of deep growls and breathy sighs, hearing your name in between a few whispers. "That's it, so good for me, fuck, FUCK." even though he stayed still for a while Patrick still held a nice hold on you, bringing you down with him as he collapses back into the worn out mattress and tangled sheets.

"So... what you think sweetheart?" Patrick asks , propping himself on an elbow as he gives you a lazy smile.

"Wow, just wow." you exasperate. "I mean.. It's been a while since I had this much fun during a joyride." you attempt to comb your sweaty hair only to find Patrick's hat on your head, tossing it away with a laugh as you forgot you were wearing that thing.

"Expect nothing less with me sweetheart," he traces his fingertips over the side of your body, enjoying the afterglow.

#Patrick O'Hara x reader #patrick o'hara #Spiderverse #web slinger #spiderman beyond the spiderverse #webslinger x reader

[letterlitter]

"Angel"

Lestappen

•Charles helps Max heal wounds

•tags: hurt comfort, fluff, kisses, Max has anger issues, Jos Verstappen the ultimate villain, Aussie gp

•tw: cuts, blood, breaking things.

•wordcount: 1.2k

Max DNFing in Australia obviously wasn't his fault, but his father didn't think so. Max's raging shouts at his phone was scaring Charles. He was fine in the paddock after the race had finished but when Charles saw his dad's name on his phone screen now that they were in their hotel room, he knew a storm was coming. Charles didn't think it would be this bad. An argument about a simple engineering mistake had ricocheted into how Max is ignorant and should pay attention to how he makes his life choices.

Max's pale skin had turned red with anger and his voice kept breaking from the shouts. Charles didn't know what to do. He decided to wait until it was over. What was he going to do? Go to him, rip his phone off of his hands and curse at his father whom didn't even know they were in a relationship? Charles may have called himself stupid several times, but he wasn't that stupid.

He heard glass breaking and almost ran to the room, but his angry boyfriend's voice stopped him,

"...and if you're so sad about how I turned out you can go take a good hard look at the mirror."

Charles heard Max throw his phone to the ground in the other room. He decided to wait a couple more minutes before he could go to him to let him collect himself and calm down.

****

Charles's "Maxy love?" mixed with the sound of the door creaking open. There Max was, sitting on their bed with his back to the door, squeezing his forehead with his palms. Blood was running down one of his wrists and had stained his tear covered cheek.

Charles moved towards him through the shards of glass and what was left of his phone, trying not to cut himself on them and kneeled infront of his quietly sobbing boyfriend, approaching him very slowly,

"Hey baby, hey." Charles's cautious hand moved to Max's thigh. He knew he had to be gentle with him and take it slow. He had learned after this long that angry Max could say or do things he didn't mean and he just needed time and someone to trust.

Max's tiny sniff made Charles's heart ache. He didn't deserve this.

"It's all good now, it's over love." He calmly traced the line of blood on Max's hand, careful not to touch a wound. "Show me where you're bleeding baby, let me help."

Max's body was stiff, on edge. Charles kept moving his hand up, stroking Max's forearm, letting him ease into his touch. "Let me see that hand darling. May I?"

Max sniffed again and showed his cut palm to his concerned boyfriend's face with a tiny "I'm sorry-" that was cut off by Charles.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. Just an accident."

Charles examined his open wound, deep down worried but kept calm on the surface not to scare Max. It was a deep cut, Max's red running blood was hiding where the actual source was.

"It's nothing. I'll go get something to clean this okay? Wait here."

Charles tried running to the bathroom in a speed that wouldn't alarm Max.

He was sitting in the same exact position when Charles came back with towels and a first aid kit. At least he wasn't crying anymore.

"To stop the bleeding," Charles sat next to Max on the bed, the first aid kit between them, "you have to apply pressure. As far as I know."

He took Max's hand to turn his palm up, and put the towel on it, turning the white of the towel an immediate red, "squeeze."

Max listened with no hesitation and no words. Looking down like he was ashamed of what he had done, all the while trying to hide his face from Charles. He knew anger wasn't a good look on him.

Charles took out the bandaids and gause in silence.

"Okay while we are waiting for that to stop I'll ask you you favorite question." Charles kept testing the waters, seeing if joking was the correct move to help Max get better, "Want to talk about it?"

A faded smile showed up on Max's face, but he nodded "no". Still not looking up.

Charles was now cleaning the half dried blood off of his arm, cursing his dad in his head.

"You know you can always talk to me about it. I won't judge." And he reached for Max's face to wipe the blood on his cheek; keeping the warm damp towel a little longer on his face to help him feel better.

After Max's skin was clean, Charles continued to remove the towel so that he could bandage the wound. It was right in the middle of Max's palm, showing the glass had been broken while he was holding it. Charles had to check for glass shards. Luckily there were none.

Max squinted at the pain and pulled his hand back, "I got it." He spoke for the first time in a long while.

Charles wasn't going to let his boyrfriend's shaky hands patch themselves up. He pulled Max's hand to himself once more, holding it in an assuring grip, and continued to do what he was.

"It's not a bad thing to let your feelings out. Piling them up can make you feel really heavy." Charles whispered in a confident tone, "and heavier the weight, slower we will move forward."

Max didn't reply. He didn't know what to say.

"That's it now." Charles said as he tied the last knot on the bandaid. Seeing Max quiet and pouty wasn't a sight he'd see often, and he didn't like it. He wanted to make him feel better and smile at him again.

Charles lifted his hand to Max's chin, raising it so that he would look him back in the eyes, "you're gonna be just fine, baby. You will be just fine."

Max looked into Charles's eyes. The green mesmerized him. His voice made him calm. His smile comforted him. It was everything he needed. He didn't need his dad voicing worthless opinions about his life. He didn't have to handle all this extra stress.

Max felt braver, less guilty. He got closer to Charles, the first aid kit was still laying open between them. Max didn't care. He proceeded to move forward. Careful not to hurt his wounded hand, he lead Charles toward the headboard. Charles let him get on top of him. No words were being exchanged, only movements.

Max moved until Charles was fully laying down under him. He then got closer, kissing him gently. Charles's lips arched into a smile, his eyes wrinkling with joy. Max kissed him more, "Angel." He whispered, pressing his forehead to the man who loved him when he didn't love himself. The man who took care of him when he was disconnected. The man who had stayed.

Charles lifted his face to reach Max's lips. The kiss echoed the room.

"Angel." Max kissed Charles again, and again, and again.

This was all he wanted, all he needed.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #australian gp 2024

[elvisabutler]

patience

fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x implied older female reader word count: 1384 warnings: heavy use of ma'am and baby boy. sub austin. needy austin. dom reader. public play. minor bit of come eating. future implied oral ( female receiving ). handjob. implications of threesomes. author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public with austin butler x older female reader. fun fact! i forgot i had put someone down for this until i went through the tag one day. but i'm a woman of my word promise even for you wil anon, so here we go with the third public play fic. hypothetically y'all will get fed tomorrow too, we'll see. my schedule officially is just me throwing darts at a board and hoping for the best. also truly everyone who comments or reblogs is helping me keep on writing and i love every one of them and cherish them all.

"Ma'am," you hear Austin's whisper against your ear unexpectedly while talking with one of his co-stars. You may not be famous like Austin is— indeed, you are one of a million names attached to producing various films— but you still need to network. You still need to rub shoulders with the stars in the hope that you can drag them into whatever film you have going on. Austin is fine with it, enjoying how you get along with almost everyone and enjoying how you pick some of his favorite co-stars to zero in on. Still, to hear Austin whispering and sounding wound up like the tightest string on his guitar is cause for concern especially when he repeats himself. "Ma'am, please."

Never in your life have you been more thankful that you know how to school your face into something resembling normal and calm. You smile at his co-star as your hand reaches back to grab Austin's- noting how he grasps it with a ferocity you rarely see in public. "I'm so sorry to cut this short but I think Austin here's wanting my attention. I'll call you?"



"Of course," the woman croons before looking at Austin. "I don't blame you for wanting to whisk her away. I would too."



Austin's grip tightens once more as he kisses your neck and smiles. "She's a wanted woman."



You all share a quiet laugh before she moves away from the two of you and you finally turn around to face Austin, your free hand instinctively going up to cup his face, ignoring how he's shifted both of you just so that your thigh is pressed up against him. "What's wrong? You never say ma'am like this."



A low, barely there whine leaves Austin's throat before he answers, his body moving against your thigh, chasing something. "I— Everyone's been around you and around me and there was— I just need you."



As if to belabor the point, he rocks his body up against yours again and it's then that you feel it. He needs you not just as a person but as someone who he allows to hold the reins to his pleasure. Your eyebrows raise up just a hair as you run your thumb against his lip. His tongue darts out to lick it before nipping at it, earning a shaky breath from you. The two of you are in public, at a function that's important for both of you but from Austin's blown eyes and hard cock, you can tell that at least for now you need to try and handle him.



"We're in public, baby boy," your voice is practically a croon, even as you try and force both of you to a secluded area. The people who know you and Austin— who want to protect you and Austin keep most everyone occupied and looking away from you. You make Austin happy and he makes you happy to have that jeopardized by people who wouldn't understand the two of you isn't something anyone wants.



After what feels like an eternity, you finally make your way out of the room and into another one that is blissfully empty. Austin looks around, trying to see if he can see anyone in the darkness before you laugh. "Baby boy, there's no one here."



A groan of relief leaves his lips as he licks them and pulls you in for a kiss. You'll take care of him now, allow him to enjoy himself and have the edge taken off. You'll remind him that as much as he belongs to you, you belong to him and not the people who fawn over you.



"Everyone— Everyone kept touching you, ma'am. They kept touching what's mine and you couldn't stop them." Austin mutters against the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking small hickies. "Didn't want—"



Before you can even stop yourself your hand goes to Austin's hair, winding in it and pulling lightly. Normally he'd take that as a sign to move his head back and yet tonight he doesn't, too preoccupied with trying to touch you as if that will wash away everyone else's touch. Your chest heaves ever so slightly as Austin ruts against your thigh. You're in control but he needs to listen better right now. The hand in his hair yanks a little harder and finally he pulls away, eyes completely blown and lips turning redder and plumper by the second. "Ma'am?"



"Look at my baby boy, so needy for me. So impatient," you murmur, shifting your stance so that your thigh rubs up against him again. "So jealous of everyone else. Baby boy, you know I only love you. I only want to see that pretty face of yours coming because I helped you."



The whine that leaves Austin tells you all you need to know about how wound up he is. He had to have been aching for at least an hour to be this far gone. Perhaps it was when you were talking to Oscar that did him in, the knowledge that once upon a time you had joked about seeing if his wife would mind if the two of you borrowed him or if he could introduce the two of you to Jessica. Austin had finally let go of your hand and you use it to your full advantage, moving to unbutton his slacks and sticking your hand inside of his boxer briefs. He cries out softly at the feel of your hand around his cock, the brush of your thumb having him rut forward once again. "Ma'am. Ma'am, please, can't— don't tease. Help me, please."



"Aw, Austin, my baby boy. Of course. I've got you." Your hand shouldn't glide so easily but it does, moving up and down against his cock with an ease that tells you it's drenched in precum. Your clit throbs but you pay it no mind, too focus on the way Austin's panting and grabbing at your hips. His red lips are wet with spit and his chest heaves with every stroke of your hand. Austin needs you to the point of not caring who could walk in on you. "You just gotta be quiet, baby boy."



"Don't— don't care. Want them to see me like this, see that you only help me like this. Not anyone else." Faintly, you both register how bratty Austin sounds but only you file it away for later when you can properly punish and tease him at home. Your grip on his cock tightens though and he hisses through suddenly gritted teeth. "Gonna— need to come, ma'am. Need— it hurts."



Every muscle in Austin's body is tight, from his toes to his calves and thighs against you. His torso underneath your hand clenched in anticipation and you know he's trying to hold off, trying to be a good boy for you and it fills you with such pride that you can't help but pull him into a soft kiss. He sighs into it, trying to relax only to have you say the magic words when you pull away from his lips. "Come for me, Austin. Be a good boy."



It's as if he had been a puppet attached to strings that were cut when he comes, the intensity causing him to pitch forward against you, pinning you fully to the wall. Your hand is covered in his come and yet you don't bother to move it, instead focusing on using your free hand to rub his back as he breathes deeply.



After what feels like an eternity he moves to stand up properly and pulls your hand out of his pants. He keeps a handkerchief in his pocket specifically for cleaning up things like this and yet before he bothers to hand it to you, he licks a bit of his come off of your index finger, earning a growl from you. He cleans it up as normal after that, looking at you with a certain gleam in his eye. You start to open your mouth to question it before Austin sinks to his knees, moving to unbutton your own pants. He looks at you through his eyelashes,



"They won't miss us for another ten minutes."



It's another thirty before you head back to where you need to be.

tag list: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine, @stylespresleyhearted, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @thegettingbyp2, @austinswhitewolf, @richardslady121, @flwrs4aust and @mrs-butler am i missing people? who knows any more. i tried tho.

#austin butler #ally writes #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #ally's wet hot smut summer #sub austin butler

[thatfreshi]

"Tough Crowd" (Uni AU P. 1)

Really embracing the catty queerness of these fuckers LMAO. Anyways, here's our little intro to Ravenguard Univeristy and Tav's living situation :)

Tw - mention of alcohol

@justporo (If you want me to tag you in part two, leave a comment!)

It's finally move-in day. After getting your Associate's degree at some small-town community college, you finally transferred to Ravenguard University, probably through sheer luck. Perhaps someone dropped out of the waitlist, but you're here now, moving into the place that'll be your home for the upcoming semesters. Soon enough you're asked for your name, and given the key to your room, quickly being ushered to the elevators. The volunteering students are clearly stressed by all the newcomers, so you don't exactly blame them for seeming impersonal.

You read your key, which has deemed you to be in room 717. Sneaking your way over to the floor buttons, you lightly tap 7, and place yourself in one of the empty corners of the elevator. After dropping off a few strangers on lower floors, you finally get to your destination, and find your dorm room shortly after. When you unlock the door, you immediately hear arguing.

"I need the room with the desk! I have far too many exams to study for. Besides, you don't seem like the studying type anyways."

Two women are yelling at each other, one with jet-black hair and the other with piercing eyes and an intimidating demeanor.

"We're all here to study fool."

"Well, as far as I know, you don't want to be a doctor. Besides, aren't you just here as an athlete? Or, my bad, were here as an athlete?"

At this point the ginger is fuming, fists clenched, but simply takes the room they were arguing over and slams the door, locking it immediately. The med student slams her fist on the door.

"Just wait til I tell the RA about this Lae'zel!"

She sighs, clearly still trying to let go of her anger. When she turns from the closed door, she finally realizes you're standing there.

"Sorry about that. Roommate problems, am I right?"

The pale woman nervously chuckles. Dressed in all black, she looks ready for a funeral, well if funerals were comfy and full of college students.

"Uh, yeah. Please don't tell me you're going to be arguing like this every night."

"Well, her and I don't particularly get along. I'm surprised housing even let us be in the same room after how many issues we've had. Though I'm sure I'll learn to tolerate her better in our living situation."

The woman ponders the thought for a moment, and then her eyes light up.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Shadowheart, and yes my parents are hippies. Most people call me Shadow since it's less cringe."

"Well, nice to meet you. Please tell me there's a room I can snag that you aren't fighting about."

"Oh, go down the hall and to the right. That one has a bigger wardrobe, but Lae and I both really wanted the desk."

Your phone vibrates, with a notification from some online magazine.

'Szarr: The Seven Models Behind the Magic'

"Why has this man been doing so many interviews?"

Shadowheart's ears perk up.

"You know Szarr, that fashion guy right? He's been all over the news, I cannot escape it."

"Oh. You may want to be careful how you talk about him. One of his precious prodigies goes here. Kind of a bitch honestly."

She makes a fake throw-up noise, rolling her eyes.

"Wait. One of his models goes here? I assumed they were all full-time."

"He's full-time alright. I've never seen Astarion pause for anything other than himself. Anyways, I suppose I need to unpack my things IN THE ROOM WITHOUT A DESK."

Shadowheart yells the last part loud enough for Lae'zel to hear, which coerces a groan from her behind the locked door. And just like that, she's locked away in her own room, leaving you with the room at the end of the hall. At least it has the nice wardrobe? You put on some music and start to unpack all your bags, soaking in the space. It leaves some to be desired, but you're excited nonetheless. You're woken from the trance however when there's a very loud knock at your dorm door. You wait for a moment, hoping one of the other two will get it, but the knocking simply continues obnoxiously. Making your way to the front door with a scowl on your face, you throw it open.

"Floor meeting in thirty minutes. If you or any of your roommates are late, I'll kill you."

You're met with the topic of your previous conversation: Astarion. While you aren't necessarily into fashion, you've seen so much about this guy as of recent, mostly from people thirsting on Twitter. You almost laugh, knowing Shadowheart will be pissed when she hears that he's the RA for their floor. He doesn't wait for you to respond and simply walks down to the next room. After closing the door, you call for your new gossipy friend.

"Oh Shadow, I have wonderful news!"

She opens her door and leans in the frame.

"Please tell me I heard that voice wrong."

"Nope. I guess if you want to complain about Lae'zel, you'll have to see your favorite person!"

She lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. I guess I'll just deal with her. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

You knock on Lae'zel's door to tell her about the meeting, but you're simply met with a yell of 'I know!'

"Geez, tough crowd."

"She's the toughest crowd you'll meet. Don't ever try to impress her, you'll die trying."

Shadowheart gives you this slice of advice while putting her hair in a black claw clip.

The next thirty minutes pass by quickly as you decorate the walls of your room. Posters, little pieces of art, pictures of friends from home. When you leave the room to go to the floor meeting, you're met with the overlapping voices of everyone from floor seven, clearly annoyed that they have to be here. You and Shadowheart sit on a couch in the common area, and Lae'zel stands off to the side.

"Okay, I'm going to make this quick."

The room gets quiet quickly as Astarion speaks up, pushing his shades down his nose slightly so he can make intense eye contact with anyone who interrupts him.

"I'm your RA for the year. No, I will not answer your calls. If I'm sleeping, you better not wake me up. I do not care if you have an air fryer in your room, but if you burn down the university I will be pissed. To make it entirely clear, I'm only doing this to make a little extra cash, so do not expect me to be, how do you say... present."

The room is silent, both pleased that he doesn't seem to care and entirely annoyed by his attitude.

"Any questions?"

Once again, no one speaks.

"Great! If you truly need something, I would suggest you go to the RA on floor eight, my wonderful friend Gale, as he actually cares about the well-being of strangers. Good day!"

The large group mutters as they all make their way back to their rooms. Shadowheart turns to whisper to you.

"Oh Gale fucking hates him, and I guarantee you he didn't sign off on being the RA of two floors. Can't wait to see that catfight."

You laugh at her comment, not noticing the white-haired man approaching the two of you.

"Shadowheart."

"Astarion."

"Who's your new friend?"

She then realizes she never actually asked your name.

"Tav. It's Tav."

Astarion makes a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"Fascinating. Well Tav, how would you like to be my plus-one to a party tonight? I would ask our emo queen here, but I'm sure she has some sulking and studying to do already."

"And I thought you'd be selling out on another Instagram post, but I guess you just really love bothering people. Have fun though, if you even know how to do that."

And with that comment. Shadowheart is back off to her room, most likely to sulk and study like Astarion said.

"Ugh, don't mind her. She just doesn't understand the hustle. Anyways, Tav was it? You seem like just the kind of person I'd love to silently drink champagne with."

You're silent for a moment, unsure if he really is as bad as Shadowheart makes him out to be.

"The champagne is free by the way."

What better way to sell a broke college student on a night out?

"Alright, guess I'm in."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #au #shadowheart #lae'zel #astarion #gale of waterdeep #freshiau

[dancing-with-the-madmen]

The Massive Aggression of Calico Jack, redux

Several kind souls have complained brought it to my attention that my failure to use cut tags is, in fact, not optimal. I don't have any good reason that I don't use cuts - mostly I'm just throwing these thoughts out here so they don't endlessly rattle around my brain. Frankly, I'm endlessly astonished anyone but me can be arsed to bother wading through them at all. So, after a truly epic tantrum thoughtful consideration, I've decided to edit my longer posts to add cuts. If you've already read them, (may endless blessings rain down upon you) there's no new content (vile lies and calumny. I'm going to take this opportunity to fix errors and add a line here or there, but nothing major). Just making it more scroll-friendly. You'll know it when you see the word "redux" in the title. So without further ado...

I’ve been trying for a while to put my finger on exactly what it is about Our Flag Means Death's Calico Jack that makes me want to crawl out of my skin and smother him to death with my own abandoned ecdysis.

I mean, I normally love me a spurned admirer/cock-blocking ex. Romantic comedies have their beats, and there’s obviously no serious danger the love interest will end up with anyone other than their intended, so I may as well sit back and enjoy the machinations. After all, the course of true love never did run smooth, and these bitches are here to rough some shit up for sure. I also love Will Arnett. Hands down favorite recurring character on 30 Rock. The second best Batman after TAS (fight me). I can even cheerfully bear his Reese’s commercials if I must bear commercials at all.

Real-life Calico Jack? One of my v. favorite pirates. He wore floral-printed cotton from India as a fuck you to the British tax man. He had an affair with Anne Bonny and offered to purchase her divorce when her husband found out. The two ran away together into piracy when Bonny’s husband refused to quit her and had her whipped for her infidelity. Mary Read was part of Jack and Anne’s crew, and possibly their lover. We love a hopeless romantic, possibly polyamorous king. 

So what is it about OFMD Calico Jack that makes him so acutely punchable?

I’ve rewatched the episode several times (oh my v. dears, I really hope this write-up is worth it. I am SO BRAVE to subject myself to this), and I think I’ve finally got it. It’s not just that he’s a loud, vulgar, hectoring, drunken jackass of a bird-murderer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have as little patience for his brand of mindless destruction and violence-for-violence-sake as Stede does, but that’s not all.  It’s that he’s also a master of passive aggression.

Jack does the little whisper-y “Sorry! Sorry!” when Stede wants to know what’s with all the cannon fire, but immediately starts grinning like an unrepentant varlet as soon as he drops his hands.

And then accepts Stede’s introductory handshake with clear derision.

When Stede says he wasn’t expecting guests and there’s only two settings at brekkie, Jack doesn’t wait for Stede to sort things out, and he’s already lowering himself into Stede’s chair by the time Stede invites him to take his spot. He then purposefully keeps steering the conversation to topics that exclude Stede from participating, and cuts Stede short when he tries to reign the conversation back.

He insinuates Stede is less of a pirate for being “store bought”

He refuses to get Stede’s name right, even when corrected. Twice.

And is just SO insincere when calling him back.

And, just, the whole pissing contest scene.

But so what? We’ve had other passive aggressive assholes on the show; Badminton with his cracks about Stede’s tiny dick ship, the French captain’s slurs, Gabriel simpering about Jeff the Accountant’s dining manners. I’m not shedding any tears for their respective fates, but none of them made me want to crawl through the screen and sew all their face holes shut. Because Jack isn’t just passive-aggressive (and aggressive-aggressive), he might just be the most savvy reader-of-rooms we see on the show, and purposefully and systematically leverages his passive aggression to manipulate the actions of those around him for the purpose of making Ed and Stede betray their better selves and make them do the work of driving a wedge between themselves.   That was a lot in one sentence.  Let me break it down.

Jack uses passive aggression to achieve one of four goals: to nettle, to undermine, (seemingly paradoxically) to reinforce connections, or to coerce. And, if he can manage to achieve different goals for more than one target with the same attack? So much the better. And he’s frankly just astonishingly good at doing so. Like, I’d admire him for it if it didn’t also make me want to make him swallow all of his own teeth.

The basic gameplan goes thusly (this is not a strictly chronological list, a lot of these tactics take place concurrently and recurrently): Stede is the primary target, so Jack nettles him with passive aggressive comments, which puts him on the back foot and undermines his self-confidence. He reinforces his relationship with Ed in ways that excludes Stede and undermines Stede’s relationship with Ed and Ed’s relationship with Stede. Jack uses coercive tactics with Ed and the crew, which undermines Stede’s relationships with them, isolating and othering Stede, which further tanks his mood, which leads him to self-isolate. When Stede eventually lashes out at Ed for falling for Jack’s bullshit, Ed has no idea what’s got Stede so out-of-sorts; Jack has so carefully lead Ed to making the choices that have alienated Stede that they seem like they were Ed’s ideas in the first place. And if Ed has made the choices to do these things, then they are clearly just a reflection of who he is, which, if Stede is lashing out against them, then Stede is rejecting him. Wedge set and match.

So let’s look at the specifics.

Jack’s interactions with Ed are like a masterclass in neurolinguistic programming for evil. First, he plys Ed with booze from the very start. Just look at the bottle in this shot from right after they blow up the dresser drawer.

That bottle or rum is over half gone, and the sky in the background is the peachy-pink of sunrise. This isn’t the bottle Jack had with him in his dinghy; that one he drained and then threw in the air and tried to shoot before coming aboard the Revenge. Which means that they’ve consumed over half the bottle between just the two of them in a very short amount of time.   Alcohol, of course, is a social lubricant - the physical warmth it produces mimicking the “warm, fuzzy” feeling of true comradery, and, more importantly, decoupling the decision-making process from inhibition (that is to say, Ed isn’t necessarily doing anything he absolutely wouldn’t otherwise do, but he might otherwise think twice).

But it’s more insidious than just having a few drinks with an old friend. Jack specifically gamifies the consumption of alcohol to reinforce the coupling of the feeling of inebriation with the comradery engendered by teamwork and excitement of success in order to encourage Ed to drink more than he necessarily otherwise would. Ed confirms to Stede during his apology that the idea to use the drawers of the armoire for target practice came from Jack, and we saw that a bullseye meant that Jack had to take a drink, but Ed didn’t. Presumably, there would have been some consequence for a “miss”, and it seems likely that it would be Ed has to take a drink and not Jack. In this way, Jack is able to exert a measure of control over how much Ed is drinking (by missing on purpose) while making it look like the responsibility lies with Ed and his skill as a thrower. This pattern of sneakily controlling Ed’s actions while making it seem like Ed is the one who made or is responsible for the decision will pop up again and again during their interactions.

After the apologies for waking Stede, Jack steps into the space where Ed is gesticulating to make himself readily available to be touched, reenforcing the bond between them, but letting Ed be the one to instigate the touching.

At brekkie, he pours rum into Ed’s teacup without asking or being asked while Ed’s attention is diverted by getting food.

Jack’s collaring of the conversation does not just function as a means of making Stede feel excluded, he’s also refreshing and reinforcing the bonds he and Ed forged under adversity. Talking over Stede also demonstrates that what he has to say is more important than anything Stede might contribute.

Note that just before Jack cut him off, Stede had referred to Ed as Blackbeard (“Blackbeard and I met on a ship”). This may be innocently explained away; if you meet a person from a facet of a close friend’s life with which you do not intersect, you might refer to said friend by their given name instead of a nickname that the other person might not know, for the sake of common frame of reference. But this is the opposite of that - referring to a friend by a nickname instead of the given name that you both presumably know. That suggests to me that the seed of the Ed/Blackbeard dichotomy has already been planted in Stede’s mind by the morning’s shenanigans. And when Jack invites Stede back into participating in the conversation by talking about something he knows Stede would find upsetting (the wanton cruelty of Ed purposefully trapping people to be burned alive, couched in what sounds like sincere admiration for his friend’s piratical prowess), Jack has picked up on that distinction and is leaning into it HARD. He WANTS Stede to see Ed as a collection of behaviors he finds palatable, and Blackbeard as a collection of behaviors he finds repulsive, and then coerce Ed into performing those “Blackbeard behaviors” in order to coerce Stede to drive the wedge by rejecting him. Fucking diabolical.

When Jack is calling Stede a “big girl,” or “store-bought,” or purposefully getting his name wrong, he’s not just throwing barbs that play on Stede’s insecurities (and with such harrowing precision, too; calling on the effeminacy for which he was tormented as a child, his body image issues that we’ve also seen him struggle with under the tender mercies of Badminton - both brain-ghost and original flavor - and the authenticity of his claim to piracy, which we’ve seen him confess that he fears he’s ill-qualified to claim to Jim, Oluande, and Ed. I mean,triple bullseye for this fucking guy). He’s also using these public declarations to undermine Stede’s authority in front of his crew, and establish himself as the real authority on things like piracy and masculinity. He further reinforces this idea by withholding the story of how he saved Ed’s life under the guise of false modesty; people never want something more than when they’re told they can’t have it. And what they’re being told they can’t have is the story of how Jack was so amazing that he even managed to save the life of the coolest, most legendary pirate they know. This withholding primes the crew to think even more highly of Jack and hang on his every word.

This puts Jack into a position where he can pressure the crew into things that sound fun at first blush (like diving off the yardarm or having a snowball fight, but with coconuts), but end up hurting more than anything. Of course, within this dynamic, no one wants to admit they aren’t having a good time, or don’t want to do it; to do so would be tantamount to admitting you are less of a man or not a real pirate. So when Stede refuses to participate, or admits his discomfort or disgust with the proceedings, he’s doing Jack’s work for him, and further alienating himself, and solidifying the roles Jack had put into place where Jack is the fun, cool guy, and Stede is the killjoy that no one should listen to.

Stede unwittingly plays right into Jack’s design when he tries to stand up for himself and wrest back a modicum of respect before things get too far out of hand. He’s well-versed in the world of passive aggression, and sees what Jack is doing. He also knows that you can’t call it out because passive aggression comes with a built in cover of plausible deniability gaslighting. So instead, he tries to push back with a little passive aggression of his own, suggesting that a real pirate has a ship and a crew. Sadly, Stede is not nearly so adroit at wielding passive aggression as Jack is. Jack uses the story (and we know that Izzy sent him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole mutiny thing is just a story; I could even easily read that slight hesitation after Stede asks his question as Jack deciding on what would be the most effective cover story, instead of hesitancy to admit to something shameful) of his crew’s mutiny to casually re-sow the idea of mutiny on the Revenge. It’s played for comedy when the crew starts talking about how they almost mutinied on Stede and probably will again, but you can’t tell me this hasn’t been a major concern for Stede ever since the first episode. So Jack’s not only got the crew trying to buoy his spirits by assuring him that his crew mutinying on his doesn’t mean he’s a bad person; it’s just something that happens! He’s also got them low-key committing to a future mutiny WITHIN EARSHOT OF STEDE.

Additionally, while Stede is well-steeped in the ways of passive aggression, his crew and Ed are not. They are not particularly sophisticated at identifying passive aggression on its own merits as opposed to the reaction it provokes, which can make it look like they don’t care when it’s being leveraged against Stede, undermining his ability to trust they will look out for him. Stede stoically putting up with Jack’s jibes makes them even more difficult to identify as hurtful. Jack’s (fake) emotional reaction to Stede’s sally might make him look momentarily weak, but allows Ed and the crew to unequivocally identify who is in the wrong and react accordingly. By positioning himself as a victim, he villainizes Stede, further undermining Stede’s authority, and placing him in a position where he owes Jack recompense. Thus, Jack is able to manipulate Stede into the trap of Dead Man’s Cove and make it look like it was Stede’s own idea. I mean, the Xanatos Speed Chess of it all.

What’s heartbreaking to me is how Jack’s wedge-driving and othering of Stede is working so well that at this point we start to hear it from other sources. As they approach the island and Stede suggests going for a swim or taking a nature walk, Ed is the one who tells him, “I think with this crowd, I think they want something a little more…” Not Jack would want something more exciting, this crowd. Jack’s exclusionary rhetoric out of Ed’s mouth.

Which is exactly the time Jack decides to up the ante.

I want to take a minute to look at the immediate lead up to yardies, because I think it’s an excellent illustration of how Jack looks like a lumbering boor, but his actions are actually so carefully considered and nuanced. He runs up from behind Stede and Ed and throws his arms around them shouting “Yardies!” literally insinuating himself between them, which interrupts anything that was going on between them, puts them off balance, and focuses the attention on him. Then, when he says “Who’s up for yardies?” he makes eye-contact with Ed - the implicit social expectation being “You, Ed, are up for yardies.” When he turns to Stede, it is to literally laugh in his face. I mean, the absolute cheek.

Until this point, the crew of the Revenge have been passive participants in Jack’s hooliganry. They watched him perform whippies, and got whipped at without encouraging him to do so. They listened to his and Ed’s stories. But now Jack is cashing in on his established expertise of what real pirates do to coerce the crew into taking part in a dangerous stunt. It’s more of the “Blackbeard behavior” dichotomy he started sowing in Stede’s mind at brekkie, but now he’s extending it beyond Ed to the whole crew. He wants Stede to feel like he’s all alone in a sea of idiocy, but he wants him to come to the conclusion on his own by making it seem like Ed and the crew are doing things of which he would disapprove of their own accord.

Once we get to the island, we see the activities take a turn from the careless Jackass-ery of whippies and yardies to the abject cruelty of turtle vs. crab. There’s no saying that Jack organized the fight, but we do see the crew handing him various trinkets to be used in gambling on a winner, which certainly suggests he was the central figure in how the game was established. We also see that, though he has been presenting himself as a drunkard, there’s no bottle in his hand or around him in the sand. There is, however, one in Ed’s hand, who is directly to his side. I can easily see him handing it off so he could handle the gambling stakes, the real intention being to keep Ed readily supplied with booze.

And then we have the pissing contest. Jack’s got Stede literally and metaphorically isolated, and now it’s time to really drive it all home. Every moment of their interaction is designed to drive Stede to distraction; the amount of derision he lays on the phrase “Your good, close buddy,” the insinuation that he and Ed are just alike, and then being as rude and crass as possible. And because he’s read the room - the intimate breakfast for two, Ed’s little touches and the way Stede smiles at them, the way they keep going off together for little chats - of course Jack’s just got to twist the knife and allude to his and Ed’s former sexual history. So now that he’s got Stede primed, it’s time to name the fear: “Maybe you don’t know him at all.”

At this point, Stede is left to wonder: does he? Blackbeard’s reputation preceded him, after all. And he’s been acting so differently since the appearance of one of his oldest friends. It’s not the violence qua violence, per se; Stede is by turns delighted and impressed by the violence he’s seen Ed and his crew employ in the heat of battle in the pursuit of piracy. It’s the cruel and senseless violence that Stede objects to, and that’s exactly the brand that Jack has been peddling, and which Ed has gone along with so enthusiastically. And it’s not JUST the violence; Ed apologizes for Jack when he recognizes Jack has crossed a line in a typically agro way (destroying Stede’s belongings, and insulting Stede to his face), but it never occurs to Stede that his insistence on persevering with quietly aggrieved dignity in the face of Jack’s slights would make it nigh impossible for Ed to identify that Jack has crossed all sorts of other lines, and Stede is hurting because of it. For Stede, it must be frustrating and mystifying why Ed keeps letting his friend get away with his passive aggressive bullshit. Doesn’t he care? 

Is it any wonder that one more failure to notice how Jack has riled him, and one more act of coconut-flavored Jackass-ary is enough to break the dam, and for Stede to spill all that built-up hurt on Ed?  Is it any wonder that Ed is bewildered at where all this is coming from? I’ve talked before about Ed’s tendency to fawn on people, and how, as an emotional chameleon, he would have difficulty identifying when the motivation for his actions is self-directed or externally dictated. Jack has further confounded this distinction by manipulating scenarios to make it seem like participation in all the Jackass-ary he has instigated was voluntary instead of coerced. When Stede says “I don’t like who you are around  this guy” what he means is “I don’t like how this guy is able to manipulate you into acting on your very worst impulses”, but what Ed hears is “I don’t like you”. For who is he, if not the collection of behaviors he chooses to exhibit? And were those choices not entirely his to make? With the rift clearly established, if in its infancy, of course Jack is going to do everything he can to foster its growth. So again, he interrupts Stede, again implicitly signaling that Ed should pay attention to what he says and not Stede. By lobbing the coconut at Ed at that moment, he forestalls any possible clearing of the air between Ed and Stede, and causes Ed to literally turn his back on Stede, in the way Ed feels Stede has emotionally turned his back on him just moments earlier. Jack reinforces this idea of turning his back on Stede again moments later when he says “Don’t go!” and immediately turns Ed around by the shoulders.

I know that I’ve been laying it on a bit thick and prolly sound like the written embodiment of the red string conspiracy meme, but I’m about to get a whole lot worse, and I’m going to ask you to stick with me, oh my v. dears. I think Jack killed Karl on purpose.

I know, I know. It was an accident! He was flailing drunkenly! But was he?

Have we seen him take so much as a single drink since the cannon fire at the beginning of the episode? Even though he’d been drinking earlier, did he not have devastating precision and accuracy when he first demonstrated Whippies - shattering every glass, snapping the cards from the Swede’s fingers, and ball-tapping Ed without permanently maiming him or even splitting the leather of his pants? In fact, while nearly every other crew member on the deck has a bottle in hand, just like on the beach, Jack does not.

Jack knows he has to get Ed off the ship before the British show up, but he can’t just say “Let’s ditch these losers” and expect Ed to agree, especially since he’s spent most of the day roping the crew into his schemes. The most effective way to get Ed to follow is if Jack is rejected for just being himself and doing what he does, just like Ed feels he was earlier by Stede. I think the original plan was to goad Olu into seriously hurting the Swede, the fallout of which would be recriminations that Jack made them do it, and Jack getting aggrieved that he was just trying to show this ungrateful lot how to have a good time, skulking off and leading Ed to follow him and reassure him that he’s really a good guy - how could he have known it would turn out like that? But when Buttons calls a halt to the proceedings and it looks like everyone is going to pack it in, Jack has to think fast. If HE maims a crew mate, that would be a bridge too far, painting him as the bad guy. But Karl? He’s just a bird. And if Jack can get a little revenge on the weird bird guy who made him change his plan, so much the better. AND, as people with far fewer auditory processing issues than I have pointed out, Jack mutters that he expected there to be more feathers. Could the evidence be any more damning?

Of course the whole ship turns on him, and then here’s Stede to order him off, explicitly rejecting him the way he metaphorically rejected Ed. But when even that isn’t enough to get Ed to follow him, Jack pulls out one last, desperate manipulation - the debt of life.

Jack’s tragic flaw is that he can’t turn it off. Once he and Ed are alone, he turns his passive aggressive assault on Ed, pressuring him into drinking the morning away by sarcastically saying he didn’t know he had an audience with the pope when Ed expresses disinterest, and, ultimately, giving up the game when he mentions with casual derision how he’d heard of Ed shaking up with Stede, and then deriding Ed for his failure to spot Jack’s machinations.

Too bad Jack didn’t know that the punishment for passive-aggressive fuckery on this show is death…

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #calico jack

[bp-zb1fics]

Can you do "cuddles and kisses with lee jeonghyeon", i'm glad if u do something suggestive like lap sitting maybe?? thank youu!!

Ridiculous but you're mine~

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive themes (pls see tags!)

tw/tags: flirting, kisses, making out, hand-holding, lap sitting, non-explicit/implied s*x acts, korean pet names, leejeong being the biggest simp and pretending to hate it (spoiler: he doesn't)

wc: 1592

summary: jeonghyeon values a lot of things but he’ll make an exception for you

a/n Hi anon~ I may have gotten a little carried away with the suggestive part but I hope it's somewhat similar to what you had in mind and it's not too much. Kind of played with a different format writing this fic, idk if it works or not but I am very proud of how it turned out. Any readers for this, please, please do let me know what you think and if I should add additional tags to this, ty!

Check my pinned for more fics~

Jeonghyeon wasn’t a touchy person. Not at all. No thank you.

He’ll accept skinship if he’s feeling indulgent, he’ll freely offer a hug if someone needs it but aside from that, he generally likes to keep his personal space, well personal. 

Until you, that is. 

You don’t even need to do anything. It’s a little infuriating actually. 

You look at him and his brain completely short-circuits.

__________________________________________

“Leejeong-yah~”

He really regrets letting Mun Junghyun tell you about their “leejeong, mungjung cross.” God, that was embarrassing. And it was even more embarrassing because of how cute you thought it was and how cute he thought you were and now he has the displeasure of becoming even more flustered by his own damn name.

“Hmm?”

He’s putting his socks on, getting ready to go out because you wanted sushi and god forbid Jeonghyeon doesn’t give you what you want. It’s a little chilly so he throws on the black hoodie that you like because of how soft it is. 

He reaches for his earrings and his eyes meet yours in the mirror as he looks up to put them on. Jeonghyeon nearly drops the damned earrings. 

Don’t ask him to explain why. Literally no thoughts, head empty. He’s only beginning to recover when you walk over and give him a back hug, burying your face to the fabric of the hoodie while he just stands there, frozen like the idiot he is.

“Wahh so soft.” Your voice is muffled but Jeonghyeon is desperately fighting back the blush that threatens to bloom on his cheeks.

“We should go.” He manages to get out, glad that his voice didn’t crack.

__________________________________________

You hold his hand and any rational thought is reduced to ash.

__________________________________________

As soon as you get outside, the cold hits and Jeonghyeon immediately shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket. Before he can check on you, you’re already linking your arm with his and sliding your hand into your own pocket. Seriously, how can his heart take this?

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, bouncing up and down a little. It’s very cute and really not great for his health.

“Sushi, let’s get sushi~”

You make your way to the restaurant. Jeonghyeon can’t help but look at you, glancing around occasionally to make sure you were following the right directions but eyes always coming back to you. And he can’t help but wonder what he had done right for the universe to decide to send you his way. Someone who loved him with all his scrappy imperfections and flaws.

Suddenly a gust of cold wind tickles the back of your necks and you yelp, one hand slipping out of your pocket and into his. Jeonghyeon freezes as you wiggle your fingers between his, pressing yourself closer like you want to sink into his side.

“It’s cold.”

You say in the way of justification, not like he even needs one. For the rest of the way, you walk like that and he can only ever feel your hand in his.

__________________________________________

You pout, just a little, and whatever values he has, personal, moral, family values, all out the window.

__________________________________________

The restaurant is a sushi train. You’re directed to a booth and left alone with a tablet in case you wanted to order something that wasn’t on the train.

Jeonghyeon begins taking plates. And it was only after you had a sizable serving in front of you that he realised he took all your favourites. Really, when did he become like this? When did it become an instant serotonin boost to see your face light up like that? 

“Leejeong say ahhh~”

He mindlessly opens his mouth and lets you feed him. It’s good. Any food that’s given by you is automatically better than any other food. He’s never been one for public displays but you look at him expectantly, your bottom lip protruding ever so slightly.

It’s like he’s been hypnotised, carefully picking up a piece and feeding it to you. And no, he’ll never admit to anyone how endearing it is to watch you eat, your cheeks puffing out as you chew.

He’s a weak, weak man. And it’s all your fault, seriously it is.

__________________________________________

It’s ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

You stumble back home, bellies full. Kicking your shoes off, you tug him towards the couch and switch on that one drama you insist he watch with you. Both of you started off seated. He sits cross legged while you tuck your feet to the side, his arm resting around your shoulder.

It’s not a new drama you’re watching. No, it's one of those that you like to come back to, one of those you watch without needing to think too hard or wonder what to expect. 

Junhyeon sighs as you lean against him, comfortably pressing against his side. He watches you fondly as you mimic the dialogue on screen, the audio almost like white noise at this point. Suddenly you’re reaching up, fingers skimming feather-light across his jawline leaving little sparks in their wake.

“So handsome~” You murmur, letting your thumb ghost below his bottom lip. Jeonghyeon’s breath stutters. 

“My Leejeongie, naekko!”

He’s going to die. You’re going to kill him. Belatedly, he realises that you’re just imitating the drama. Still, his stupid heart is ready to pound its way out of his chest. Before he can think twice, he gently grabs your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You go quiet. Before he can drop your hand, you pull yourself closer, nudging at him until you’re kneel-sitting between his thighs, his legs stretched out on the couch. 

You drop his hand in favour of resting your palms on his shoulders to balance yourself. His arms are limp by his sides. Jeonghyeon almost stops breathing as you lean forward, your noses nearly touching, trying to keep his cool. You peck the corner of his mouth. He’s an absolute goner at this point. 

For the next few minutes, he lets you litter kisses all over his face, sweet on his forehead, making his cheeks flush hot, his teeth clenching as your lips brush a trail along his jaw. You chip away at his sanity every time you bring your lips to his and pause just before they touch, leaving his mouth a little more dry every time. The last straw is when you bite playfully at his collarbones, giggling at the look of utter distress that washes over his face as you tease up his neck. By the time your lips once again ghost against the corners of his, his hands grab needily at your waist.

“Dammit aegiya, please.”

Jeonghyeon breathes out shakily and you flash him a coy little smile that does bad, bad things to his heart before you finally kiss him. 

__________________________________________

God, you’re ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

Jeonghyeon can’t stop kissing you. 

His teeth scrape slightly against your bottom lip and you gasp. Your tongue flicks out to drag across the roof of his mouth and something so good just bursts in his brain. Hands squeeze your waist again, you squeak and they stroke your sides as if to soothe, sliding down to rest on your thighs. You shift, gripping to the front of your boyfriend’s hoodie and just like that, you’re fully on his lap, straddling him.

If nothing, Jeonghyeon only gets needier.

He’s mouthing at your neck, tongue teasing mindless patterns at the places he knows are sensitive. The little noises that escape you set off tiny firecrackers in his head. Your hands clench uselessly before finding their way to his hair and tugging. Heat blooms at the pit of his stomach and he bites a little harder than he meant to. The strangled noise that it draws from you is delicious and your hips jerk forward, creating friction that has him groaning. His mind is empty, save for the thought of you, how desperate he is for you.

Fingers slip under this hoodie to fidget with the waistband of his pants, every touch against bare skin has him inhaling sharply, his eyes dark and pupils blown out, staring at you in a way that has heat coursing through your whole body. He’s become bold enough to rest his palms over your ass, slipping them into your back pockets and squeezing. Your hands go a little lower and he bites back a curse, resting his forehead on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Any sense of composure is tossed aside, neither of you bothering to see where it’s gone.

It’s all shaky breathing, gasps swallowed up by lips on lips, fabric rustling and the desperate repetition of each other’s name like a plea to the universe to mould your bodies together so that you’d never be apart from each other.

Jeonghyeon’s basking in the afterglow, both of you struggling to catch your breaths. He’s as boneless as you are, languidly draping yourself on top of him, sprawling almost, limbs loose and liquid-like. You giggle and that’s when he notices the drama still playing in the background.

Hands reach for his own, and he swears he can see the stars in your eyes. You’re absolutely going to be the end of him. His heart and his mind and his body and his soul, dangling into the precipice that is you. It’s absolutely idiotic, letting himself drop in so deep, not caring about when he’ll have to hit the ground, running.

__________________________________________

And yet, he’s the one who’s ridiculous enough to fall for you, over and over and over again.

#boys planet 999 #boys planet fics #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #boys planet #boys planet mnet #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #lee jeonghyeon #lee jeonghyeon x reader #lee jeonghyeon fic #lee jeonghyeon drabble #tw suggestive #suggestive

[xxsycamore]

𝗟𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗲 [Vincent x Reader]

↬ 💛 It's as if Vincent's smile alone is able to fight your cramps, but it seems like he has a stronger weapon up his sleeve.

Vincent van Gogh x menstruating!Reader • rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; mentions of Menstruation art; Fluff; Pet names • wordcount:  973 • masterlist

a/n: It's Vincent's turn! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo, Sebastian, Arthur (NSFW) 💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look to the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

***

Did the room just get brighter or- no, that's just your boyfriend Vincent entering. The beam of light that is his smile upon finding you here is cutting through the dark clouds of despair lingering over your head... but he still seems to notice them.

"Are you alright, schatje? I don't see you laying around here often..."

You let out a meek noise signaling he's indeed right to worry, as much as you don't want this to be the case... Rising to a seated position while still hugging the pillow, you follow Vincent's baby blue eyes as he takes a seat next to you, and finally mutter the words.

"My tummy hurts."

Vincent's eyes widen further. "Oh no! What can I do for you? Do you have more of those pills from your time in your bag?"

"I don't think so... Can you just stay here with me for a while?"

Vincent takes one of your hands to caress, giving you his best smile and a nod even though you can tell he's still worried. Relaxing back in the soft cushions together with him, you find it cute how his soft sigh comes only after yours. His care is always so gentle and thorough, and you can always feel it.

Melting into his caress as he draws figures on your palm, you suddenly think of something and giggle.

"What's it, schatje?"

"I just remembered, did you know that in my time menstrual art was a thing? Like artists using menstrual blood for their paintings?"

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as soon as the question leaves your mouth, not quite sure if you should've said it after all. You know your Vincent but even so, it's a ...peculiar thing to talk about.

"Really? That's so intriguing, what a unique and bold way to represent one's struggles... I'm happy to know that the social stigma about it is no more. It never stood right with me, it's part of being...human."

You don't have the heart to tell him that this is far from the end of the stigma surrounding periods, but you're pleasantly surprised by his reaction. When you first started dating, you'd notice him getting red about any and all...adult topics, as well as the aspect of relationships as a whole, so you're glad to know you're not making him feel awkward with this. It must come from a place of understanding the human self, as you know his past of trying to learn about it for his paintings.

You mentioned menstrual art almost out of boredom, like a fun fact you randomly remembered, but somehow now you're thinking about him, about the struggles of his own that he'd once put on paper, about how much deeper he is beyond the surface. He'd get those surprised faces when he presents the meaning behind one of his paintings, like they'd never expect such depth coming from the shallow personality of Vincent who seems to always keep a default tiny smile on his face. The passion hidden beneath is only unraveled to those closest to him and... you're glad to be where you are, resting your head on his shoulder right now.

Vincent lets out one of those small chuckles that make flowers bloom in your chest.

"Just as I ran out of red blood."

Blink.

You raise your head from Vincent's shoulder to look at him. He smiles at you, tilting his head, but you can see something bubbling underneath the surface, as if he's holding in his laughter.

You give in first so he naturally follows, reassuring with words too as an extra measure.

"I'm joking, sorry. The others said I should joke more often... something about being able to keep a straight face."

"They're right!" You say between fits of chuckles that continue to come when you imagine this conversation taking place. "Not because of the straight face, you're genuinely funny."

"Hehe, I don't get that often. Thank you."

You return the soft smile Vincent gives you, and you're being nudged into resting your head down once again. It's then that you notice.

"I think my tummy doesn't ache as much anymore!"

Vincent's gasp is barely audible, but this close up you catch it just fine. Or maybe you're sensitive about his reactions like that.

"That's good to hear. After all, laughter is the best medicine."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire vincent #ikevamp vincent #ikemen vampire vincent van gogh #ikemen vincent #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp fluff #ikemen series #ikeseries #otome

[atlasdoe]

hello, i am bored. here are some unpopular opinions that may very well get me cancelled if i posted this on tiktok

do not read if you know youre going to get mad if i say something you disagree with

the over feminisation and over-aggressive characterisations of sirius and remus are so left field it makes my eye twitch. like if you wanna write them like that then fine but don't tell me that one scene of sirius wearing something nice and one scene of remus throwing harry up a wall (while he's in the middle of like a twenty year war with all of his friends dead mind you) means that they were as people are interpreting them in cannon

the fandom isn't misogynistic. you just want everyone to care about the same characters the way you do despite the fact that very little of them (especially the girls really besides lily and the black sisters) have any character/story to care about to begin with

on that same note, it is not wolfstar and jegulus' shippers job to write dorlene and marylily fics. there are over 6000 fics tagged under dorlene and over 2000 for marylily which is really impressive and a really big number for ships containing two people who don't have any connection to one another

we cannot blame every death on dumbledore. dumbledore was manipulative and not a very good person but he wasn't out here deliberately getting all the people on his side killed

this fandom is obsessed with tragedy so much that tragedy has now become repetitive and boring. i love a good sad story but what is the point in taking every single character and making them live the worst life possible. its like yall are only capable in caring for a character if they have literally the worst ending ever

the marauders weren't child soldiers. They were young but they weren't children.

on the same note just because barty, evan and peter (and any other death eater) was young does not excuse them of their actions. I'm 20 and I know that i wouldn't betray all of my friends or help torture new parents into insanity

deciding that pandora somehow had to be a part of a death eater family was the worst thing this fandom did to her character

it pisses me off when the fandom will bend over backwards to try to connect the same 12 characters to every headcannon imaginable when there are so many other characters that you could use

despite this tho i hate the whole "ravenpuff" thing. As someone who actually cares about Emmeline, Edgar, Fabian, Gideon, Amelia, Benjy, Caradoc and all of that it annoys me to no end when the only time people post about them is to shove them all into the two least cared about houses and decides that they were all friends while giving them the most uncreative name out there. if you dont care about them then dont post about them

marlene is the most overrated character in the fandom

james and marlene being childhood best friends is my least favourite headcannon

mary obliviating herself is the worst headcannon

remus lupin is a bottom

sirius black is tall

marlene being in ravenclaw > marlene being in gryffindor

this fandom really needs to remember that barty and evan were villains. if you like them then that's completely fine but stop trying to make them secretly good

i can only ship sirius with remus but i can ship remus with literally anyone (so long as they are actually his age or older. for some reason i cant ship remus with people who are over a year younger then him)

i dont think its fair to say that if you like regulus then you cant shit on snape stans but it is utterly unfair to stan barty and evan but shit on snape stans

fancasting and commenting on normal peoples tiktoks is stupid and embarrassing. we are HATED by other fandoms and is it because we are unable to stay in our lane. stop getting into other peoples buisness by commenting "REMUS LUPIN" under a Spiderman edit

james would not have stopped talking to sirius after the prank. He'd be mad at him and he'd tell him off but he wouldn't stop talking to him. If James had to pick between Sirius and anyone he's picking Sirius

on that note i think the only people who weren't talking to sirius after the prank was remus and lily. mostly because i dont think anyone other then the marauders and lily would even have known that remus was a werewolf at the time

ALSO evan, barty and regulus would not befriend remus after the prank. firstly they wouldnt care and even if they did they would be more likely to abuse the fact that they know about him being a werewolf

im sick of seeing people try to shame others for shipping wolfstar but not marylily because "theyre the same ship." theyre literally not. just because YOU hc mary and lily to have a similar dynamic as remus and sirius doesnt mean that theyre the same and doesnt mean that everyone else should think so to. Same with literally every other ship that gets compared to another based on headcannons

this is getting really long so imma leave it there

#i originally was going to write massive paragraphs explaining my points #but then i realised that no one would read them #so if you want an explination ill give you one if you ask nicely #also please excuse my bad and inconsistent grammer im lazy #the marauders #harry potter #the marauders era #wolfstar #jegulus #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #marylily #dorlene #lily evans #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #rosekiller #pandora lovegood

[trashlama]

Heeeeeyyyyy.... guess who's ADHD can't let them write for shit?~ This bitch✨~

I suuuuuucck guys I know! I did a poll and everything just so I would have to write some of these! I just couldn't help but get side tracked.... My brain is in the LMK and Spiderverse fandoms!!! Though I will say I basically got this Rise Donnie x Big Mama Assistant req almost done. Almost I say. We'll see if I post it in the next two days and not something else random instead.... I suck lol

Anyways— here's my 3am thoughts from the other night that I'm finish up tonight ironically at 3am again. Soooo bare with me these are basically a bunch of summaries/plots/not fully flushed out possible one shot ideas I might do. Probably could've re-read it a couple more times buuuuttt it's about to be 4 now so....

I hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

+++++++++++++++++++

Sooooo I was going through the Across the Spiderverse tag(specifically Miguel O'Hara) because you know he's hot. Priorities— Anyways— I kinda had an idea. Brahhzz what if I just took the whole Miguel kidnapping his dead wife/lover's alternate dimensional copy deal that everyone has been throwing around and introduced a new take on this tale?

We all know that the Spiderverse is very open to a wide selection of possibilities and versions of Spiderman and we're all aware that the same thing applies to other characters as well. Soooo who said that Y/n has to be a civilian/or a version of Spiderman for this idea to work?

My fellow peeps I introduce to you Earth 2099 Miguel O'Hara x  Villain/Alchemax worker/Morally Grey scientist Reader!

I can kinda see this playing out in a few ways.

1.)Villain reader investigating the strange phenomenon that occurred a couple months before hacking the multi verse and stirring up trouble. Miguel intervenes and takes what he wants.

For the last year since the bizarre phenomenon in downtown Brooklyn you've been stirring up more trouble than you typical due to collecting the materials needed for your "experiments" to figure out what that phenomenon really was and what the hell was Alchemax —your ex-employers— were up to with your research. With some finessing of the illegal kind you figure out what the corporation was up to. Before being fired you had discovered the existence of the multiverse however before you could investigate any further you were let go. Now that you have your research back you're able to Doc Octo this shit and break into the multiverse. If you could pull this off nothing was stopping ya' from fulfilling yer goal and maybe scoring some fame while you were at it. After some convoluted ass science mumbojumbo. You manage to Doc Octo this shit and break into the dimensional web that held the spider verse. Inside the alternate universe you immediately start messing up shit straight off the back as soon as you fly through the colorful portal. Miguel is quick to pick up on this anomaly and sends some Spiders out to handle the issue. Long story short— they fail. Forcing Miguel's hand to go and correct the anomaly himself. Only to find that it was you. Her. His dead wife/or dead lover. The only problem is that you're obviously not a good guy. Miguel being Miguel will try to rationalize it to himself as he demolishes your equipment/suit that you're not his Y/n, you're a villain, he can't keep you without risking a whole universe just for his selfish desires. However as he stood over your defeated helpless form. He decided. If one anomaly can exist and not destroy existence why can't another? There were ways around this. There had to be. Holding you in his grasp again the hero wasn't sure if he could let you go once again....

2.) You're an inventor/scientist that works at Alchemax/or your another rogue scientist . Either way you're looking to get into the Spider verse. Since the phenomenon from a couple months ago you've been intrigued by the strange occurrence. The news labeled it a "strange weather occurrence" however you knew that wasn't the case. If you're working at Alchemax you've known about the phenomenon since the beginning. If you're an inventor/scientist (with some grey morals) you found out after some research and trespassing. Either way your tinkering pays off thanks to the help of some stolen tech from Alchemax and an interesting glitch from the hacked tech. You eventually have yourself a fully operational universe hopping watch. And where do you end up? Right in the middle of Earth 2099. Miguel is immediately alerted of your presence. An obvious stranger to this Jetson world you find yourself quickly apprehended by a small group of spiders/or Miguel. Either way the red & blue leotard nosferatu as soon as he catches sight of you the dude is all over you. Miguel may be a man who would like to believe he is in control of himself and his rash decisions buuuuttt that's gonna be a nah. Never had the Spiderman ever expected to speak to an alternate version of his dead wife. Especially in person. Every time he's stolen a glance it was from a distance or behind one of his various monitors. He couldn't risk ruining another verse. However somehow regardless of his attempts to keep his desires at bay you've still managed to break past that last thing that was keeping you from him. Now that you're here the thirty year old wasn't sure if he could let you leave him again...

3.) What if instead of breaking into the multi verse. Alchemax employee/Morally Grey scientist Reader! is lured into the multiverse? In your home verse the Miguel who you had married was dead. Struggling with piling debt and depression you choose to bury your problems under research into the weird phenomenon that occurred in downtown Brooklyn a few months before. During this time of trial and error you figure out how to access the multiverse thanks to some misplaced Alchemax files and risky choices. The documents aid in building the device that would aid in your plan to find your ex-husband's alternate universe copy. All the while you were walking right into Miguel's clutches. Cause like you Miguel was having an equally hard time getting over his family's death. Although they are gone the widowed father couldn't help but, search for his loved ones amongst the various worlds that rest at his finger tips. He needed them. He needed you....and you needed him. Although you guys weren't from the same earth you both can replace the pain that was birthed from this tragedy and regain something more. Just be a family.... Hopefully you want to play his game because Miguel couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

Alrighty guys that's all for now! Sorry if they're a little all over the place. Regardless I hope you guys liked them and I hope you guys have a good week!

#im a simp #yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse yandere #yandere spiderman #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #dead doves do not eat #lol i suck #rough idea #rough draft #incomplete #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #yanderecore #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #yandere miguel ohara #yandere spiderman x reader #yandere marvel

[mammalsofaction]

Those Moments When We Didn't Get Along

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Human Perry, mute Perry, POV Outsider, the whole Flynn-Fletcher family, set during the breakup scene from About Time.

A/N: The lore behind Perry and Lawrence's relationship is in compliance with the Human Perry Lore post I've made a while back here. Perry's sister, Lawrence's ex-wife, was named Evelyn, AKA Agent Eve the Echidna. (Get it, egg laying mammals native to Australia?)

Now read it on Ao3!

"Perry?" Lawrence calls out, knocking on his door. The room is dark, unlit, but the answering churr is unmistakable. He sounds...

"Are you alright, dear boy?" This time, an indecipherable grunt. "Linda sent me up to tell you dinner's ready. May I come in?"

When he hears no response, which is as good of an answer on its own, he pushes the door to let himself inside, and instinctively reaches for the light switch.

Perry's face down on the bed, still partly dressed in his teal work clothes. He doesn't flinch.

"My word, old boy, what's happened?" Lawrence demands, mildly alarmed. Perry bats his hands away when he plops himself down next to him on the mattress, shoving at his shoulder, but he does it without twisting himself around. "Don't be like that, let me look at you. Perry. What's gotten into you?"

Then he hears it. The unmistakable sniffle.

Lawrence gapes. "Have you just broken up with someone?"

It was an educated guess, but the way Perry leaps up to slap at his face all but confirms it. Lawrence supposed he had said it too loudly considering the kind of household they're in. He could swear Candace's hearing could be supersonic sometimes. "We didn't even know you were dating anybody," Lawrence chides, half despairing. Perry tries to plop back down into bed, and Lawrence doesn't let him. Going so far as to physically set himself between Perry and the miserably crumpled mattress so his foster-cum-brother-in-law was throwing himself into his embrace instead.

Lawrence pats Perry's back, commiserating. Perry's buried his face in the crook of Lawrence's throat. He hadn't gotten more than a glance at Perry's face, but what he's seen has practically torn his heart apart; nothing but swollen eyes and visible tear tracks. "What happened?" He asks again, helplessly. "Will you tell me?"

Lawrence half-expects being ignored. Both of them knew that Lawrence knew, at least partially, the hidden truth of Perry's career, but it wasn't from anything Perry ever tells him in person. There are some unmistakeable aspects of himself that he still clamps down on, and Lawrence would never presume to push.

So he's taken by surprise when Perry shrugs, noncommittal, then raises his hands to sign; Think I just got cheated on.

"You what?"  Lawrence hisses.

It's fine, I don't-

"No, Perry." Lawrence fumes emphatically, and the teak haired man stops short in surprise. "It is very clearly not fine."

Lawrence-

It's too late. Lawrence had already gotten to his feet, hands on his hips in a way that Candace had once told him made him look his own age, in a derogatory manner. He isn't thinking about that now, though. Now all he is is vibrating at an visible frequency of second-hand outrage. Dinner first, Lawrence thinks to himself. Then he will...he will drive out, and get Perry some ice cream so they can. Can stew and Perry will eat his heart out and they can cry and rage all about this....this no-good heartbreaking bedswerving cad.

This he tells to Perry, who responds by simply burying his face back into his pillow so he could continue wallowing. Lawrence feels generous enough to let him, but he leaves the lights on as he stomps his way downstairs, where the family was happily eating dinner before they see the look on Lawrence's face.

"Dad?" Phineas asked innocently. "What happened? Where's Uncle Perry?"

"I'm afraid Uncle Perry will not be joining us for dinner tonight, boys, and will unfortunately be out of commission until spoken otherwise."

"Out of commission?" The boy gasped dramatically, kneeling on his chair. Candace and Linda had both curiously put their spoons down. "He's sick?" Phineas concludes in dismay. Ferb blinks, shocked.

"Of a sort." Lawrence answers grimly.

"Of a sort?" Candace grunts. "What kind of answer is that? He's either sick or he isn't." Her tone was haughty, skeptical, but Lawrence could hear the concern in her inflection from a mile away. Candace loved pretending she cared less than she truthfully did.

When Lawrence feels the tug on his sleeve, he turns to see Linda, who had a carefully concealed look of concern. A single flick of her eyes in the direction of Perry's room was all she needed to communicate her offer; Dinner?

Lawrence nods, then points to the car keys, hanging by the front door.

Her brow furrows further in concern, but they both know that it wasn't the right time to properly ask. She turns to back to the kids instead. "Honey, why don't you help me make a plate of dinner, and Candace can send it up to Uncle Perry?"

"I want to help send it up!"

"There shouldn't be too many people in Uncle Perry's room, dear, he might have a headache."

"Me and Ferb will be really quiet, please please please please please-,"

Lawrence leaves them to it, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Linda's temple and ruffling Ferb's hair as he makes his way out. He feels the boy's gaze follow him all the way to the door, but doesn't realize he's being followed until he turns around to shut the door behind him.

Ferb blinks expectantly.

"Oh, go inside, my boy, it's chilly! I'll just be a moment."

The boy responds by pulling a pair of mittens, and his purple bobblehead hat from his deep pockets, blinking again once he shrugs them on.

There was no talking Ferb out of something he's clearly made his mind about. Lawrence sighs, taking his hand as they walk to the garage.

"Alright," Lawrence concedes. "But promise we'll keep this between you and me, alright?"

Lawrence doesn't doubt he will. Ferb blinks eagerly in compliance.

-----

Lawrence figures the boy's figured it out, on their way home from the supermarket, cradling a chilly tub of Perry's favourite ice cream between his legs on the ride home and nothing else. He had snuck a couple packets of antibiotics and fever patches into the basket while they were out shopping, and Lawrence had awkwardly put each one of them back.

When Lawrence returns the sachet of night-time tea they both know Perry favours when he's actually sick, the boy had turned to him with such a deeply knowing look Lawrence felt busted for something he hadn't even been trying to hide, much less of any sort of trouble. The boy said nothing. He didn't have to. He reached for nothing else (save for a packet of gum from the side of the register of both his and Phineas' favourite brand) and remained perfectly well behaved for the rest of the trip.

"Now Ferb," Lawrence says warily, as they start pulling into their street. "You will have to promise me to keep this between us, not even to Phineas if he hasn't figured it out yet. Your uncle is the private sort, and I can't imagine he will want his dirty laundry waved all across town in the state that he's in. He's feeling vulnerable, you understand?"

Ferb nods firmly. Lawrence stretches out his pinky.

"Promise?"

Ferb takes it, and they shake on it like men.

"Good boy." Lawrence says proudly, once again ruffling his hair, and pulls into the driveway of the house.

Ferb rushes inside to put the tub in the freezer (Lawrence hears Phineas happy greeting from the kitchen, "Oh, there you are, Ferb." ) and Linda comes forward to take his jacket, welcoming him home with a gentle kiss. "Welcome home, stud. Found everything he needed?"

"As far as we know. Did you get to talk to him?" 

"He's not in a chatty mood. Though Candace squirreled a thing or two out of him; think she figured out faster than I did."

"She's always got a good head on her shoulders." Lawrence concedes, unsurprised.

"When need be." Linda agrees, before her facade drops and he spies a glimpse of regret. "I didn't even know he was dating someone."

Much less it was anything this serious. Goes unspoken. "I'm inclined to think it's deliberate. Not that we didn't have our suspicions."

"Did he say anything to you?"

Lawrence hesitates. "Not much." He hedges, unconvincingly, from the look of his wife's face. He sighs, and triple checks that the children had dispersed their own ways out of earshot.

"He did say," Lawrence begins carefully. "That there was some matter of. Infidelity involved."

Linda gasped. "Oh, that poor man."

"Not particularly forthcoming beyond the statement."

"Do you think it's one of his...co-workers?"

Lawrence glanced at Linda with a raised brow, but she seems firm with her line of questioning. She's one step further removed from any personal knowledge of Perry's life choices, and occupation-but Lawrence could hide from her as well as blood from gauze. She knew everything he did of Perry's career, which was never much at all. Enough to go by. Enough to reassure her it wouldn't harm their children.

Lawrence had never even considered this, but now that he was, it made a terrifying amount of sense. "I'm obligated to think it might be." He acquiesced. "Might be more complicated than your run of the mill splitting sob story."

Linda hums in agreement, before tactfully changing gears. "I'll reheat your dinner. Did you get him rocky road?"

"Mint chocolate."

"Oh my."

"I'm afraid we'll have to pull out all the stops this time around."

"Maybe I'll pull out my cake pan."

-----

In the days that follow, Perry remains inconsolable.

He's mostly taken to stuffing his face in chips and junk food in front of the TV, half watching re-runs, but for a couple of hours each day the children manage to convince him to participate in their backyard projects, and Candace even manages to coax him to come with her on a trip to the mall. Perry had come home laughing, with a new pair of jeans and flip flops, raving for some obscure chinese martial arts movie they had watched together. The joviality didn't stay, but it was still such a relief to see.

On a pleasantly windy Thursday night, while they've set up a fire and a couple of beers for a Men's Night In in the backyard, Perry nudges his shoulder to tell him, lightly, that he's thinking of quitting.

Lawrence inhales his drink down the wrong tube, and practically coughs his lungs out. Perry thumps him helpfully on the back, and politely refuses to comment.

"Perry," Lawrence gasps, when he's gotten his breath back. "Perry, that's-,"

That's good, he wants to say. But was it really? Bias aside...

That's odd, seemed a bit more truthful, but what kind of response would that be? Nothing at all.

"Are you really?" Is what he ends up saying, more baffled than he meant to put out. Perry shrugs, avoiding his gaze. A moment passes as he takes a sip, and running his thumb around the circumference of the tap.

Maybe not really. Perry admits. Just. I'm getting on in years, maybe I'm not fit for any of the fieldwork I used to do in my twenties. Maybe train some recruits, let someone new take my place.

This was the longest, most honest conversation they've had surrounding Perry's career. Even compared to the one surrounding Evelyn's death, almost a decade ago now.

He knows Perry enjoys fieldwork. It's been largely implied he prodigiously excels in it. So had Evelyn. He had never begrudged her for it, not even till her very end.

Lawrence wonders what changed. He doesn't have to for very long.

The honesty in the air makes him bold, almost uncharacteristically so. "This partner of yours," he starts, careful, careful. "Who was he? To you?"

Perry smiles, a small, bitter thing.

He was everything.

------

Then one day, Perry comes home and he's...better.

Not a 180, but it's. Close. A noticeably stark difference than how he had been last night that it even puts Phineas off, but only for a moment. Mostly he was just ecstatic.

"Uncle Perry's better!" The boy cheers and giggled, dangled beneath Perry's pit like a sack of fresh loam. Ferb's hanging from the back of his shoulders, kicking happily and trying to pull himself up. The man doesn't seem to notice, or mind, the pain. "He's better! He's better! Candace look!"

Ferb manages to haul himself up to sit and wrap his legs around Perry's shoulders, and Perry grunts, reaching back to help him establish balance as he drops a wiggly Phineas back on his feet to reach his mother, chopping lentils in the kitchen.

"Perry? Oh!" Linda says, surprised as Perry swoops in to plant a kiss on her cheek. She giggles, and pinches his. "Welcome home, you blasted rouge. Are you going to help me with dinner?"

Perry responds by taking over chopping duties, pulling the board closer to himself and stealing away her knife to commence vegetable slicing duties. His speed, and the nonchalance that accompanies it-despite the heavy burden around his shoulders, swinging his legs- was almost terrifying, but Linda barely notices. She's reaching for her phone by the cooking stove, sending her husband a red alert. Perry was whistling.

"I gather you had a pretty good day at work, huh?" She muses, half-serious.

He gives her a cheeky one-shouldered shrug, eyes rolling up. His smile dimples. Maybe.

She's practically burning with curiousity, but knows that now wasn't the time to ask. "Well, I'm making braised chicken. Why don't you help me with the asparagus? Ferb, sweetie, you want to get down and help me with seasoning the chicken breast?"

"Oh, but mom!! Asparagus makes Ferb farts so stinky!" Phineas complains.

"It also makes your farts stinky, mister. Now go help Perry pre-heat the oven."

-----

After dinner, Lawrence drops by again. In contrast to the state of things when the trouble began, his room is well-lit, and instead of resting, Perry's at his desk with his reading glasses, and a stack of documents he folds and puts away, out of sight, before he lets Lawrence in with a warm chitter.

As if the last few days never happened at all.

Lawrence has been witness to something like this a few times before, but it never gets any less off-putting, to realize he was so distant from the heat of things -the state, the conflict- and being privy only to the resolution.

Perry had been cheated on, by a man who meant everything. And now?

"Just wanted to check on how things were going." He says, closing the door behind him. "The kids were telling me you're feeling a lot better."

Perry, confoundingly, began to blush, looking down at his pen, rolled and fidgeted between his fingers. I am, he tells Lawrence. Wish I could say it was a huge misunderstanding, even if it was, a little bit. We just never put it into words, what we were, and I think it never occurred to us how much it would hurt, for him to have done what he did.

Perry put down his pen, picked it back up again, uses it to scratch the back of his nape as he looks at Lawrence a little bashfully. Then he puts the pen back down. It surprised me too, that I took to it as bad as I did. What we had was something...special. I didn't realize...

Lawrence looked at him intensely, arms crossed. When he determines Perry had nothing else to say, he asked -what he knew to be- the most important question of all. "And did he apologize?"

Perry smiles. It dimples. This time, it's directed at Lawrence himself, instead of a special man in the distant mind. He did. Perry signs.

"And he meant it?"

As much as he could.

"Well," Lawrence proclaims brusquely. He's trying to sound stern, but the undeniable lovesick smile on Perry was contagious. "So long as he doesn't do it again...,"

Oh, Perry signs ominously. He won't.

Lawrence finally lets himself smile, echoing the childish joy on his brother-in-law's face. "Well," he chuckles. "Then I suppose that's all that matters, doesn't it?"

Perry concedes with an affectionate roll of his eyes, but when Lawrence comes forward to hug him, he returns it right back tenfold.

Thank you, he signs meaningfully.

"You're family, Perry." Lawrence replies, with a shake of his head. "What slights you is a slight to all of us, and your joy is ours. Family sticks together."

It's an old catchphrase of a woman long gone, beyond what's left of her in both their hearts, and Perry tears up. Though he plays it off with a dismissive sniffle, and a bump of their shoulders.

You can be just as insufferable as she was. He signs, more affectionately than he wants to pretend to be. His tone shifts, grows bashful again.

Lawrence, he signs. Slow, hesitant. Do you think....if things ever....and I brought him over to meet...would you...like...?

The implications of Perry's broken up request was as strong as a punch to his gut, and Lawrence fears he might have lost his cool in his eagerness. "Of course we will!" He restrains himself to a stage whisper. He fears he would wake the neighbourhood in excitement, otherwise. "Perry, of course we will. I'll...we'll be honoured, my boy."

He means it too, and Perry could tell. His smile was blinding, and his blush had spread brighter than his skin tone, all across the bridge of his nose. You have to be cool about it. He makes Lawrence promise.

"Oh, totally." Lawrence reassures him. He's putting it on a little bit, on account of it making Perry laugh. "Chill. 100 percent-o. Call me liquid nitrogen the fact that I am lighter than air. I am pre-emptively cooling a block of ice. Call me Fro-zone the way I'm-,"

Get out, Perry demands. Barely. He's also doubled over in laughter. Oh my god, just get out before you make me regret this.

"Getting out!" Lawrence complies with a salute, and dashes out the room. He can still hear Perry chuckling as he closes the door behind him. His cheeks ache from his grin. All better, indeed.

Flushed with triumph and good tidings, he embarks on a mission to find his wife and share the wonderful news.

#heinz doofenshmirtz #perryshmirtz #human perry #phineas and ferb #choice of fic

[alternativeminiatures]

Ok, let's talk about Lost In Space.

In the early 2000's there wasn't as much 40k fanfiction as today, you had Turn Signals on a Land Raider, and... I really can't remember. But I do remember Lost In Space!

This is probably one of my favorite 40k comics, even if it only has around 50 strips and never was completed. Sadly the website was nuked on january 2006, and nowadays, it's a bit hard to find all its published content. But hey, guess what? I'm a data hoarder, and found almost all the comic on my external hard drive, and the four strips I didn't have, I found them on a russian website, in russian, but @varanguard did me the favour of translating them back to english.

So, what now? I think I'm going to put it here with tags, so people can find it; lost media is something we should take more seriously, books, videogames, series, music, etc... all human creation should have a place.

What happened to the website? I asked a friend if he remembers and he told me back then James was throwing a fit about copyright, and closed many fan content websites, so yeah, it could be the answer.

And what about the author? Ok, this is a complex subject. Technically, the last we know about the author is a post on DeviantArt where they talks about getting a copy of all the strips and wanting to publish them there, they started on september 2006, and the last one is from october 2006, there are only 11 strips, I think I have near 80 between LiS, Meanwhile and Grail Quest.

Soooo... I still wanted to know if it was ok to put the comic here, and you see, I am a very good internet sleuth, very good, so good that from a complete stranger putting funny drawings on the internets 20 years ago, now I may know their complete name, where they live, where they work, I got 4 different emails and their work telephone number*. And at this point I realized I had jumped head first without parachute into creepy territory (I blame my autism, when you focus onto something it's hard to know when to stop).

And now, contacting the author with the information I got that they didn't put out there to be contacted, to talk about something they haven't talked about for almost 20 years, feels disturbing, like crossing 30km of red lines and boundaries, and way worse than putting the comic out there without their permission.

I think I'm going to follow the spirit of their last post and share the comic, but if somebody has any idea, comment or observation, please, let me know.

*be vigilant about your internet privacy and what you put out there!! I'm just a basic nerd and was able to get all that information with just google! All the people telling you to be careful are not paranoid, they know how easy is to find information about somebody!

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #lost in space 40k #lost media #space marines #sisters of battle #imperial guard