#where it was the only thing that would distract me

[propertyofwicked]

FIRST - LN

lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)

warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink

✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧

masterlist the playlist

“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.

being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.

“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.

“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.

“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.

“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.

“i ju-”

“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.

in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.

she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.

this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.

“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.

“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.

“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”

“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.

“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.

oh he knew her a little too well.

“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.

“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.

“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.

lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.

“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.

“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”

“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.

“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”

“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.

“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.

“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.

“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”

“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.

“huh?” max replied, confused.

“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.

the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.

“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”

“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”

lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.

y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.

there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.

max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.

max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?

the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.

“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.

“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.

“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.

“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.

“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.

“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.

“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.

“tell that to the scar on my back.”

“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.

“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.

“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.

“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”

“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.

“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”

“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.

he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.

“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.

“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”

his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.

“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.

“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.

“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”

his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.

“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.

“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.

“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.

“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”

“kiss me.”

“wha-”

“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”

lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.

“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.

“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.

“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.

“there’s no one i trust more.”

with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.

“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.

“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”

“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.

“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.

“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.

“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.

“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.

“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.

“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”

“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.

“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.

“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.

“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.

“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.

“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”

she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.

“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.

“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”

“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.

“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”

lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.

“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.

“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.

“yes, fuck lan. only you.”

he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.

“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.

lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.

“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.

“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.

“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.

“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.

“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.

“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.

“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.

“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.

“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.

minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.

“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.

“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.

“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.

“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”

“preach.”

-

✧ inbox/requests are open ✧

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

[mikkeneko]

That post about Marcille and Laios' relationship actually got me thinking about Chilchuck and Laios' relationship. Which is harder to see in some ways because it mostly consists of positive absences.

At first, viewers might be inclined to wonder why Chilchuck sticks with the party. He says it's because he took payment up front, but he could give back part of the deposit and leave. Two other party members left; Laios explicitly gave Marcille and Chilchuck a choice as to whether they would stay or go, and they both chose to stay.

We know why Marcille chose to stay; she wants to save Falin and she considers the other party members her friends. Why did Chilchuck stay?

Chilchuck actually respects Laios a lot -- food and monster weirdness aside -- and that mostly comes I think through the positive absences from above. The things that Laios does not do.

Laios doesn't deliberately expose Chilchuck to danger or regard him as expendable. When Chilchuck starts to get enthralled by the sirens' song, Laios immediately snaps him out of it. Contrast that to Chilchuck relating that other adventuring parties will sometimes bring half-foots along just to sacrifice them or use them as bait!

Laios doesn't insist that Chilchuck put himself in danger by getting into combat. Even in situations where they're in danger and could really use more combatants, he only ever asks Chilchuck to take on non-combat tasks such as creating distractions.

Laios doesn't get in the way when Chilchuck is working and follows his directives of what to do around traps. He respects Chilchuck's work so much that he will even hand over his sword without hesitation, even when doing such a thing causes it to be damaged!

Laios doesn't press Chilchuck to divulge private information. When Chilchuck says he doesn't mix his professional and private lives, Laios respects that and doesn't push.

All the other party members infringe on these boundaries in some way. Izutsumi tries to egg Chilchuck into combat; Marcille pries into his home life; Senshi deliberately provokes him when he's trying to work. Not Laios. Once Chilchuck sets a boundary, Laios does his best to always respect it. (And I think Laios appreciates having clearly defined Rules For Chilchuck.)

Laios is a good party leader and he takes care of his team. Maybe this is my age showing, but when you find yourself in a good work situation with a good boss, you stay in that job.

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #laios touden #chilchuk tims

[anakinsdove]

Sub sam monroe x fem friends hot older sister ❔

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it’s been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he’s still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn’t there before.

c/w: nsfw, loser Sammy, blowjob

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 1,352

“What’s that for?” You ask your little rat of a brother why he’s suddenly carrying enough snacks to throw a party.

“Sam is coming over, he’s going to spend the night here” Your brother says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Who?” “Sam” he rolls his eyes “Oh! Sammy, blonde, walks weird?” “Yes…” he’s slightly confused at your description then he realizes you haven’t seen Sam in a while…. A long while?

“He dyed his hair” your brother ads “Seriously?” You say sarcastically clearly faking interest trying to find something worth watching on tv “And he walks normally” “I’m sure he does”

“Anyways aren’t you a little bit too old for sleepovers?” Your condescending tone is very annoying to your brother but that’s what sisters do. “Aren’t you too old for Halloween?” “Huh?” Your brother smirks pointing at your makeup, you respond by throwing the pillow on the couch with enough force it feels like a brick, he runs upstairs

“coward” you mutter to yourself and suddenly someone’s knocking on the door

Someone’s knocking extremely loud

You decide to ignore it as you keep painting your nails but the knocking is very persistent and it gets louder somehow accidentally painting your toe “fucking loser” you curse under your breathe and stand up walking furiously towards the door.

“What!?” Your tone is harsh and the boy takes a step back, Sam looks stupid as he makes sure he’s in the right house “I-is James here?”

“Sam?” You ask softly this time, your anger quickly dissipating from your features, eyeing him up and down… wow.

“Hi Y/N”

You open the door for him to come in as he awkwardly goes through the door, he tries to keep his hips as far he can from yours while walking in, you sigh at the awkward silence

“How have you been-“ “You look very different-“ both of you say at the same time “You look the same” he says “I looks twelve?” God you’re making fun of him

Hes about to answer when your brother comes down running from the stairs “Sorry dude I was taking a shit!” He greets him as you stand aside

“Don’t talk to her Sam” your brother says smirking “Shut up man” they run upstairs and you shrug trying to shake the awkwardness away

You keep trying to distract yourself with tv but it isn’t fucking working

Sam Monroe….

He looked so different from what you remembered, he’s taller, there’s a lot of piercings stuff on his face and you’re pretty sure he was wearing eyeshadow.. his hair now it’s black… funny because you remembered him being blonde and looking like a puppet, you giggle at the thought… Oh! and his clothes, he was wearing a Metallica t shirt, Vintage….

You moan and you realize you been rubbing your clit through your panties this whole time then gasping in embarrassment and closing your legs

What a slut… what if someone saw you rubbing your cloth on your living room, that would be a reason to kill yourself, what if Sam saw you like that?… that however doesn’t sound as bad

Control yourself Y/n

A few hours later the sun has set… you succeeded distracting yourself and as soon as Sam leaves you won’t have to see him again you’ll forget this awkward chapter in your life where you masturbated to the thought of your younger brother’s friend until… “Why me man!?” “Cause I’m about to win this level” “Youre shit at the game” “Shut up!” you hear the boys arguing upstairs “It’s just fucking popcorn Sam” your brother mocks him as Sam sighs coming down the stairs

You can’t help but look up at him “Hey” Sam stops midway “Hey” he tries to sound and look relaxed, but when did your boobs get so big?

“Pop corn?” You asks pointing at the box he’s holding in his hand “I’ll burn them” he says

“It’ll be my brothers fault” you laugh and Sam smiles “C’mon” you guide him to the kitchen and put the popcorn in the stove “You look very different too” he responds to your earlier conversation, you smirk at the opportunity of teasing “Really? I thought I looked twelve” “Fuck no” he suppresses a laugh and you nod playfully “Well, maybe a little” “Fuck off” you push him playfully and his back makes contact with the counter “You still have your dimples when you smile” your heart actually softens at his comment “You don’t look like a puppet anymore” he rolled his eyes “I meant that in some ways you look the same but in other- other ways you look very different” he stares at you collarbone

“Sam?” You take a step forward “It’s mean to look at girls boobs when they’re talking” he freezes “I was not-“ you grab his bicep “I always knew you liked me” Sam is really about to die or kill himself, whatever is option is quicker… instead he grabs your waits and pulls you to him then freezes again “You want to kiss me Sammy?” His gaze switches from your eyes to your lips, to your boobs that look so good in that thank top, then your lips again, his lips hesitantly meet you in a clumsy kiss… but then you find out he’s so hungry for this, teeth clatter and he hums into your mouth, his hands shaking as he holds your waist…. You pull away teasingly as he tries to chase your lips but you have other plans like kissing his neck

“Fuck” he moans, his little sound has you clenching your thighs, you need this boy asap…as you nibble and suck his neck then pulling away again “Sam” “What?” He says breathlessly

“Can I suck you off?” WHAT THE FUCK he nodds shakily and you get on your knees “J-James?” Sam’s says as he watches you unbuckle his belt “Don’t talk about my fucking brother when I’m going to give you a blowjob” “Sorry..” “He’s playing, he wont find out.” You try to reassure this poor boy as he nods shakily “I promise” you unzip his pants and take his boxers down urgently, it’s too much, you hear the popcorn popping, heavy breathe, the waves crashing distantly… his cock slapped against his stomach… Sam looks down at you in awe

You start stroking him, watching the angry red tip leaking already, “w-wait wait I’m gonna c-cum” Sam warns virgins you think to yourself and force yourself to stop stroking him, if he’s gonna fucking cum he’s cumming down your throath tonight “fine” you say angrily and take him down your throat “Fuck!” Sam moans as his shaky hand tangles in your hair pushing you down further “I can’t I can’t I’m sorry” his eyes roll back and his back arches, your wet lips wrapping around his thick cock…. Sucking him sloppy it’s just so much

He doesn’t know why god is on his side tonight but he’s not complaining, he beats himself mentally, he seeing stars, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and all that cringy shit he once heard, now he knows it’s real, he feels your tongue massaging the underside of his cock and you make something with your tongue where it licks at his balls slightly and-

“Fuck!” He yells as he cums…. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throath, he tastes salty…

Your doe eyes look up at him seductively as you keep licking his tip, his legs tremble as he spasms, he has to push you away so he doesn’t pass out

You finally release his cock from your mouth “breathe Sammy….” “Fuck sorry I-“ his breathe is heavy “Shhh….” You kiss his lips softly so he tastes his own cum…..

“You’re sleeping here right?” He nodds

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” he nodds again and you know this boy is completely at your mercy

“Oh and Sammy….. your popcorn” you point to the stove and evident smoke “Shit!” Sam runs and trips over his pants, pulling them up quickly and trying to not burn your damn house.

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

(Im very sorry for the absence! I been pretty much busy and a little unmotivated to write but I’ll try to post another fic this week, this was a little bit rushed but I hope you like it)

@anakinsbbgirl

#sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe smut #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe hayden christensen #sam monroe life as a house #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen

[essektheylyss]

for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.

Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.

Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.

He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.

With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."

So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.

Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.

With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.

In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."

Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.

Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.

So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.

#unpopular opinion meme #this got so long and it's late cuz I had to go pull receipts but I am correct on all counts 😤 #but since it's long and I did cite my sources I'll also toss it in #cr meta

[revengeghoulette]

Matcha Latte w/Rose

Part 2: The Date

They go on their date!!

A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.

WC: 3k

Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul

It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.  

Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses. 

On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together. 

Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.  

“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.

“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.

“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”

After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”

Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”

Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”

Swiss nods slowly. 

Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”

Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand. 

Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together. 

They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more. 

‐

With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books. 

Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.

“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties. 

Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge. 

He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”

Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?” 

“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet. 

-

After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday. 

Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.  

He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.

In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot. 

He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him. 

“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out. 

They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently. 

“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain. 

“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”

After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.

“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.  

“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”

“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions. 

“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.

-

Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6. 

Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks. 

Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.” 

Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.  

“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires. 

“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”

After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.

 “Swiss, what are we doing here?”

“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”

Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them. 

“Swiss… how?”

“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.

They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood. 

As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later. 

“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him. 

“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.” 

“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”

Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter. 

“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”

Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.” 

Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead.  It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”

Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.

Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes. 

“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains. 

 That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath. 

Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace. 

“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.

Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.

Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.

“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined. 

“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone. 

Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls. 

Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.

They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly. 

“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants. 

Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.

Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.

“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick. 

The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.

Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven. 

“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”

Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting. 

Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.  

Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert. 

“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”

Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it. 

Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him. 

“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages. 

Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.

“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.” 

“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”

“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”

Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean. 

“And I love you, Mountain.” 

-

After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.

“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”

“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.

Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.

“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside. 

Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door. 

“Fuck.” 

He exhales as tears roll down his face. 

Part 3, soon, sorry

#revenge works #Matcha Latte #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost the band #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #mist ghoulette #sunny ghoulette #steamy make out session #angst? #barista swiss #professor mountain #coffee shop au #my fic #idk if that was a good dinner to serve but whatever #i dont go on dates

[obsessed-with-stardew]

After His Show

After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…

Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving

AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)

Wc: 4400

It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.

“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?” 

“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.

“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.

You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”

“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.

The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop. 

As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”

“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.

You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.

“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.

“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.

Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.

The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.

Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.

Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing. 

Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair. 

“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.

“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 

You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette. 

“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.

“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.

Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.

Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.

“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist. 

You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.

“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils. 

“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”

The back door to the venue opens with a bang.

“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”

“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.

Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.

His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.

“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”

“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.

Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.

When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”

Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out. 

He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.

Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.

Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.

“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time. 

The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.

The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.

After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm. 

“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.

“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands. 

“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat. 

The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.

“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”

You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”

“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”

You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.

“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.

Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.

“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks. 

“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say. 

“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.

You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”

“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.

You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.

Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath. 

“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.

His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you. 

“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.

Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.

“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease. 

“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink. 

The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.

God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.

His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment. 

Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.

His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.

Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes. 

“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls. 

“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair. 

“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.

Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length. 

“On your knees baby.” 

You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience. 

“That’s a good girl,” he growls. 

He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.

And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.

“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.

He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. 

He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.” 

You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties. 

“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.

He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole. 

“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back. 

Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.

He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man. 

He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close. 

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.” 

And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.

The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.

He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.

Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.

Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand. 

“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night. 

#i'm sorry it took so long to write something #unfortunately I am an adult #and i have a job and a life outside of this #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian smut #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x female reader #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv smut #sebastian sdv #biker smut #rockstar bf #? #stardew smut #sdv #stardew valley smut #stardew sebastian smut #stardew valley sebastian smut #sebastian smut #stardew sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian x farmer #sebby #stardew

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my aprents about my brother vaping?

I (16F), have a brother (14M). For some background, over the years, we've gotten into a lot of conflict, but overall today, we've come to understand each other a lot more, and I genuinely enjoy spending time with him.

My parents, more specifically my dad (65), took on this kind of predisposition regarding my brother, where hes the big troublemaker "thug" (not my words), and he's compared him (even if he wasn't fully aware to realize the weight of his words), to my older half-brother who ended up spending most of his teen years as a dropout, who ruined his career due to a lot of immature volatility directed at others.

While in some part, I can understand my dad's thought process, and how there's definitely fear there, what with my brother getting in trouble at school, and often getting into a lot of shit with his friends, my brother's also shown a lot of positive characteristics more recently too, and I'm really proud of him for that, and I've *seen* his struggle.

I've seen how stuff like this and other things my dad has said make my brother feel, and its the only reason I'm so unsure about telling my parents

Around a week ago, I went to go wake my brother up for school, forgetting he wasn't supposed to go that day (suspended), and saw him sleeping in his bed next to a vape. Initially, I didn't know what to do except for take pictures of it and decide to confront him later, not initially wanting to get my parents involved.

i eventually forgot about it completely, what with all me being distracted and getting sick, and now today, and I've found him on his bed with a vape next to him again (Its a different vape this time, too).

The first one had a very colorful design, so I guess I had just hoped it was some sort of weird imitation candy or something??? but now im genuinely not sure of what to do, since I really don't want him getting in serious trouble (not only that, but he has asthma, so it could pose an actual threat to his health.)

I hardly know anything about vapes or what kind of stuff they put in them, but im genuinely worried he could form an addiction and/or fuck up his lungs.

Im worried that my dad would never give him any amount of freedom afterward, and that he might lose all good faith in him, I dont want that, but I'm worried if there isn't any kind of action, he wouldn't really change, and I don't want to ruin my relationship with him.

WIBTA?

#aita #am i the asshole

[charliewhaw]

Ooohhh what if alastor joined the V’s? That’s an interesting scenario to think about and how different alastor and Vox’s relationship would be

(I’ve thought about this a lot, but have never come to a definite conclusion on it before. Guess today is the day to do that! Also, sorry for taking so long. Been a hectic time! Things should come out smoother and faster going forward!)

Vox would pop the question easily. “Will you join me?” He knew Alastor would say ‘yes’ because how could he not? Them? Taking over Hell together? There was no other way this would go. Alastor was Vox’s perfect match. In both body and mind.

Vox was used to getting his way, in life and in the afterlife. He was used to getting everything he wanted from anyone he wanted it from. So, he would, of course, expect Alastor to fall in line and give himself to Vox. He couldn’t even imagine a scenario where ‘no’ would be an option. But Vox isn’t stupid. He knew Alastor would be a challenge to convince and conquer. It would take a lot of careful persuasion on Vox’s part, but eventually, Alastor would agree to join the Vees on the condition that he didn’t have to change his name. Vox’s solution to this was to throw an “A” into his logo’s shadow, indicating the Vees and also boldly representing the man who was both a master of shadows, and who would become a master at manipulating Vox.

Vox would reach out his hand for Alastor to take and hold, but Alastor would misunderstand and shake his hand instead. Alastor would consistently misunderstand Vox’s intentions. It would be both frustrating and endearing to Vox. Every moment with Alstor was so entertaining.

Vox would run his company as the CEO, naturally, but Alastor would be his right-hand man, whispering into Vox’s ear what he should do next. Alastor wasn’t a businessman, however. So, Vox would adjust his ideas and make them profitable. But if Alastor suggested something, you can guarantee it was going to happen. Alastor is an extremely intelligent man and Vox would have no doubt Alastor’s plans would benefit his company in the end, even if they seemed strange at the time of implementation. It would become extremely easy for Alastor to take advantage of this influence he had over Vox. The only thing Vox would refuse to do was let go of Valentino. His studios were too profitable, and it would be a shame to not be in control of one of Hell’s greatest money-makers. So, Alastor’s suggestions for killing Valentino or converting the studios into something else would be denied each and every time. Vox would then attempt to distract Alastor with some other scheme.

Vox is a man of many talents and skills: One of those skills is simping over Alastor. The man could do no wrong, and that perspective Vox held would be made obvious whenever Alastor was called out for his bullshit. You see, Alastor is a jokester. He enjoys entertaining himself. A master of shenanigans, if you will. He would find no difficulty in doing such things around the V-Tower. Specifically, to Valentino. While Alastor’s pranks would be mild to most– often involving a play on words, his pranks on Valentino would be much more… severe. He might pour oil on the staircase in Valentino’s bedroom. Or replace his eye drops with acid. Alastor would find every second of Valentino’s suffering to be highly amusing. Valentino would regularly complain to Vox, who would jump to Alastor’s defense in a heartbeat. Alastor would never be scolded. There might be a time or two that Vox would ask him, in private, to cool down the intensity of his pranks on Valentino, but Vox would make no real effort to stop Alastor’s antics.

Alastor and Vox were best friends, first and foremost. They'd spend time together, whether it was inside the V-Tower or elsewhere. Alastor enjoyed walking around town, simply to people-watch. So, that’s what Vox would enjoy too. Only, he just people-watched Alastor. If they passed by a store and Alastor’s eyes lingered on something in the window for even a second too long, Vox would be at the cash register buying said item without a second thought. Alastor particularly did this with food. Vox had come to realize, however, that anything sweet Alastor looked at was more for how pretty it appeared rather than the taste. He wouldn’t buy Alastor anything sweet.

Alastor would end up needing a separate room in the V-Tower from his bedroom just to hold the trinkets and objects Vox would buy him. He also would have his own radio studio at the top of the tower. Vox would offer him assistants and secretaries, but Alastor would refuse, preferring to be a one-man show. Anyone else simply wasn’t good enough. Alastor’s bedroom and studio would be the most old-fashioned parts of the tower. He would keep to his old ways, preferring to do things the way he liked and was comfortable with. However, he wouldn’t be unreasonably averse to modern technology.

Alastor would own a cell phone. Vox would insist he did so he could call him or text him in an emergency. Alastor would barely touch it, often forget to take it with him, wouldn't remember to charge it, and when he texts, he'd type and reply so slowly it would give Velvette a headache. Vox would introduce him to mobile games at one point, searching through the app store to find something Alastor might like. He'd come across Plague Inc. and started playing it so Al could learn how to play. Alastor would end up falling asleep, bored by the entire experience. Vox would make a note that Alastor just didn’t like cell phones like a normal person would.

Alastor would hang out with Velvette a lot. She'd hate every second of it, which would only make Alastor enjoy her company even more. On several occasions, Velvette would end up calling Vox to come get his deer, “He’s distractin’ me!” And that he would be. He'd tell her jokes and bad puns until she yelled at him to shut up.

Alastor's only interactions with Valentino would be to make snide remarks or to prank him. However, some of Valentino’s employees would come into talking range with Alastor sometimes, and Alastor, forever the talkative, charismatic gentleman he was, would attempt to engage in conversation. So long as that conversation didn’t veer into inappropriate territory, which it usually didn’t. All of Valentino’s employees understood that Alastor and Valentino hated each other and were on opposite ends of the sexual spectrum. Actually, one employee managed to name Alastor’s lack of sexual interest. This person would have been Angel Dust.

“Asexual” Angel called him the third time they ran into each other. “Excuse me?” “You’re asexual. Ya don’t like sex. Like, at all.” Alastor would be offended that Angel even brought the topic up at first, and when Angel attempted to say it was okay to be asexual and it was just a word to describe people like him, Alastor would have scared him off with a tightened grin and a thinly veiled threat. But Alastor would think about this a lot, and eventually come to terms with it. He would ask Vox about it, and Vox wouldn’t be surprised in the least bit. Alastor would hold a bit of a soft spot for Angel Dust after this, but he’d never show it or admit to it.

Alastor would still own his soul. Niffty and Husk were his favorites, and he would summon them into the tower on occasion to handle some business. He didn’t like anyone touching his stuff, but he could trust Niffty and thus, she'd be his personal maid. Husk would become a secretary of sorts. Anything Alastor didn’t want to deal with, Husk was tasked with doing. From meeting with people on Al’s behalf to running errands. Even doing paperwork. Husk would be paid in booze.

Vox got to use Husk and Niffty too. Niffty would be the only one delicate enough to dust the wires in his control room and not mess anything up. Husk would be tasked with feeding Vox���s sharks from time to time. Husk would quickly become afraid of sharks.

Vox would attend Carmilla’s meetings with Alastor; Velvette and Valentino would not. Vox would always sit next to Al, pulling his chair a bit closer to Alastor than the other overlords sat from each other. No one would mention it. It would be a common belief in Hell that Alastor and Vox were secretly a couple, but no one would dare to voice it out loud. Rosie would sit on Alastor’s other side.

After the meetings, Rosie, Vox, and Alastor would all go out to eat somewhere. Seeing as Alastor and Vox were good friends, it would be only natural for Rosie to develop a friendship with Vox as well. Whenever Alastor left the table, Rosie would prod Vox to confess his feelings to Alastor. Vox would deny he had any. Whenever Vox left the table, Rosie would prompt Alastor to tell her his thoughts on Vox. Alastor’s thoughts would always be vague but positive. Rosie could get nowhere with them.

Speaking of Alastor’s friends, Vox and Mimzy would have a bickering relationship. They’d argue a lot, but they both cared for Alastor, in their own ways. Sometimes, Alastor would get too rowdy or feral and Vox would pay Mimzy to deal with him and return him home safely. Alastor would always come home drunk, and Vox would put him to bed. He loved tucking Alastor into bed and making sure he was safe and snuggled up in his silky, hoof-print sheets. Alastor would wake up the next morning with a hangover and no memory of what happened the night before. Mimzy would also have no memory of what happened. Luckily for Vox, his placement of cameras all over the city and inside most buildings would prove useful. Once he put Alastor to bed, Vox would roam through the camera footage and watch what took place. It would always be Alastor and Mimzy drinking too much, dancing on tables, and then stumbling around, disappearing into his shadows, reappearing, looking around confused, then eventually finding his way back to the V-Tower. On days when Vox was particularly worried about Alastor, he’d watch the camera feeds in real-time, spying on Alastor’s time with Mimzy.

Alastor would enjoy being part of the Vees and Vox would be so happy to have Alastor close by. Ahh, what could’ve been!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #radiostatic #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbinhotel velvette #hazbin hotel ask blog #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel angel dust

[bakubunny]

actually i need to see that conversation happen.

@dummy-mars

tw: semi-dark content, hurt/comfort

y’know the one where you flat out tell aizawa the truth about what makes you tick and why you are the way you are. you’ve explained what you want plenty of times, and all of that is fine and good, but you’ve never put all the pieces together for him plainly in your own words.

“…no, shota. i don’t think you understand. i feel like i need you in a way that would make my father’s stomach turn. and i would enjoy it,” you said.

“oh?” he replied, his gaze stoic.

it was almost irritating, how calm he was about the whole thing. yet whether you could see it or not, he was feeling you out. he was trying to figure out what it was you needed in that moment.

“yes, i -”

your face grew hot. your throat burned as you turned away from him to busy your hands.

“fuck it. fuck this whole conversation,” you spat out, voice laced with frustration. “i know i’m being incredibly immature right now. i’m sorry, but i can’t do this.”

he nodded. “okay. you can’t do what?”

“i can’t talk about this,” you replied, chest tightening by the second.

“…you can’t talk about what you need?” shota asked gently.

“i-i didn’t say - i didn’t mean - i don’t need any of this,” you sputtered. “i want things, yeah. but there’s nothing i need.”

there was a long pause. shota wrapped his arms around your middle from behind and kissed you on the head and stood quietly with you.

your face continued to heat up, whether from embarrassment or impending tears, you weren’t sure. “i’m serious. i don’t need anything,” you said.

shota sighed softly and pulled you closer. “how long have you told yourself that?”

the fabric of his sweatshirt under your fingers was the only distraction you had to keep yourself from crying.

“when was the last time you accepted your need to be loved?…” he asked.

you chewed on your lip as a tear fell and stained your shirt.

“i’m right here. i’m not going to leave. and i want to give you what you need,” shota said softly. “will you let me?”

#u try to say smth to gross him out or maybe get him goin and it totally backfires 💀 #this… this was meant to be spicy and it did not turn out that way 💀 #x reader #aizawa shouta #tw dark content #tw daddy kink #sort of? #bakubunny

[comfortless]

omg your könig posts just heal me. how do you think he’d deal w/ someone who just gets sad a lot?

He’s just awful!

König has braved an eternal winter his whole life. He knows what depression feels like, knows how sadness and badness can creep in even during your happiest moments. Considers that he’s already met the demiurge and is punished with an everlasting purgatory.

And König also knows loneliness intimately. He never had an arm around him those nights he spent curled in his bed sobbing far away from where any eyes could see. His “comfort” came in the form of demands from both internally and externally; his father’s voice always rung out far above the rest. Be stronger. More of a man.

With you, a part of him breaks.

Because despite knowing these things down to the marrow, helping with them has never been a skill of his. He can kill a man in seconds, ram through a door with practiced posture in less than a minute, but helping you when you’re sad is entirely foreign to him.

It’s hell entirely, because you’re sad so often. He does what a good lover should: fetches you gifts and food, holds you tight, buries you in nothing but words he deems sweet enough (even if they’re a bit crude).

And often you don’t want any of it.

You shutdown when he hovers and badgers, always pleading with you to explain what’s wrong. You’re curling into yourself, facing away when he tries his best to pull you in. Sometimes it’s an aggressive sort of love — forcing you into his lap and holding your face while you cry your little heart out, dragging you out of the house to sit in the sun while you babble about your woes (or even lack of, really, he just wants something to go off of), and an abundance of unsolicited advice as to what may help your mental state (as though he himself has not ghosted every poor therapist he's ever had). The gifts only increase and your every need is taken care of as though you were physically ill.

He’s aware enough to know that he’s being a total nuisance, too. He expects you to lash out, tell him to stop his pestering and coddling. And König would even enjoy your anger, because it’s something other than being sad and withdrawn. All of this only stems from what he felt he may have needed when he was a pitiful, lonely boy.

So, he holds you close, pampers you like the finest treasure, speaks softer and chooses his words a little better. There are no threats of hours of unhinged sex now, but he’s still a pervert: offers to lick you to take your mind off of whatever is going on. It’s a good distraction, he’s certain, because a wank in the barracks usually does aid him when you’re apart and that sadness creeps its way in.

And more often than not, he’ll question if it’s he who caused all of this. He’s not a good man, never pretends to be. He’s brutish and socially stunted in ways only seen in feral people or beasts in myth. König won’t ask for reassurance directly, very rarely wants you to see him seeming so vulnerable and small, but it’s evident how this growing aching reflects your own. The confessions of love come tenfold, not just for you, but because he needs to hear you say them too.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Making AGSZC go to an amusement park together would be a spectacular view

Things That Happen At The Amusement Park

Genesis is excited to ride the zipper again, a ride notorious for being hard to handle. Except it's a two-person ride and Angeal refuses to go with him, citing that the last time he went on it, he met the goddess. Sephiroth unwisely offers to go with him. *Sephiroth and Genesis are strapped in before the ride starts* Sephiroth: You said this is a safe, ferris-wheel-type ride, correct? Genesis, lying: Absolutely. Sephiroth: Alright. I'm sure it's not so bad. After all, we're SOLDIER. We're trained to handle everything. *3 minutes into the ride, when they're being violently tossed around* Sephiroth: GENESIS YOU SON OF A BITCH Genesis: YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH? Sephiroth: I'M ABOUT TO, WHEN I REUNITE WITH HER IN TWO MINUTES.

Zack finds a stand that sells deep-fried butter wrapped in bacon dipped in cheese, thinks he found heaven, and eats 13 before he starts looking green and Angeal confiscates it from him.

Angeal wants Cloud and Zack to take pictures with some theme park characters, so he ushers the boys towards them and coordinates a cute pose. Angeal: There, now smile—Zack stop crying, Kenny Crow can't hurt you. Zack, sobbing with Kenny Crow's arm gripped tightly around him: HELP

The boys meet up again to go on the drop ride together. What they don't tell you before you go on the ride, is that the more it creeps up to the sky, the more you're inclined to believe that you will die, so start confessing to everything. *Right before the drop* Sephiroth: Gentlemen, it has been an honor serving alongside you. Genesis, scared: STOP SAYING THAT! WE'RE NOT GONNA DIE! Zack: Okay! Cloud, remember that slice of pizza you were saving in the fridge? I ate it, man! I'm sorry! Sephiroth: There will be no pizza in heaven. Genesis, sobbing: STOP IT! Cloud: It's okay! Remember your favorite mug that mysteriously broke? That was me! Sephiroth: Creature comforts such as colorful mugs will not be available after death. Genesis, screaming: HELP

They lose Sephiroth in the park and split up trying to find him. It turns out Sephiroth got distracted by one of those carnival booth games where you win prizes if you can shoot at the targets. It's supposed to be rigged, but somehow Sephiroth shot all of them. *They finally locate Sephiroth* Zack: Thank GOD—What the heck is that?? *Sephiroth is holding a giant stuffed moogle* Sephiroth: The fruits of my labor.

Angeal ends up tying a balloon to Sephiroth's wrist. This is non-negotiable and Sephiroth now has to walk around the park with a shame balloon shaped like a dragon.

They visit a haunted house. Cloud: I'm not sure about this….It looks kinda dangerous. Zack: Don't be ridiculous, Cloud. What could be dangerous about some dumb kiddy haunted house that's filled with a bunch of actors in costumes? *10 minutes later* *All five of them run out screaming, being chased by an evil clown with a chainsaw* Genesis: SEPHIROTH RUN! Sephiroth: I'm not bothered by the evil clown. If anything he reminds me of you before you have your morning coffee.

Genesis, offended, takes a swing at Sephiroth. Angeal, Zack and Cloud come back for them and find the evil clown separating the two, who are fighting.

Then they go on a roller coaster. It's all fun and games until the carts get stuck at the very top right before the drop. Genesis gets bored very easily and starts reciting Loveless. Angeal did not know rage until he was in this situation. *Zack starts crying because he can't take it anymore* Genesis: Aww, Puppy? Have I moved you to tears? I'll start over from the top. When the war of the beats brings about the world's end…." *Zack screams and sobs harder*

They visit the gift shop to buy souvenirs. Angeal walks out with shot glasses, Genesis with an expensive notebook, and Zack and Cloud with more stuffed animals and figurines they can carry.

The only thing that appeals to Sephiroth is a set of 5 keychains, each shaped like puzzle pieces that connect to each other.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #storytime

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 4/34 - phone battery

[Read on AO3]

After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.

“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.

“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”

“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”

Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.

“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.

“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”

“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”

“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.

He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery. 

He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.

He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. 

“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.

“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”

Ah.

He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.

“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.

“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.

He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”

That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing. 

“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”

“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.

She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.

“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips. 

He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.

-.-.-

Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.

“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.

He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.

“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”

“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”

He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.

“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.

She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”

He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.

“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”

She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.

Success.

Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—

“What about Skinner?”

She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”

“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”

Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.

“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”

He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”

His focused gaze implores her to consider it. 

“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”

He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?

“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”

His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.

“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”

~~~

SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it

Chapter 5/34 - rulebook

“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”

“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”

Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.

His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”

“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”

“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.

“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.

Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”

Emily. A story he never had fully explained.

“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”

Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”

“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”

That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been. 

“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”

The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.

Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.

“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”

Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.

“Married.”

Mulder nods. “That’s right.”

Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.

“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”

Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again. 

“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”

“Sir—”

“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs…”

“Sir, I—”

Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed. 

“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”

“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.

Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”

A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”

“A formality,” Skinner repeats.

“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”

One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.

“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”

Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”

“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.

“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.

The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”

“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.

“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”

He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…

“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.

He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”

Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.

Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.

As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable. 

“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”

Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”

He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”

“We’d really appreciate that.”

They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight. 

Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.

They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.

-.-.-

"I want to get married Christmas Eve."

The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.

"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.

She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."

"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.

"Mulder..."

"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."

He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."

"I know, it's just... hard."

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.

"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought. 

"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest. 

"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.

This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”

He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."

"Stop it, that didn't really happen."

"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."

"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."

They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.

"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"

She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."

Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—

"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."

"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."

She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."

"You're ridiculous."

-.-.-

The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.

"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.

"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."

"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."

He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."

"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.

"Not all of them, but, you know—"

"Bill."

"Yeah."

He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"

She waits a moment more before responding. 

"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”

Oh boy.

"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.

"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."

"Scully—"

"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."

"All excellent points, except for one thing..."

"Skinner can call us in."

Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.

"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.

"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses. 

"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."

The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.

"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."

"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."

He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.

"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."

She protests, "That's not why I—"

"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."

After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.

‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.

It's a Christmas miracle.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[nebbyy]

How would Baldwin act if reader was on her period cause I know in the medieval period they handled menstrual cycles differently?

King Baldwin x reader - period

A/N: Aww that is so sweet! Yes you're right, it was handled quite differently and if you look it up you'd be impressed of how badass women are to have been handling so much stuff for so long with no recognition until recent times!!

Little info as always, painting is "The Deceitfulness of Riches" by Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale.

Warning: mentions of blood and period-related pain, plus some historical negligence on women's health and that's it

Okay so, in the Middle Ages period was something every woman knew of, but no one ever really said anything about

Up until very late in the time period, women were considered dirty, impure creatures, guilty of committing the original sin and to relentlessly tempt men with their mere existence

Period had become during these centuries a symbol of women's impurity and less than human nature, so they were taught from a very early age to hide it as best as they could

But do I have to tell you that Baldwin could not believe less to it?

Similar things had been said to him and his leprosy, how it was a curse that had been sent upon him by God himself for his own vanity and greed, that he was an impure man just because of something he couldn't actually control

He wouldn't see the negative conceptions of period, he'd only see your pain and discomfort, and that would be enough to tear his soul in half

He'd come up to you, gently wrapping an arm around your lower waist, unknowingly bringing you a little comfort from his mere body heat, and he'd gently whisper in your ear

"My angel, I know you're fatigued right now. Go back to our chambers and tell me what you need, I'll provide for it all in a second"

You'd try to reject the offer and change subject out of modesty and embarrassment. There's no need for his help, really, you're used to this like any other woman, the last thing he needs to worry about is your own discomfort

He, of course, wouldn't listen and just escort you to your silky bed where he'd almost force you to lay onto

He would ask you if you're too cold, too hot, if you're hungry, what you'd like to eat then, if you're thirsty, if you need company and loving touches or if you'd rather be left alone

Anything you ask for, you'll get in no time

It would probably end up with him lying next to you, gently putting a warm hand on your pelvis while he held a book on the other one, reading out loud so that you could relax and distract from your pain and discomfort

And once you fall asleep and his servants would loudly announce that dinner is ready and waiting, he'd quickly put a finger to his lips, urging them to be quiet as the love of his life is resting

This would go on for as long as you need, whether it's as long as your period lasts or just the first days. Whatever, really

Because, yes, period was considered a punishment for the sins and impurity of all women, but with Baldwin that definition could never resonate, for you're the purest, most perfect creature living in his life, and he sees this monthly occurrence as a divine test to your soul and spirit, a test he'd gladly help you through anytime

#king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #headcanons #period mention #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x you #requests open #anon request #anonymous

[rongzhi]

ok ive taken a deep breath and steeled myself. what do you think of liu yu

I'm going to put this under a cut because I rambled a little, but I wanted to offer my detailed impression :P Rest assured! No tearing to shreds occurred. He remains intact.

Well, I didn’t know who this guy was, so I took myself to the ole Wikipedia and my first thought was wow! Look at those label names.

Second thoughts: Ooh, dancer. I'm looking forward to see how the dancing is (if he still dances).

I have heard of INTO1 but don't watch idol competition shows, but it's impressive that he placed first. I decided to listen to/watch two songs/performances: his first single, 靠岸, from 2019, and his most recent single from 2023, Focus.

靠岸 didn't seemed to have an official video, so I ended up watching a live performance from a show called Mr. Radio.

I was pleasantly surprised by this song! Seeing that he had been on Produce Camp, I was expecting a more pop kind of song, but this was a song I could imagine playing in the OT of a drama (in a good way!). I think his performance was a little shaky here, but I sense that maybe he was nervous? Either way, he seems a little shy here, where this song would really benefit from a powerhouse performance. Idk, maybe it was also a sound mixing issue. I like the song, though. Very pretty. I went to listen to the studio recording and it was a lot better—much closer to what I was hoping to get. The oooooh part sort of reminds me of a Zhou Shen song whose title I can't remember at the moment. It was space themed, though. (EDIT: the song I was thinking about was Cassini)

Next up!! Focus. I watched the Official Music Video on Youtube first.

Coming off 靠岸， I could see from the thumbnail that this song would be closer to the pop sound that I expected, so the things I was interested in seeing was the MV concept and the dancing. On first watch, I didn't really listen to the lyrics much, because there were no captions to read and I can't really tell what people are saying in pop songs anyway.

I have to admit that going into the video with the big gray space only, I thought it was pretty ugly at first. I just think that the CG structure on pale BG concept always looks cheap no matter who does it, though, and Liu Yu seems like a sort of tiny guy, so with all the dancers around him, I initially thought he looked a little swamped by them.

At 0:48 when we got a flash of the all-black cowboy look, again I was a bit disappointed, thinking that there wouldn't be much edge to concepts.

Then we got to the, I'm gonna say, test lab sewer gothic, and I thought "ok, at least that's something". It's definitely be done before but there's more production in that set and look, so at least the whole video isn't just going to be a gray void. The flash of Liu Yu standing in as his own princess was kind of interesting (disappointed this character never showed up in the music video again)

Now I know said I wasn't going to rip him to shreds and that's because....!!! When the beat dropped, I went "ok wait" lol. At 1:03, I witnessed evidence of stage presence and was like "oh we are so back, baby"

Still not a fan of the big pale space, and I think Liu Yu's charisma was most visible in the sewer gothic scenes and weakest in the scenes where he's wearing the silver ice skating outfit looking blouse, but maybe that's just because it distracts you with his little twig body. I personally can't buy into the energy of someone who looks like the most movable object on earth.

3:03 the "yuh" made me laugh tho

MV looks ranked (best to worst):

One thing that I didn't like about the MV (but understand is necessary) was that the video kept cutting right as I thought to myself "Oh, this is a nice bit of dancing", and I wish the shots had been wider on the dance moves instead of cutting him off at the ribs. A wider dance version in the sewer (I know that's not what it was but jhkalfjl) would've been appreciated by me. With that in mind, I decided to see if there was a dance performance video and there was! As suspected, the choreography in the beginning of the song is also just not that strong or compelling to me. It sort of gives intermediate hiphop 2 dance recital. My favorite part of choreo is the breakdown at 2:56.

Anyway, I hope these impressions were sufficient! I didn't check him out on any variety shows so I can't comment much on what I think about his personality, but from a music/performance standpoint, I think he's pretty good. Not really the kind of stuff I listen to anymore but if I still kept up with idols, maybe I'd check him out from time to time :)

#text #answered ask #liu yu

[subaquatic0mess]

Alenoah Hypnosis AU, where Alejandro offers to hypnotize Noah, Noah says yes but makes sure that Owen + Izzy + Tyler is around to make sure that Alejandro doesn't make him do anything too embarrassing...

But Alejandro only adds a hypnotic trigger... Whenever Alejandro offers Noah a hug, Noah feels a strong urge to cuddle Alejandro... It's Alejandro own way of playfully messing with Noah... Noah hates it (but secretly enjoys the cuddles)... Owen + Izzy + Tyler doesn't stop Alejandro from adding the trigger, cause they think the hugging might help the anti-social grumpy Noah...

NOAH (while hugging Alejandro): "I'll get you for this, you eel..." 🍥

I've induced myself into to much content about this idea already so I'll give you a quick response so that I don't become hella biased or just repeat something someone else might have already said. (Did I say quick? Fuck that, future me had other ideas.)

Something I would like to see is Noah gradually understanding how to suppress the urges of the hypnosis with Owen's help.

By that I don't mean he just randomly stopped being able to be hypnotised or something.

I mean that Noah would realize just hiw much control Alejandro had over him and he realized he couldn't do anything about it.

This then brings Noah to consistently try to explain to Owen how wrong this is and that he needs him to help him to not give in. Yet it wasn't that easy he knew that if that eel even doubted Noah was retaliating he'd most definitely put a stop to it.

So this ends up with Owen confused as he keeps recieveing mixed signals from Noah who seems to switch up almost completely when Alejandro joins the same room. (Noah isn't taking chances.)

So this ends up with Noah practically beggin Owen to pay attention to the next time he gets hypnotised.

This results in Owen seeing his best buddy go from his usual self to someone who wasn't there. The way Noah disassociated scared Owen a bit.

Now Owen would try to understand how he views Alejandro. Alejandro was supposed to be a good guy no? Why does this feel so wrong then?

The moment Noah would regain focus he'd probably be quite alarmed as his chubby buddy is quite literally having a crisis. See what I mean now Owen?

And this would result in the two slowly scheming a way of making sure Noah would be able to control the trigger of his hypnosis.

Owen making sure Noah avoided Alejandro.

Noah trying to concentrate on Owen rather than Alejandro.

Owen trying to distract Alejandro when he saw he was hypnotising Noah breaking his focus midway through. That last one was quite helpful. Hope is not something the cynic feels too often but this is important.

Hope.

Knowing that he can break even if only momentarily from Alejandro's grasp.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Something I invision would maybe be Noah being able to free himself from his grasp but not emidiatly making it clear for anyone else. Besides Owen.

Like now they have the power over that eel. Ofcoirse this would work for only a little since I feel like after all of what happened Noah would be pissed.

And he isn't one to just express himself. He's too lazy for that.

And since he bottled up his anger I have a feeling there would be a moment where he would just burst?

It's not even about the hugs. Fuck that Noah wasn't even that pissed about that.

He was pissed Alejandro used that to make Noah shut up when he disagreed with him.

He felt as if he took his voice. It made him feel small.

He couldn't take it anymore. So blah blah angst and more heavy angst that I have no clue how to write properly. Srr!!

And then they would probably become quite begrudging of eachother as now things are quite tense.

From Alejandro's pov he didn't see no wrong in what he was doing. Maybe he might've have gone a bit overboard but- Noah allowed him. Did he just make Alejandro a fool of himself in international television?

For everyone to see? For his brother to see? For his parents?

Oh no. He can't bear that.

Did he do the same to Noah?

They're both torn at the moment. This is all my brain ranting srr if it makes no sense.

Credits to this anon, @total-drama-brainrot and they're anons awell for the inspo!

Idk what else to say!!!

#noah td #td noah #total drama #alenoah #td alejandro #alejandro/noah #owen td #hypnosis au #alenoah hug trigger au

[hbyrde36]

for @penny00dreadful

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 <-

Chapter 4: No Place Like Home

WC: 5496 | Ch 4/4 | AO3 <-

It was a surprisingly smooth landing as Steve was brought into the highest tower of the Witch’s castle through a large open window, caught in the exceptionally strong grip of the two flying monkeys who carried him there. 

Eddie had arrived the same way only a moment or two ahead of him, and was now struggling against his own guard monkey's hold, trying to get to Steve while being dragged out of one of the room’s two doors.

“It’s so kind of you both to visit me in my loneliness.” The Wicked Witch cackled, standing in the middle of the chamber next to a huge crystal ball, the image displayed within it fading before Steve could suss it out. 

“What are you gonna do with Eddie? Where are they taking him?!” Now that his feet were on solid ground, Steve tried to fight back, but couldn’t seem to shake his captors.

The Witch waved a dismissive hand. “Never you mind about that.”

“Give him back to me!” Steve raged.

“Certainly, certainly, as soon as you give me those slippers.”

Steve swallowed hard, hesitating. He knew what Eddie would probably say, that it was a terrible idea to give her even more power—to give her what she wanted. 

At his silence, she turned, addressing a few more of her little monsters that were waiting on standby around the room. “Very well. Boys?”

The flying monkey’s ears perked up. 

“Hurt him.”

Steve braced himself as The Witch’s henchman quickly moved to follow her command, but it wasn’t him they were coming for, instead they raced out the same door Eddie had just been forced through.

“No!” Steve shouted, willing to risk anything if it kept Eddie safe.  “Take the damn shoes, I don't care! Just don’t… don’t hurt him, please.”

She shot him a cruel grin, and the monkeys holding him finally let go, backing away as she stalked closer. “That’s a good boy.” 

Steve snarled, briefly considering kicking her right in her smug face as she bent down, but thought she might be less likely to let Eddie go if he did. 

Begrudgingly, he held himself still as she reached out her hands, but before she could even lay a finger on the shoes, there was a flash of light, a spark like electricity crackling, and a force lashed out to zap her. 

The Witch jumped back, hissing. “Curse you!”

“That wasn’t me! I swear!”

“No, but I should have known. My sister must have put a spell on them. They’ll never come off… as long as you’re alive.” She circled him slowly, tapping the end of her pointed chin. “Now the only question is how to do it.”

“Oh for the love of—” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just kill me if you’re going to kill me, alright? Why do you people always have to drag shit out?

“What people?”

“Bad guys!”

She huffed, straightening her cloak. “These things must be done delicately, or you hurt the spell.”

“They're always monologuing about their evil plans too. I mean, what’s up with that?” Eddie’s voice rang out from where he had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind The Witch, somehow having given his guards the slip.

She stomped her feet. “I don’t mono—” She began, then gasped, spinning around. “How did you get free?!”

Steve wracked his brain to come up with some kind of distraction, anything to keep her busy long enough for them to get away. 

“Hey, Witch!” He called out as he squatted to pick up the massive crystal ball he’d noticed on arrival, even heavier than it looked, and began to carry it towards one of the  windows. “You don’t need this for anything important, right?” 

“Put that back! It’s priceless!” she shrieked.

“It’s pretty heavy, I don’t know if i can–” Steve cut himself off, pretending to stumble, and tossed the ball as hard as he could, hoping she’d try to catch it.

She dove, and in an impressive show of strength and dexterity managed to get under the ball before it hit the ground, preventing it from breaking. She looked stunned from the fall, the weight of the crystal pinning her to the ground for the time being.

Steve made to run to Eddie’s side, but just then, the other set of doors burst open and half a dozen very tall foot soldiers in ornate uniforms, furry helmets, and with the same bright green skin as their ruler, spilled into the room, rounding on Steve and cutting them off from each other. 

“Just go!” Steve shouted.

Eddie shook his head, eyes darting from the door behind him to what he could see of Steve between the soldiers. “I’m not running away and leaving you here!”  

“Get out and find help! It's not running away if you’re coming back, right? Now— go!” 

“Damnit, Harrington.” Eddie cursed, taking a few stumbling steps towards the way out. “I am coming back.”

“I know.”

With one last tortured look Eddie took off, his pounding footsteps echoing as he ran through the hall and down what sounded like a set of stairs. Half the guards took off after him while the others remained with Steve, backing him into the wall.

Steve craned his neck, near enough to a window to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eddie’s escape and know first hand that he’d gotten away. 

“Come on, come on,” he chanted quietly to himself, even as the soldiers started trying to pull him back over to The Witch, who was unfortunately back on her feet again. The castle doors began to close as he watched, and for a second Steve thought all hope was lost, but then he spotted it—moonlight shining on dark curly hair, slipping through the opening just before the door slammed. 

Steve’s heart leapt, and he finally let himself be led back over to The Witch. No matter what else happened here, at least Eddie had made it. 

“You’ve been more trouble to me than you’re worth, brat!” 

“Heard that before.” Steve mumbled to himself. He didn’t fight as the hands on him shoved him down into a chair, figuring it was smarter to save his strength for now.

“But, it'll all be over soon,” The Witch added as she snatched a giant hourglass off a nearby shelf, flipping it over onto the table in front of him. “That’s how much longer you've got to be alive. When the sand runs out, I'll have made my preparations.”

With that, she and her soldiers left, locking both doors up tight, leaving him alone in the tower.

Steve didn’t waste time wondering why he wasn’t tied down or handcuffed, and was out of his seat in a flash. First he checked the doors because, duh, but they were, indeed, locked. He then ran back over to the window, wondering if he’d survive the drop. It didn’t seem likely—even if he did, there was no way he’d walk away from that kind of fall without needing serious medical attention, and he had yet to see a single hospital in Oz. 

His next move was to search the room for weapons, something to break the doors in, or anything he might be able to use to climb down. The curtains proved to be useless, moth bitten and too slippery to really tie together, and apart from a chair leg he managed to break off that doubled as a wooden stake, he found nothing else useful to defend himself with. 

Time passed slowly.

And yeah, Steve had been through a lot in his life, but he’d never been kidnapped before. He never would have imagined it could be this… boring? 

There was only so long you could stand at attention, waiting for your captor to come back before your eyelids started to droop. He wound up sitting at the windowsill, head resting on his arm as he gazed out at the night sky, letting his mind wander. He didn’t really believe this was the last night of his life, he’d survived too much to be taken down by some psychotic pea-soup looking bitch, but any hope he had of seeing home again was gone.

He thought back on all the time he’d wasted—squandered opportunities to tell the people he loved just how much he loved them, the number of times he blew Dustin off to go on a date with some girl he couldn’t give two shits about, all these months since Vecna with Eddie, unable to accept his own feelings, and too afraid to admit them aloud. 

He was so lost in it all that he almost didn’t hear the sound of someone pounding on one of the doors. Reasonably sure The Witch wouldn’t be knocking in her own castle, he ran to it, pressing his ear to the wood. 

“Steve?!” A muffled voice shouted from the other side. 

Eddie!

“It’s me, yes! In here!”

“Stand back, I’m going to chop through the door!”

Steve stepped back, watching in awe as the wood slowly splintered away with each blow, until finally he could see Eddie’s face through it, distantly thinking it looked like he had some sort of animal resting on his head. 

A few more chops and there was a hole big enough for Steve to squeeze through. 

Once on the other side, he saw that Eddie wasn’t alone. The Tin Woman, The Scarecrow, and The Lion were all with him—all dressed like The Witch’s soldiers.

“Costume change?” Steve asked.

“Long story.” Eddie let out a shaking breath as he tore the fuzzy hat from his head and flung it aside, managing to shrug out of his big coat just in time to catch Steve as he threw himself into the other boy’s arms. 

“I wasn’t sure I'd ever see you again.” Steve whispered with his face pressed into Eddie’s hair. 

“You didn’t think I was really coming back?”

“I knew you’d try, even if I hoped you wouldn’t.”

Eddie squeezed him tighter. “You’re such a self sacrificial ass.”

“Takes one to know one.” Steve pulled back, punching him lightly in the shoulder before turning to The Scarecrow, drawing her into a quick hug too. “I can’t believe it, you’re really okay?”

“Might be missing a little stuffing here and there but, these two did a great job getting me back in one piece.”

Their reunion was abruptly cut short by shouts in the distance.

“We gotta get out of here!” The Lion roared.

“What about the broom?” Steve said.

Eddie grabbed his hand. “She wants to kill you, Steve, fuck the broom! We’ll find some other way home.”

The group of them flew down the stairs back towards the way they’d come in. By some miracle they didn’t see a soul along the way, but as they raced across the foyer, just before they reached the exit, the doors swung closed, right in their faces.

“Going so soon?”

Steve turned at The Witch’s voice, spotting her standing on a balcony above looking down at them, laughing, as soldiers began spilling into the space from every direction. They were surrounded, though oddly none of the green men actually attacked, only approached slowly and menacingly.

“That’s right,” The Witch praised her guards. “Don’t hurt them right away, we’ll let them think about it a little first.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

Eddie raised the ax he still held, as though he would take on the entire brigade himself, but The Scarecrow snatched it out of his hand. 

“What the–” 

She swung it around, chopping and cutting a rope tied to the wall that Steve hadn’t even noticed, and sent a giant chandelier falling from the ceiling to land on a large group of the soldiers. 

“Good thinking!” Steve said, and they used the momentary distraction to flee, running up a different set of steps to get away since it was the only path that was clear. They had no idea where they were going, and up didn’t seem likely to lead out, but they had little choice now. 

The soldiers unaffected by the chandelier attack gave chase, and the five of them ran down corridor after corridor before finally spilling out onto the battlement, a part of the wall where soldiers patrol. It was a dead end and quickly they found themselves backed into a corner, soldiers on both sides, The Wicked Witch among them. 

“Well,” she sing-songed as she zeroed in on Steve, “ring around the rosie, a pocket full of spears. Thought you’d be pretty foxy didn’t you? Well the last to go will see the first four go before him.”

Eddie leaned into Steve’s side, whispering, “What the hell did she just say?”

“I have no idea.” Steve said.

“I think she’s going to kill the rest of us first and make you watch.” The Scarecrow guessed.

“Right you are, Scarecrow. So how about a little fire?” The Wicked Witch raised the head of her broom up to one of the many torches that ran along the length of the wall, lighting it.

There was no way Steve was letting her anywhere near The Scarecrow with that thing, she’d go up in seconds and unlike being disassembled he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to come back from that. He lunged for the broomstick before she could lower it, grabbing it in the middle and fighting for control. 

The next thing Steve knew he was being soaked in water like he was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest.

The fire was put out instantly, the broomstick clattering to the ground as The Witch started screaming bloody murder. 

“Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! Who would've thought two pretty-boy-brats like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness.”

It was only water—from the now empty bucket Eddie was holding that he’d found god knows where—but as though she’d been dipped in the most corrosive acid known to man, The Witch began to sizzle and smoke, and truly did melt away into a puddle on the stone floor, leaving nothing solid but her clothes behind.

“She’s dead, you killed her.” One of the soldiers blurted out.

Steve hovered, trying to shield Eddie, unsure of how this was going to play out. The witch might have been gone, but they were still sorely outnumbered if her henchman’s loyalty extended past the grave. 

But Eddie wasn’t having it. He remained in front, tilting his chin up. “Honestly, it was an accident, but she did try to kill us first, so—fair is fair.”

There was a moment of absolute silence before the entire army, monkeys included, let out a deafening cheer. “Hail to Steve and Eddie! The Wicked Witch is dead!”

Eddie looked back at him, jaw dropped, and Steve could only smile.

When the cacophony died down, Steve approached the first soldier who spoke, supposing he might be the leader or general or something. “The broomstick, can we have it?” 

“Yes, of course! Please, take it with you.”

After a short reunion with a certain stunned-to-see-them-still-alive guard, fresh off what must have been an epic frolic through the poppy field and subsequent mystical slumber—if the state of his very red and heavy lidded eyes was any indication—Steve, Eddie, and their companions once again entered The Wizard’s throne room.

“Why have you come back?!” The deep voice of the Wizard rumbled through the air.

“We did what you asked.” Steve said simply, holding the Witch’s charred broom above his head.

They all waited with bated breath for some kind of response, but were met with nothing. After a few long moments Eddie took the broomstick from Steve and stepped forward. 

“The Wicked Witch is dead, and uh, we brought you the broomstick.” He cleared his throat loudly, unceremoniously tossing the burnt bit of wood in the direction of the dais. “So, make with the wish granting, yeah?” 

“I’ll have to give the matter a little thought. Go away and come back tomorrow.” The voice eventually responded.

“Tomorrow?!” Eddie snapped.

Steve shook his head, hands balled into fists at his sides. “But we wanna go home now!”

“We did everything you asked!.” The Tin Woman argued.

“Yes! At least send them home! They deserve it after performing such a great public service!” The scarecrow added, staring defiantly up at the floating head. 

As the others jumped in to help argue their point, Eddie began to look around the room, searching, and beckoned Steve to follow him. They quickly found something odd tucked in a dark corner that seemed not only out of place, but frankly looked like an obvious control center of some sort hidden behind a green curtain. How hadn’t they noticed it before?

Together they crept closer, each grabbing one side of the cloth, and on a silent count of three…

“Do you dare to criticize the Great Oz? Think yourselves lucky that I'm giving you an audience tomorrow instead of twenty—” 

…Flung the curtain back to reveal a young girl, about their age, with red hair, a bowler hat, and an all around Molly Ringwald vibe.

“...years from now.” 

She swiveled in her chair as she finished her sentence, the words a strange mix of the booming voice they’d been hearing, and her actual voice coming through as her mouth got further from the contraption she was using to alter it.  

“Ah, shit.” The girl, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Robin’s almost-girlfriend Vickie, sighed as she spotted the two of them, realizing she’d been caught in the act.

The others came over to join the party just as Eddie got up in her face. “Who the hell are you?” 

She looked down, fingers playing with the hem of her top. “Would you believe… The Great and Powerful Oz?”

“What a scam! You’re a phony!” Steve shouted.

“I am, yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “These are all tricks I learned working with a magician at the State Fair.”

Eddie fumed. “You sent us on a suicide mission!”

“And I'm very sorry about that!” She said quickly, holding her hands up. ”In my defense, I didn't actually expect you to go after The Witch, I thought if I gave you an impossible task you would just give up and not come back. Then my reputation could stay intact.”

“I suppose this means no brain for The Scarecrow, or heart for me, or courage for The Lion?” The Tin Woman said. 

“You don’t need me for that, you already have all those things. Think about it, Tin Woman. Was it not for the love of your friends that you helped them to get here, and to defeat the Wicked Witch? Someone with no heart wouldn’t do that.”

The Wizard smiled, rising from her chair, facing The Lion next.

“And you, Lion. What, you think just because you’re afraid that makes you a coward? You still did it, you still stood by your friends. See, the trick isn’t to not be scared, it’s to be scared and do it anyway. That’s courage.”

The Wizard turned lastly to face The Scarecrow and audibly gasped, her face turning an incredibly bright shade of red. “You, um, you helped to argue your friend's cases well, and I-I think it’s quite clear that you have a-a brain.” She paused, swallowing hard. “A b-big gorgeous brain, with, just—so many thoughts. I… sorry I don't usually—”

She trailed off, completely flustered and unable to look away from The Scarecrow’s face. 

For a moment The Scarecrow looked equally entranced by the Wizard, but then she frowned, looking back at Steve and Eddie. “But, what about the boys? They want to go home.”

The Wizard bit her lip. “Well, I might have a way to get them there, but it would mean taking them myself, never to return.”

“Will you?” Eddie asked.

“Of course,” She said hesitantly, looking from him and Steve to The Scarecrow and shook her head. “I—of course. I used to live in Indiana too, y’know. I was working at the fair, like I said, and one morning the boss asked me to test the propane tanks in the hot air balloon. I didn’t know what I was doing but it seemed easy enough. Damn thing took off on me, and just never came down. I got caught in a wind storm and landed here in Oz, came up with this ruse about being a Wizard and, well, you get the idea.”

“Do you still have the balloon?” Steve asked.

She grinned. “How do you think we’re getting you home?”

-

Steve and Eddie finally leaving Oz turned out to be a grand spectacle, with every citizen wanting to thank them for ridding their lands of not one, but two Wicked Witches, in such a short span of time. Even Glinda had made the journey to see them off. 

The balloon was set up in the middle of the square, and as The Wizard checked and re-checked her equipment, Steve and Eddie set about saying their farewells.

They hugged The Tin Woman and The Lion, and while It was difficult to say goodbye to them, it was nothing to the way Steve felt about leaving The Scarecrow. He had his own Robin, his best friend, waiting for him back home, but he felt connected to this version of her almost as strongly. 

It didn’t help that he’d seen the way she and The Wizard had been looking at each other since the moment they’d met. 

“Alright boys, ready to go?” The Wizard asked, looking sad.

“No,” Steve answered, turning an apologetic look on Eddie. “I can’t. I can’t ask her to leave forever, not if…”

“It’s okay, Steve. I saw it too. I want to go home, but I feel terrible.”

“Maybe Glinda can help?” Steve said.

One mention of her name and suddenly The Good Witch was right beside them, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “You don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Hawkins.”

Steve blinked at her. “I have?”

“Then why didn't you tell him that before?!” The Scarecrow asked. 

“Because, Steve had a few things he needed to figure out first. Isn’t that right?”

Steve gulped, giving her wide eyes.

“I don’t get it.” The Lion said. 

The Tin Woman shushed him, patting his hand. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

Eddie tilted his head. “What does she mean, Steve?”

“Well, I-I.” Steve stammered, eyes darting between Glinda and Eddie.

The Good Witch smiled, nodding encouragingly. “If you are ready to accept the truth, those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.”

Steve but his lip. “Eddie too?”

Glinda laughed, high and bright. “Of course, Eddie too. Now stand together, and facing each other.”

They did what she asked, and while he remained quiet, Eddie was giving him that curious look again. 

“What do I have to do, are there, like, magic words?” Steve asked.

“There are lots of magic words, Steve, but to get home you need only close your eyes, tap your heels together three times, and show the truth that is in your heart.

There was only one way Steve could think of to show the truth, so…

He took a deep breath, closed the space between him and Eddie, and crashed their lips together. His eyes fell shut as Eddie kissed back, melting into it—and as Eddie threaded gentle fingers through his hair, Steve clicked his heels together, three times.

-

“Steve?”

Eddie’s voice rolled over him out of the dark, tinged with concern. 

Steve groaned, disoriented, his neck aching from the angle it was at, and he could feel a bit of drool drying on his chin. 

“Stevie, wake up.” This time Eddie gently shook his shoulder, and Steve’s head snapped up, eyes popping open wide. He looked around wildly, confused to find that he was slumped in a chair behind the desk at Family Video—but it didn’t matter where they’d landed, he supposed, the shoes had worked, they were back!

“Did he fall asleep again?” Robin’s voice called out from directly behind, and Steve spun around so fast he knocked his chair over, which in turn knocked over a small stack of tapes.

He ignored the mess, pulling her into a tight hug. It was really her! No straw, no burlap, just a sweatshirt she’d stolen from his closet two nights ago, with her work vest over the top. 

She shook her head like he was an idiot, but hugged him back anyway before letting go to set the chair back on its legs. “I was only in the back rewinding returns for half an hour!”

“Oh,” Steve breathed, finally registering what she’d first said, and felt suddenly lost. He could have sworn it was real, but Robin wasn’t freaking out the way he knew she would have if he’d disappeared for an entire night and day…

Or was it two? 

The more he thought about it the less sure he was of how long he and Eddie had been stuck in that colorful other dimension. 

If—if he had been stuck in another dimension. 

Robin said he’d been asleep, and he was just slumped in his chair at the desk at the end of his shift, and there Eddie was, right in front of him looking amused, if a little worried, and… and wearing a completely different shirt than he’d had on as they trekked through—

Oh.

Eddie, who was here to pick him up for their hang out because Robin was borrowing his car.

Steve groaned again, rubbed his temples. “I had such a weird dream.” 

“Was it a nightmare?” Robin asked.

It was a fair question, and something they all experienced from time to time even this many months out from their final dealings with the Upside Down. But this…this had been something wholly different.

“I’m not sure.” He settled on, yawning as he fought to think through the fog that was slowly lifting from his brain. Had it really all been in his head? A dream, a fantasy?

“Some of it wasn't very nice, but—” He glanced at Eddie again and felt a blush spread over his face. “Most of it was beautiful.”

“You were there.” Steve continued, giving the other boy a little nod. Eddie’s lips twitched into a crooked smile. 

Steve turned to Robin next.  “You were too—and Nancy, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and—” he trailed off, trying to remember everyone else he’d encountered along the way.

Eddie chuckled. “Did Robin make you watch The Wizard of Oz on repeat again?”

Steve froze.

Oz, yellow brick road, Munchkins…

He was such an idiot.

“It was slow this morning!” Robin lashed out, defensively. And you know I’m seeing Vickie tonight, I needed my comfort movie to settle my nerves!”

“Yes, I am well aware of your impending date, Buckley, hence me and my van being here to play chauffeur.”

Steve checked the time, he still had about fifteen minutes until he could officially lock up and clock out. “You’re early.”

Eddie shrugged. “I still have to pick us a movie for tonight. You go do your closing duties, or whatever, I'll be perusing the stacks.” 

Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away as Eddie walked off. He could still remember the other boy’s fingers pushing into his hair, gently cradling his head as they’d kissed—how his lips had felt so incredibly soft.

He wondered if it would be the same in real life.

“Steve… did you OD over there?” 

Steve startled as, once again, Robin's voice came from directly behind him, though much softer this time. He took her hand, pulling her to the other side of the room. 

“Do you remember that thing we talked about?”

She scrunched her nose. “Which thing?”

Steve sighed, speaking low. “You know, the… how some people go both ways, thing?”

She gasped, grabbing his arm, and looked back over her shoulder to where Eddie was still browsing, before whispering, “Do you mean…?”

Steve nodded, unable to stop his mouth from spreading into a wide grin.

“Are you gonna tell him tonight?!”

“Yeah, I think so.” Steve bit his lip. “Well, that, or maybe just stick my tongue down his throat the second we’re alone.”

Robin snorted. “And they say romance is dead.” 

“Okay smart-ass, how do you think I should go about it?”

“I think—it doesn’t matter what you say or do, because that boy is just as crazy about you as you are about him.”

“I hope so.” Steve looked down, wringing his hands. “I really like him. I-I might even–” He trailed off, too afraid to finish the thought even though he knew it was the truth.

“I know, dingus.”

At the other end of the store, tape in hand, Eddie began to make his way to the counter.

Robin gave Steve a little push towards the break room door. “You go splash some water on your face and change. I'll get your man checked out.”

“Not mine yet.”

“He will be. I’m proud of you, Steve.”

“Thanks, Robbie.”

As much as he’d joked to Robin about just going for it, Steve spent the whole drive to the new Munson trailer trying to compose the perfect speech to tell Eddie how he felt, but by the time they arrived he had nothing to show for his efforts but sweaty palms and anxiety.

Should he have just reached over the center console, taken Eddie’s hand, and hoped he got the hint? Maybe he shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. No, no. Steve was supposed to be good at this! Eddie deserved more, he deserved the perfect moment. 

“You, uh, planning on coming inside?”

Steve sucked in a breath, snapping to attention, and realized Eddie had already gotten out of the van and come around to open the passenger door.

“Sorry.” Steve’s face grew hot as he climbed out of the van. “Guess I'm still feeling a little out of it from falling asleep earlier.”

Eddie frowned, reaching up to feel Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Are you sure that’s all? You do feel a little warm.”

“I’m fine.” Steve ducked his head, throwing off the touch, though what he really wanted was to lean into it, and followed Eddie inside.

Eddie went right for the kitchen, throwing the bag from Family Video bag on the counter before diving into the fridge, digging out two beers.

Steve tried hard not to stare as Eddie bent over, reaching for the bag for something to do instead, and pulled the single tape out, flipping it over to the cover. 

“Seriously? Return to Oz?”

Eddie turned, grinning as he took a sip from his own bottle, sliding the other one towards him. “Come on, that's funny!” 

Steve huffed a laugh and tossed the tape back onto the counter.

“And, y’know… it’s a good movie.” Eddie went on, grin slipping a little as he set his beer down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away—looking nervous, Steve realized. He realized something else too—there was never going to be a perfect time, or a perfect way to say what was in his heart. He knew how he felt, and he was pretty sure he knew how Eddie felt now too, or at least his subconscious did. Now he just needed to take that leap of faith.

“I know you don’t really like all the horror stuff me and the kids usually make you watch, and since it’s just the two of us I figured—” 

In the middle of Eddie’s adorably flustered ramble Steve stepped around the kitchen counter, took the other boy’s face gently between his hands, and crushed their mouths together.

Eddie went very still under his touch and Steve quickly pulled back, panicked for a moment that he had it all wrong, until Eddie wound his arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt as he pressed him into the counter, and suddenly Steve was the one being kissed.  

And what a kiss it was.

At the first brush of tongue Steve smiled into it, unable to contain his joy because Eddie had kissed him back! 

When they finally pulled apart again, Eddie blinked hard, looking dazed. “Shit, Steve, am I–am I dreaming right now?”

“God I hope not.” Steve went right back in, winding his hands into Eddie’s hair as their lips met again and again, their bottles of beer forgotten, left to grow warm on the counter. 

-

Later that night, when the movie was over—not that they’d seen much of it—after they’d actually talked and made their relationship official, and made out so much that Steve’s lips were sore, they curled up in Eddie’s bed together. 

As he burrowed deeper into Eddie’s side, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him even tighter, Steve let out a contented sigh. 

Dorothy had it right—there really is no place like home.

Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!

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