#// i think there's plenty to work with as is so i hope some of you enjoy this!

[seramilla]

I ended up binging all your posts about Vaggie being related to the Carmine's and ended up having a dream about all the wedding prep, including Carmilla actually meeting Charlie and thanking her for loving and helping Vaggie heal and grow from her time as an exorcist

I'm sorry, but this gave me ideas, so have some fluff instead of angst on this goddamn page for once.

Charlie Morningstar paces back and forth outside Carmine Industries for several minutes before she even thinks about touching the buzzer. A myriad of thoughts race through her mind as she steels herself for what she came here to do. Vaggie is distracted, back at the hotel helping Alastor with some kind of workshop or other for their guests. She has at least an hour until her presence is needed again -- plenty of time, she hopes, for a meeting with Carmilla Carmine.

Ultimately, it's not her who buzzes herself in, but one of the other Carmine girls. Charlie literally falls over in surprise as the metal door clanks open, but she manages to right herself before face-planting on the concrete outside. Odette, if memory serves, is standing there with a confused expression on her face, cocking an eyebrow at her and turning her head 30 degrees like a curious puppy. Charlie clears her throat, blushing profusely at her almost-fumble.

"Od-Odette! Hello! Did I get that right? Um, yeah, hi! I'm here to see Carm--Ms. Carmine. Is she home--at work--do you live or work here? I guess I don't know. I'm sorry, that's a dumb question, I just--!"

Odette chuckles. "She's here. Are you looking for an audience with her?"

Charlie lets out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yes! Ma'am! Yes, ma'am! Oh, I'm sorry, do you mind if I call you ma'am? Is that weird? Should I call you something else?"

Odette chuckles again. "Odette is fine. No need for any formalities, your highness. You know you're welcome here. Follow me."

"Thank you so much! I'm coming!"

Charlie talks Odette's ears off the entire time they're walking toward Carmilla's office. Up a huge flight of stairs, around a corner, and all the way down a long hallway, Odette is given a crash course on all the current events happening at the Hazbin Hotel. She could probably give a lecture on the topic, given how good Charlie has gotten at really drilling home all the highlights of her redemption program.

When they finally stop in front of Carmilla's office, Odette gives Charlie's hand a firm shake, saying, "It's been a pleasure, Miss Morningstar. Now I must return to my tasks for the day." Then, without another word, she's gone again.

Charlie pauses at the ornate door leading to Carmilla's office. It's tall, and imposing. She's the princess of Hell, goddamn it! Something like this should be super simple for a daughter of Lucifer Morningstar!

Shaking all her misgivings out of her head, she says to herself, "Right! Let's do this!" before knocking firmly on the door three times. After a moment, a muffled yet prominent, "Come in!" reaches her from the other side. Taking another deep breath, Charlie opens the door, and steps inside.

Carmilla Carmine is at her desk, working away at a stack of files and papers that are practically as tall as Charlie is. Other stacks, she assumes the finished ones, are scattered in boxes around the floor at Carmilla's feet. Charlie doesn't even begin to know where to look -- the office is so busy. Instead, she ignores it, and smiles at Carmilla when the other woman's gaze meets hers.

"Charlotte!" Carmilla says, a happy lilt to her voice. She immediately stands and greets the princess with open arms. One of the privileges of dating the daughter of Carmilla Carmine is she's often privy to the woman's more maternal side. A notion that is quite welcome, as far as Charlie is concerned. It's nice, feeling that kind of maternal love again -- it's been so absent from her own life since her mother...left all those years ago.

"It's so nice to see you, Charlotte. Please, have a seat. What do I owe the pleasure of your company today?"

Carmilla gestures Charlie over to the plush couches on the opposite side of her office. The furniture has been upgraded since the last time she's been here. Charlie obliges and takes a seat. Carmilla joins her.

Charlie debates whether to break through her own misgivings with small talk, but decides better of it. She came here with a purpose today; she only has so much time before she's needed back at the hotel, so she decides to just get to the business at hand.

"Well," Charlie starts, immediately fumbling all the words she'd so diligently practiced earlier. That's so like her. But she won't be deterred! She grips the fabric of her pants tightly in both fists and continues.

"As you know, Vaggie and I are coming up on our 5-year anniversary in a few months. It's a big milestone for us, and I wanted to do something really special for her..."

Charlie pauses, waiting to see if Carmilla will interject. The older woman is as poised and stoic as ever, waiting patiently for Charlie to continue. Charlie wishes she could better gauge what the woman is thinking at the moment...but it can't be helped. Charlie's not a mind reader. Nowhere else to go now, but forward!

"...Anyway...um...what I came here to do today was...uhh...oh, fuck, why is this so hard?"

"Take a breath, Charlotte. It's okay."

That definitely is not helping Charlie's nervousness at all, being reminded to breathe, like she doesn't have two perfectly capable lungs, all her own. Carmilla is still looking at her with that face, like everything is fine. How does she know it's fine? She doesn't even know what Charlie's going to say!

Breathe, Charlie!

"God, okay. Hoooo boy. Carmilla. I came here today to ask...to tell you...that I love Vaggie very much. More than anything in the world. My life was not complete until she literally fell into it, and every day since then has been more rich, more fulfilling, and more full of joy than I can ever put into words. I'm telling you this because I'm going to...I want your blessing when I... I'mgoingtoaskhertomarrymeandIwantyoutotellmeit'sokay! Okay?"

The last part comes out of Charlie's mouth in a flurry of words. She lets out a sigh of relief, thankful she was able to get it out. She hopes Carmilla had understood her. Thankfully, the sparkle in Carmilla's eyes tells her that she has, and so much more. Before she can even protest, Carmilla pulls Charlie into a hug that's so tight, her spine nearly bows from the force of it.

Shit, this overlord's strength is nothing to sneeze at.

"You don't need my permission, Charlotte," Carmilla says, squeezing Charlie even harder around the waist. Charlie squeaks.

"I...I don't?"

"Of course not. You're already family. And Vaggie's a big girl. She can make her own decisions. But if you want my blessing...then of course you have it. I can never repay you for protecting her, loving, her, and watching over her when I couldn't. I would love nothing more than to welcome you into our family...officially."

"You, too!" Charlie says, not wanting to diminish the other woman's contribution to Vaggie's healing process. "Also, I almost asked my dad if he would do it, but...I want you to be the one to walk her down the aisle, if she says yes! I know she would want that!"

Carmilla can't hide the fact that she's the one crying now. Charlie sees her trying to hide the tears behind the hand in front of her face, but the cracks are breaking around the older woman's facade like a dam trying to overrun its banks. She smiles at Charlie, and nods.

"Of course I will. I would love nothing more than to give my girl away to you."

Charlie can't wait for the day she can pop the question to the love of her life. She's already bought the ring, got the date planned with Asmodeus, and booked an opulent night full of food, dancing, and every other pleasantry the Lust ring has to offer. She vows to make it the best night of Vaggie's life, second only to their wedding day, if she accepts Charlie's proposal.

Beyond that, all Charlie can see is happiness. She never dreamed as much for herself. But it's so close, she can almost grasp it. She leaves Carmilla's that day feeling more light and airy than she has in a while, and more full of conviction that she has the strength to see this through.

She deserves it. Vaggie deserves it. Carmilla deserves it. Her heart is so full of love and raw tenderness, she could practically burst.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #carmilla carmine #odette hazbin hotel #chaggie #ask #anon #fan theories #lucifer morningstar #helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #vaggie carmilla related au

[carlos-in-glasses]

I'm having some thoughts and feelings, for reasons.

The feelings are that I'm so grateful for this beautiful fandom and the beautiful couple in the picture above. The thoughts are beneath the read more and can be taken or left. The picture cannot be left, however. Taken is the only option. You need to see it because look how cute they are!

For prosperity:

Something I always 'explore', if you will, in my own writing is how people process the concept of time. Endings, beginnings, the past and the future linking up. Your past self always being with you like a spectre. The present feeling like a marble rolling around a tube... I think this is because I'm not good with change or saying goodbye, but I do know that endings always lead to something else. Which is scary, because you don't necessarily know what that will bring.

Thinking about all of the above in terms of Lone Star is a different beast for me personally, because I've never had this kind of experience with a show or characters before, where I'm so compelled by it that I found my way into the fandom and have been creatively stimulated to the point of writing 25+ fics for it (which isn't nearly as many as others have produced! But to me it feels significant). So for that reason I want to say: When the show ends -(WHENEVER THAT MAY BE) - the characters don't. They don't end, not really. As long as we choose to keep talking about the themes, sharing meta posts, writing them or drawing them or creating gif sets, and revisiting them in rewatches or YouTube clips - there they are. Always. Either suspended in their moment and so easy to revisit in all their glory, or put in new situations in fic and art even years into the future. If this hiatus has taught us anything, it's that even without the show on air, there are still plenty of stories to tell and interpretations to be had, based on what came before. When the show ends, the thing that will unfortunately go is the speculation aspect, but what we have instead is a beautiful completed work that can inspire and be meaningful forever to those who already love it and for those who will find it in the future - and it will be found. Anything that exists can be found. (See: deep sea fish that glow in the dark (!)). And things that don't exist can be imagined.

We're so lucky to be the ones in the know when it comes to the show and to Tarlos. We know how special it is, what a gift it is. I'm not a spiritual person but I do feel oddly spiritual when it comes to this. Idk.

Something I've always hoped (as I'm sure we all have) is that we would know ahead of time that it's over. The show not being renewed between seasons is a thought that horrifies me to my core. I remember thinking towards the end of season 4: "At least if it doesn't get renewed, it ends with Tarlos being canon-married." Which, as a Tarlos super-fan, was my no.1. concern, but I love and care about the other characters too of course.

Going into season 5 and fearing it could be the last season, I had a huge tummy ache wondering if Tarlos would be on the rocks. If they ended on a cliffhanger having assumed season 6 was on the cards, we'd never get a resolution. But Rafa's Cameos have really eased my mind in that regard. Based not only on the tiny amount he's given away, but the way he talks about them loving each other, it sounds like they're going to be okay - and we're going to see it for ourselves that Tarlos really is endgame. In a time when hope is needed, we do have this. AND we have each other! As long as Tarlos ends happy, I for one intend to keep dancing, even if it means I'm the eccentric up on the table on my own doing the robot. But I would always like others to dance with.

Whatever happens, which we don't officially know yet, we can get through it together.

#Cig personal #❤️ #Tarlos

[eregyrn-falls]

Gravity Falls Revival Prospects Teased by Disney TV Boss (Exclusive)

By Russ Milheim Posted: June 05, 2024

(From "The Direct", original article linked above.) While Gravity Falls may have ended in 2014 on the Disney Channel, fans are still hoping for a revival—thankfully, that doesn't look too far out of reach, at least according to an update from a top Disney executive. The series may have ended in 2014, but since then, creator Alex Hirsch has published several books in the universe. This included Gravity Falls: Tales of the Strange and Unexplained, Lost Legends, and Journal 3. In fact, another book is even coming out later this year, called The Book of Bill, which tells the story of the show from the perspective of the big bad. However, while books are great and all, a continuation of the show would absolutely thrill the franchise’s fanbase. In an exclusive interview with The Direct’s Russ Milheim while promoting the release of Big City Greens the Movie: Spacecation, Executive Vice President of Television Animation and Disney Branded Television Meredith Roberts gave a hopeful update on a possible Gravity Falls revival. She confirmed that they’re “in conversations with [creator] Alex [Hirsch]” before ending with an encouraging “never say never:” “You know, we're in conversations with Alex. He's about to publish a book with Disney on his project. And we also do some shorts. So never say never.”

What Could Be Next for Gravity Falls? While the update is a small one, plenty of fans will be thrilled to see even a slight glimmer of home. Sure, the new book releases are exciting, but not nearly as much as having the show back. If the show were to return, creator Alex Hirsch would likely want to introduce a new threat other than Bill. Admittedly, that's a high bar to clear. Perhaps a continuation would also age its leading characters, Dipper and Mabel. However, having older leads could transform Gravity Falls into a much different, more adult-based narrative. Either way, there's plenty of demand from fans to see the world of Gravity Falls again. Hopefully, that's something Disney can capitalize on sooner rather than later.

Since this is going around, and I haven't seen it posted here... well, here you go. What does it mean? Nobody knows! It may not mean anything. It's hard to tell whether this is just a Disney exec making noises for promotional purposes or what. I honestly would take this with a grain of salt until or unless Alex himself posts or tweets about it.

(My own thoughts: to be worthwhile, I strongly feel that any new Gravity Falls content would need to have the involvement of Alex Hirsch AND a good chunk of the other folks who worked on the show. People like Rob Renzetti, and others like Matt Braly, Alonso Ramirez Ramos, Emmy Ciceriega, Dana Terrace, Matt Chapman, Jeff Rowe, etc. etc. It would probably be difficult to impossible to get everyone back, unless it was for a very limited project, like a TV-movie or something.

I'm not saying they would ALL need to be back, and I do also think you could find some new folks to work on the project who would be very good replacements for some of the original crew who might not be able to come back. But, I've said many, many times: Gravity Falls was not the work of only one man. I respect the hell out of Alex Hirsch, but, the show that we love had contributions from a lot of other people that went into creating the final product. If what we want is something as good as the original show, then I think it would need input from those people.

And even then, we still have to keep in mind that it can be difficult to recapture lightning in a bottle. Even if they got back a majority of the original team, it's 10 years later (ish), and all of those folks have been through a lot, and most haven't been working with each other. There's a groove that the crew of the show got into at the time, and they'd have to recapture that groove. It would be different in at least SOME ways. Maybe a GOOD different! A lot would depend on the enthusiasm they had for doing it.)

So, we'll see! Keep an eye out, though, for more news.

#gravity falls #alex hirsch #disney

[ghouljams]

Here's Hoping Things Look Better On the Other Side Chapter 1: The Cowboy Rating: E (minors please do not interact) Words: 6k Tags: Ghost x f!reader/OC, fingering, unprotected piv sex, oral (m and f receiving), deep throating, soft sex, face riding, dangerous driving practices, one night stands, first meeting, dom!Ghost, flirting Summary: You decide to spend you last night of freedom before saddling yourself with farm work, saddling up on something else. You know what they say: Save a horse, ride a cowboy. a/n: happy 1 year anniversary to this blog, as a mark of this occasion I'm doing what I kept talking about but never had the courage for and posting the "official" Cowboy Ghost story, or at least the first chapter. If some of this looks familiar, it's because a lot of my initial posts in the au were straight from this draft

Thank you @ethereal-night-fairy for giving this a once over, you're the best ❤️

There’s plenty about small towns that you miss living in the big city. The lack of bars is not one of those things. At least your friends don’t seem to be complaining. Anything to take the edge off the hours you’d spent in the car. One of the girls laughs pushing at another’s arm, the table is littered with empty shot glasses and half drunk beers. You glance back at the room over your shoulder, eyes darting to find a tray you could pile some of this on to make the bartender’s life easier. It’s dimly lit, as all dives are, and may as well have a sign hung up boasting about how flammable it is with all the wood in here. Wood tables and chairs, wood bar, wood floor, wood walls, you wouldn’t be surprised if the mirror over the back of the bar was wood too.

Still, you’re happy to be home. You miss small town living, miss the farm. You’ve been an accountant long enough, lost the calluses on your hands and you’re ready to dive back in. You’ll have to report to your daddy’s ranch earlier than the sun once morning rears its ugly head. You may as well have some fun, enjoy your last night of freedom before breaking your back breaking horses. And lucky you it’s the start of planting season, plenty of fresh blood in the water.

It’s good timing really. You know everyone in town too well, and the last thing you need is for word to get back to your daddy that you slept with the McKennan boy or worse. No, seasonal help is the best choice for a one night stand. No one you know that knows you(or your father). You glance around the bar, plenty of faces you don’t recognize. No one interesting though. No one that seems like they’d give you anything good. Mackayla already has a hat fixed square on her head, a cowboy coo-ing at her like she’s the luckiest girl in the bar.

Your eyes hit the man hunched against the bar. An unfamiliar face, a dark black hat, and denim stretched tight over his thick thighs. He’s got a good build, broad shoulders, thick fingers that dwarf the long neck in his hand, biceps you could sink your teeth into… You can’t see his face, but there’s an air about him that screams “leave me alone”. That plus the way he keeps to himself says he doesn’t know anyone or care to. Perfect. You toss the last of your bourbon back and toss a few bucks on the table.

“I’m gonna snag a cowboy,” You tell your friends, “Don’t wait up.”

You earn a few thumbs ups, a whistle and a “get it” that makes you laugh, before turning to snag the spot next to your man in black at the bar. You lean against the bar to catch his eye, standing close as you push your chest out, and tip your head. They’re brown, you think, warm like liquor and kept steadfastly forward. Must be having a staring contest with his own reflection. There’s a mask too. A black swath of fabric with a jaw bone painted onto it covering half his face. That explains why you couldn’t get a good look at him across the bar.

“So-” You start, only to be cut off.

Your cowboy holds up a twenty neatly folded between his fingers without even looking at you, "How much is it gonna cost to get you to leave me alone?" He asks, the bass rumble of his voice making you all the more sure of your decision. You glance from the skeletal mask to the black Stetson tipped low over his eyes.

"The hat."

"Not for sale."

“Not even just for tonight?” You ask, feeling buzzed and bold as you lean against the bar. There’s the slightest turn of his head as he looks at you. The warm brown of his eye as it peaks from under the shadow of his brim hits you better than any shot could. His gaze drags over you, and you let it, feeling his eyes settle on the way you push your tits out, then trace down over your hip. Your skin prickles with warmth, your stomach fluttering excitedly. He drags those lovely brown eyes back to meet yours and hums, looking back at the mirror.

“How about a drink,” He says, motioning for the bartender.

“How about two,” You grin, his mask shifts, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges, “What are you drinking?”

“Piss,” He says, pushing his mask up enough to get a swallow of his beer. He’s funny in a dry sort of way, you’d laugh if you weren’t so entranced by his lips against the bottle. You rip your eyes off him when he pulls the mask back into place. You gotta get this man a decent drink. You press up onto your toes to lean across the bar and talk to the bartender.

“Are the Sisters still making hooch?” You ask, the tender nods and grabs two shot glasses for you. You settle back on your feet, feeling the pleasant weight of your companion’s gaze dragging over you. You wait as the glasses are filled with 2oz of the only thing you missed on the coast. Well, maybe not the only thing. A glass of crystal moonshine is set in front of each of you. Your cowboy’s fingers pinch around the sides of the shot, his hand dwarfing the glass as his other hand tugs at his mask. You both tap your shots to the bar before throwing them back. You shake your head at the burn as he lets out a cough.

“Oh that is dead,” He says, lord his voice is so thick when it’s pleased. Rumbling nicely in his throat, you’re desperate to see what it tastes like.

“So,” You draw his eyes back to your face with just one word, “What’s a Manchester boy doing in this shithole?”

He lets out a breath through his teeth, flicking the brim of his hat back to get a better look at you. His eyes make you warm all over in a way that alcohol never could. “Manchester, huh-” He motions for another shot, “You even know where that is, Princess?”

Oh the way he says it, so deep and condescending, but inquisitive, makes a shiver run down your spine. You’d do anything to hear him call you that again. Including answering his question with the minimum amount of sass.

“North of Birmingham, west of Sheffield. Do you need my footie team too before you to take me home?” You smile, tapping your refilled shot against his before downing it. His fingers hesitate on his glass as he looks at you, eyes following your tongue as you lick the last drop of moonshine off your lips. 

He reaches up and takes off his hat, settling it on your head. It’s big and warm, and sits just a little too low on you, but you don’t care, it’s his. His claim on you. He takes his shot clean, pulling his mask back up as he tosses far too much cash on the bar and grabs your hand. 

You barely get to his truck before you’re pressed against it, his hands gripping your face as he presses his lips to yours. Too eager to remember he’s gotta pull his mask off first apparently. It’s warm and cotton-y. Not that you mind. You laugh, feeling bubbly from the moonshine, as he growls and rips his mask off before kissing you again.

And oh, he’s good with his mouth. You can tell by the slide of his lips, the way he holds your face just the way he wants to. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you open eagerly for him, letting him taste the cheap sugary booze you’d been sipping before you saw him. He licks into your mouth, skimming your teeth before twisting his tongue against yours in a way that makes you shiver. His mouth is warm and wet, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. You want to hear that sound for the rest of your life. He tips your head back and back, his hat held to your head by the closed cab door as he crowds you against his truck forcing you to take everything he gives you. 

Your chest is warm and you can feel your blood pumping want through to your fingertips as you twist them into his shirt. You want to be drunk on him, want to feel your head spin as your thoughts turn to cotton. You think this is the best decision you’ve ever made. Especially when his hands leave your face to grab your hips, his leg wedged between yours. He drags your hips to grind against his thigh, all hard muscle and oh you can feel him. The hard line of his cock just at the apex of your movements. It makes all your heat drop to pool between your legs. Mm, he was absolutely a good decision.

“What am I screaming for you?” You murmur, between kisses, desperate to know your cowboy’s name. 

“Simon,” He tells you, ducking to mouth at your neck. “Simon,” he says it again, bites it into your skin, like he’s reminding himself.

“Simon,” you sigh, enjoying the way saying his name makes his hold on you tighten.

He works your hips against his thigh, his lips sucking at your neck before his teeth dig into the blooming bruises. There’s something animal and desperate in his movements, something that speaks to a man who hasn’t had a woman in a long time. Good. You want all that pent up stress, all the need, that he can muster. You make a soft noise at the twitch of your hips, the tingle of need in your own body starting to soak your panties. It’s only when you start to feel that same wetness soaking the denim scraping your thighs that Simon pulls away.

“You drive stick?” He asks, the warmth of his iris consumed by dark black. You tip your head, pull him back to brush his lips against yours. You want him to keep kissing you, his lips just on the right side of chapped and his tongue exploratory. You hold onto his face until he grabs your wrists and pulls you off. “Manual, Princess. Want you in my bed before I fuck ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmur, eyes fixed on his mouth, “I can drive stick.”

Simon pulls you away from where you’ve been plastered against the truck cab and opens the door. You squeak when he picks you up and sets you on the seat. Your eyes dart to the wet patch on his jeans, then to check out his ass when he leans down to grab his mask off the gravel. Damn.

You pull your door closed as Simon pulls himself into the driver's side of the cab, turning the ignition and switching gears. You always liked the click of the gear shift, but now the engine thrums in your blood, a heady promise of what’s to come. Simon grabs your hand from where it’s settled on your thigh to hold it under his on the gear shift. He shifts up a gear, then drops his hand to your thigh. His hand is big and warm, a bear’s paw gripping your leg, digging his fingers into your skin. You’re glad Amanda convinced you to wear a skirt.

“You shift when I tell you, alrigh’?” Simon asks, one hand sliding under the edge of your skirt as the other turns the wheel to leave the bar's parking lot. You nod quickly, your fingers tight on the stick shift as his skate across the edge of your panties. One thick finger tip drags along your sopping slit, feeling you through your underwear. He gives you the next gear and you pull the shift with a shaky hand, rushing to accommodate him, to show how well you follow directions(to not get the both of you killed if the engine stalls). His fingers don’t move, giving you space as you shift in your seat.

It’s different when you lean back against the seat again. His fingers press against you properly, teasing you through your panties with his thumb against your clit. The feeling of cotton against the sensitive bud, wet and cool from the night air, makes you whine, and push your hips towards his touch. Simon chuckles from the driver’s seat and you feel a wave of heat rush over you.

“Spread your legs love,” He orders, you’re quick to comply, going a step further to shuck your panties so he can touch you properly. After all, you’ve never been one to disregard an order that directly benefits you. Simon’s fingers touch you, spread your sticky slick folds with a pleased noise. He’s got calluses, you can feel the rough edges of them as he drags his fingers over you, and you follow the motion with a slight raise of your hips. “Eager thing, aren’t you?” Simon rumbles, you glance at him, at his lap. As if he’s one to talk.

His cock must be aching from pressing against his zipper like that. He says something you don’t hear, too busy trying to measure his bulge with your eyes. He smacks his fingers against your slit and you jerk your attention back to him. Shift down. Shift down, you can do that. You know how to do that. 

Your clit tingles when his fingers find it, still aching from the smack and desperate for attention. Simon rolls it between his fingers, pinching it enough to be felt before rubbing at it. Then he’s up and down your slit, spreading your slick as it drools from your pussy, lubing his fingers to keep toying with you. You try to keep your mind on his words, try to keep your brain from giving in to the feeling of it. He doesn’t stop rubbing just because you need to shift gears, and it drives you mad.

One thick fingers pushes into your cunt and you whine. Your toes curl as you try to force yourself down against the shallow thrusts he pumps in and out of you. The drag of his callused finger against your walls warms in the pit of your stomach. It’s more than your finger’s ever been but it’s still not enough. You want to feel the stretch of him, you’re sure you’ll need it. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit, your hips following the feeling. He pulls away just enough to add a second finger and you moan. 

The stretch is divine. Friction heat tugging at your entrance, pushing warmth through you with every pump. You do your best to fuck yourself on your cowboy’s fingers as the slick noise fills the cab of the truck. Your breathing is heavy, your whines turned to whimpers. He gives you just enough to make you eager for more. His fingers are slow and dutiful as they thrust into you, keeping you alert for his next command.

You try to reach for his cock, your fingers digging at his belt buckle. Only to have his fingers leave you, his firm hand wrapping around your wrist to put it back on the gear shift.

“Gotta be patient, Princess,” He tells you, “you want somethin’ you ask for it.”

Your fingers tighten, and you spread your legs a little wider. “Make me come,” You tell him, because you don’t think he can do it at this angle, with his eyes on the road.

“Good girl.” The praise shoots through you like lightening, your nerves on fire when his fingers push back into you. Slow and steady is gone, replaced by a pace that makes your head spin. Simon’s fingers curl, hitting the soft spongy spot near your entrance until you’re seeing stars. There’s a tightness in your belly, and a heat that washes over your cunt. He keeps his attention on your hole, your tingling clit ignored in favor of punishing your cunt for your attitude. 

He doesn’t let up when he asks you to down shift. Your brain mush, your hips squirming as your muscles try to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing. You barely manage to get down to the next gear before you’re consumed by the raging heat and tightness his fingers fuck into you. Your whimpers are full blown moans, his name on your lips as you attempt to find the brain cells to beg for him to let you come. It’s all too much, too tight. You can hear the wet squelch of his fingers louder than the blood rushing in your ears, louder than the rumble of the engine.

You feel wet, something dribbling over your cunt, as your head tips back to account for your eyes rolling. Your back arches and all your muscles shudder as Simon’s fingers work you through the slip-splash of wetness. He only slows enough for you to get your bearings. Just enough for you to take in the wetness on the dashboard and soaking the fingers he raises to your mouth. Another downshift, your eyes fixed on him more than the scenery, your tongue swirling around his fingers. 

Simon’s fingers leave your mouth to settle over your hand on the gear shift as you hit a gravel road. It’s so dark out, you could be anywhere, but Simon promised you a bed, and you don’t think a murderer would make you come before killing you. The truck is thrown into park, the engine switched off, your brain catches up just in time for Simon to open your door and pull you out. You’re tugged into a little house, and almost as quickly as the door is closed behind you, you’re set on your knees.

It’s dark in here too, but you can hear the rustle of denim, the groan of a man freeing his hard cock. You know your eyes will adjust, you’re already starting to make out the shadows of moonlight streaming in through the window, but you’re dying to see the monster you’d seen straining against his jeans. Simon’s hand finds your cheek, cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes your lower lip.

“Open your mouth love,” He murmurs, “Lemme feel your tongue.”

You follow his command too eagerly. His shadow leans over you, huge in the darkness, and his tongue drags against yours before he pulls back and spits on it. Your breath stops short, your stomach flipping as it starts to kindle a new heat. Simon’s cock slaps against your tongue. It feels heavy, uncut, the skin soft and salty. He drags it over your tongue, barely dipping into your waiting mouth, lubing himself on his own spit. Your head goes a little fuzzy at the thought. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, your cunt aching between your legs. As if he didn’t just get you off all over his truck.

It’s worth a little embarrassment for the way Simon groans at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. He’s heavy on your tongue, weight against your jaw as he feeds you his cock. Inch by inch, so slow you can drag your tongue over the veins that thrum under his skin. Just the taste of him makes you want to buck your hips, and you reach to settle your hands on his thighs when he hits your gag reflex. 

He stills, your fingers digging into muscle and coarse hair. You take steadying breaths through your nose before pushing your head down again. Something bright and ringing like a bell in your head is desperate to know where he stops, to feel him stretching out your throat. You have to swallow, shake your head to find the spot that doesn’t make you gag, not that Simon seems to mind. You think he likes when you pull back, gasping, so you can spit on his fat length and try again. Sucking and bobbing your head as you take him deeper and deeper is the least you can do for this man. That doesn’t mean you don’t feel a swell of pride when your nose finally buries itself in the curls at the base of his cock.

Simon’s hand comes around to cup the back of your head, holding you there. You glance up at him, his eyes shining in the low light. “Good fucking girl,” He growls out, “Just made to take my cock aren’t ya?”

You hum around his length, roll your tongue against him as best you can. His fingers grip your hair and pull you back, your spit slicking his length even with just moonlight setting the room aglow. Simon holds you at the tip, letting you circle it with your tongue, sucking and swallowing down the pre-come that drools from him. Simon’s hips buck, a soft swear dropping from his lips as you take the unexpected inch. His hand leaves the back of your head, fixing his hat where it’s started to tip off you and gripping the sides of your head. You lean back to look up at him, blinking the static of dark vision from your eyes. 

“Gonna fuck this pretty face,” Simon tells you, his voice rough, like his vocal cords have been dragged through gravel. Despite the lack of tone, you know it’s a question, one you give a short nod to.

The first thrust of his hips is gentle, testing. You breathe through your nose, let him get acquainted with your gag reflex as you get used to the in and out feeling. Simon holds your head still, inching his cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. You hold your tongue flat against the underside of his heavy length, feeling the pulse of blood, the twitch of muscle as he works himself faster and deeper. 

Your throat constricts and Simon pauses, before his hands yank you sharply, bypassing your gag and nestling you at the base of his cock. Your eyes water, your nose starting to run as your throat works around the intrusion. He stretches your throat around his thick cock, you can feel the press of him, uncomfortable but dripping warmth down your spine. Simon pulls you off, and you gasp, suck in a breath as you watch spit string between your lips and his cock. You get one good breath in before he’s fucking your face in earnest.

You whine around the fat cock testing the ache in your jaw as Simon’s hips snap against your lips. His balls slap against your chin, heavy and already pulling tight. You do your best to keep your mouth open, lips sucking at him as he moves. There’s an ache between your legs, a voice in the back of your mind that wishes it was your pussy getting this treatment. You can only imagine how deeply he’d hit you, the stretch of your lips around his cock making you prickle with ideas of the way he’d split your cunt open.

Simon pulls back with a low groan, and come hits your tongue before he’s pushing back in. You blink the tears from your eyes, swallowing as best you can as he comes down your throat. It’s a lot, enough that your hands leave his thighs to cup under your chin, waiting to catch the drool and spend that you’re sure is dripping from between your lips. Warm and bitter, you wonder what he’s been eating since he came to town, if he needs someone to put vegetables on his plate. He pulls his cock out of your mouth and you tip your head back, swallowing the hot come still on your tongue. You open your mouth, tongue out to let him see that you’re empty.

Simon is silent. Something in his shining eyes seems to mirror yours. His thumb strokes over your tongue, with a hum that makes you think he’s got something on his mind. It feels almost sweet, almost affectionate, as his fingers stroke over your jaw. He crouches in front of you, and his hands leave you, only to reappear on your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder as he stands with nothing more than a grunt. His shoulder is broad and warm under your stomach, you drag your hands up the corded muscles of his back and feel a pulse of attraction thrum through the heat simmering in your stomach. Fuck, he’s strong.

You’re tossed onto what must be his bed. You bounce on the mattress and attempt to get your bearings in the low light. Simon’s hat tumbles off your head, and you glance about in the darkness for it. The lamp next to the bed clicks on and you flinch at the sudden rush of light. The wash of warm light is too much after so long in the dark, but you’re faster adjusting to this than the darkness. Simon settles a hand on your thigh, pulling you close as he settles on the bed beside you.

“On me love,” He murmurs and you drag your eyes to his face, “wanna see when you ride my face.”

Oh. He isn’t wearing his mask. His eyes are desperate, brows drawn low to shadow the watery browns that stare at you. His nose looks like it’s been broken one too many times, and there’s a scar running across his lips that tugs a little too much of his teeth into such a pretty picture. There’s something soft to him though, something aching in the length of his jaw that makes you want to hold him close. You must hesitate, must take too long looking at him.

“Tongue still works,” He teases you, the pink muscle dragging over the split in his lip, his teeth.

“You’re awfully pretty to be wearing a mask,” You smile, moving to settle your knees on either side of his ears. (Big enough ears you think he must’ve had to grow into them) Simon hums, his hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you down against his mouth. You can see pink starting to creep over his cheeks even as his tongue drags along your slit. The thought that Simon must not take compliments easily is erased from your mind as his lips close around your clit and suck hard.

The electric feeling jerks through your body. So much time on your knees worshiping a cock that should have been splitting you open left you buzzing and now you’re getting some well deserved relief. Simon’s tongue is hot as it splits your folds, wiggling to lap at the slick you’d been drooling before rolling against your clit. Each touch to the sensitive bud sends another zap of pleasure ripping up your spine. You whimper, your chest heaving with breaths you hardly have the chance to take with the way he sucks at you. One of Simon’s hands leaves you, fishing around on the bed beside you. You frown down at him, pout really, until you feel his hat settle on your head again.

“Gotta keep your- your claim on me?” You ask, though you don’t think your tone is quite right. Simon hums under you, a groan of assent. He tips his head, dragging long strokes of his tongue over your slit. You’re too worked up already, his mouth feels like a furnace, his tongue touches you like a brand. Your hips move on their own, following the course of Simon’s tongue, your clit bumping against his nose as you grind yourself against his mouth. Your fingers hold your skirt up out of the way, you may as well be planning to shred the thing with how tightly your fingers dig into the fabric. 

Simon stares up at you, his eyes closing with a satisfied groan as you grind a little more firmly against his tongue. Having his attention on you like this makes your stomach clench. You can feel his smile, feel his teeth just graze over your clit, teasing before he’s sucking at it. You squeeze his head between your thighs, half formed praises on your tongue as you feel your muscles start to tremble from the strain of your tightening orgasm. 

The longer he licks you the less you can hear your own thoughts, too consumed by the satisfied groans and slurping sounds between your legs. Simon eats you like a starving man getting his first meal. His hands move to grab your ass, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers, and spreading you open just to feel you. Your slick is smeared over his mouth, smeared over your thighs where his stubble has dragged it across your skin. You feel wet and warm, your cunt tingling on the edge of your second orgasm of the night. His tongue wiggles its way into your hole and you break.

“Fuck me.” You whine, your words almost sobs as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if it’s a demand or simply a needy expletive. It doesn’t stop Simon from sucking your clit hard, his tongue swirling around the bud until your back arches and the tension in your stomach bleeds out in a rush of shivers and moans. Your pleasure coursing through you as Simon licks and sucks at your cunt until you’re jerking at the new sensitivity.

Simon holds your hips, drags you down to sit on his stomach, the firm muscle flexing as your legs are forced further apart by the sheer width of the man. He drags your sensitive pussy against his stomach, letting the blond hair tickle your clit. You pout, settle your hands on his chest to hold yourself steady with even when your muscles still shiver with every twitch of your hips.

His fingers grip the bottom of your shirt when you demonstrate you can grind by yourself. Simon tugs it up over your head and you happily assist in undressing. He’s quicker with your bra, unhooking the clasp before you can shrug the straps off. Simons big hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. The touch is firm, appreciative, he squeezes the soft skin and you whine.

“Lemme ‘ear it again, Princess.” Simon rumbles. You can feel his voice low in his chest. His hands drop back to your hips to guide you. You don’t need to think to know what he’s asking.

“Fuck me Simon,” You breath, leaning to kiss him. You pull your tongue over his lips, tip your head to clean your come off his face. His mouth opens to catch your tongue, pushing his own to meet yours as you dip it between his lips. His hands raise your hips, angling you to notch his cockhead against your entrance. 

You know this part, know the press of your hips down onto him, the breathless anticipation as he slowly stretches you. You must have forgotten how big he was on your tongue. You drop your head to rest your forehead against Simon’s cheek, the stretch of just his head making your eyes start to roll. His fingers stroke down your back, a comfort as you ease yourself down his length. Your every breath feels like it’s softened by a moan. The stretch of him burning against your entrance, his cock dragging against your gummy walls. You feel so tight around him you can feel the curve of his dick, the veins that line it, the ridge of his thick head. 

Your legs still shake from your orgasm. If it weren’t for Simon’s hands holding you, you would’ve sunk down to the base of his cock just from the inability to hold yourself up. You attempt to push yourself up from the way you’ve cuddled close to your cowboy, and he holds you tight. The hand which had been petting down your back presses firm between your shoulders, his other arm wrapping over your him. You wonder- and then he thrusts the rest of his fat length into you and you don’t wonder anything else.

You all but collapse on his chest, his arm tight on the small of your back, arches your hips up as you bury your face against his neck. You can feel the mattress dip where he plants his feet before you feel the drag of his cock out of you, and the sweet friction of it sliding back home inside you. You dig your teeth into Simon’s shoulder, the scarred skin dipping under your bite as he fucks up into you.

Each stroke of his cock is like a punch in your stomach. The stretch of your cunt around him, his cockhead hitting your sweet spot every time it nudges your entrance, only adds to the devastating length of him. Your eyes roll, your voice tight when you have the air to let it escape you. He hits something inside you that almost hurts with how good it feels, the electricity of it shivering up your spine and tightening your muscles. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to push your hips back into the feeling.

“Tha’s it, sweet’eart,” Simon murmurs in your ears, “Jus’ like that.”

You whine at the praise, at the groan that follows it. He keeps you held so tightly against him, your nipples dragging against his firm chest with each thrust. You try to kiss at his neck, lips parting to pant with each pull of his cock. He fills you so full and deep you can hardly think. You’ve never had anyone hold you like this, never had anyone fuck you with the same sort of intense desperation. Simon’s lips press to your temple, his hips snapping to meet your weak thrusts with the wet squelching sounds of pleasure following.

Trying to draw a full breath is too much, you moan and squeak against Simon’s skin. Your lips travel over the scarred flesh, your teeth desperate to mark, to hold onto something as your fingers curl against his firm chest. There’s nothing for you to do but hold on and let this man take his pleasure from your body. Your hips stutter, the pleasure hitting you too tightly to keep your muscles moving. The tension in your muscles doesn’t stop Simon’s movements. His groans turn to growls, his lips moving with silent praise as he pistons into your clenching cunt. 

The drag of his skin against your soft walls, the burn of friction, coupled with the deep punch of his cock drives you to the edge and holds you there. Every twitch and movement making sparks of pleasure light up your skin. Your muscles shake with the burn of contraction, the ache of being split open. Your cunt burns with desperate heat, and you snake one of your hands down to rub tight circles over your clit. It doesn’t take much for you to fall apart. Your cunt flutters, sucking at Simon’s cock as the attention to your clit shoots up your spine and melts over your muscles. You fall apart, and just as sincerely you fall against Simon’s chest, panting and whimpering his name on every stroke.

He fills you fast, his cock stilled inside your cunt as you feel it twitch. Heat fills you, burns you, marks you from the inside. Simon moans low in the back of his throat. He gives a few short thrusts, enjoying the clutch of your pussy, as you settle into the floating feeling of satisfaction. He pulls out and you feel his come drip out of your hole, sliding through your folds to pool against his softening cock.

"What is your favorite footie team?" Simon asks once he's found his breath. You yawn, wiggling to cuddle against him.

"Reds," You murmur, and hear him snort out a short laugh.

"Liverpool?"

"Can't all be Man U fans," You sigh, and Ghost thinks your voice must be like honey the way it sticks to his mind, "Someone's gotta win games."

Ghost bites down his smile, feeling the way you unspool against him. Your body going lax and your breathing evening out. Do you trust him so readily that you'd fall asleep like this? You barely know him, hell he doesn't even know your name, but here you are.

“Gonna keep you,” He tells you, it feels like speaking sin into the world, tainting this perfect thing that's fallen into his lap, but he's too greedy to care, “Not le’in’ you go, can’t.”

You don’t answer him with anything more than a half asleep hum. Your lashes flutter against his skin, your face pressed against his neck. Wrapped around him with all the comfort he could ask for. Ghost swallows, turns his head to press his lips to your temple, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and the sweat of sex. Such a pretty thing to fall into his arms so willingly. You compliment him too well, know what he wants before he asks for it. He’d be a fool to let you go. No, he’s keeping you, you’re the sort of girl men chase after with wedding rings, and he can already hear the bells ringing for him.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x oc #oc: goose #cowboy au #cowboy!ghost #cowgirl!reader #f!reader #minors do not interact

[ch6douin]

Hello I saw that you didn't write anything for Eli from your previous ask,so I have a brain rot for him,so you know that seer are people that have insights of the future right? So what if Eli saw a future where player transported inside the game, what would he and everyone react to this information? I could think Frederick and Antonio cramming to make a musical piece for player for that day,or Naib trying to act displeased but his little cotton heart is hoping for that day.Or will Eli deny this future and keep it all to himself, out of dislike or being selfish?

Took long enough, honestly I just went with my instincts doing this... didn't feel like reading elis lore again

For a respectable and wise seer, Eli did regret his decisions sometimes. He should have known better when he spoke those long awaited words. He also expected from mostly grown adults a tinge of maturity, and not pure chaos that ensured you would step into this manor and never want to go back in again.

He thought to himself that the place was never this loud, never. No one had enough energy to bring life to these old rooms, but suddenly you made it happen and they don't know how to deal with all this excitement. May the higher beings bless you with patience, you're gonna need plenty of that when you arrive.

Frederick and Antonio are working on a musical piece, a token for your company during matches. They are not done yet, perfectionists in their natural habitat. If you look closely, you’ll see that Frederick has some huge eyebags. Others might be more subtle with their gifts of appreciation, your food looks even tastier for some reason. The extroverted ones are definitely trying to help you as much as they can for an easier adaptation. Those who don't talk to you are the most common, the ones who don't like the attention and see no chance to approach you when you’re surrounded.

Eli isn't exactly someone present in all that mess, if a discussion occurs during the preparations, he'll happily take the role as a peacemaker, but that's just it. Don't expect him to lavish you with presents or follow you almost everywhere for answers and some chatting. He will wait for you to come to him, and when the time comes, he will greet you with a smile. There are no ulterior motives, no need to hide his intentions, you know him by the palm of your hand and he has no way to hide.

#asks #idvselfaware #self aware au #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv seer #eli clark

[lesbehonestsstuff]

Let me help

Summary: Casey meets Alex at the DA’s office Christmas party. Alex is about to make a move on her when she sees the ring on her finger. Months later after becoming friends Alex is called to the hospital to help on a case.

Note: I needed a break for a second from my other story and this popped in my mind so here you go.

As the DA's office Christmas party dragged on, Casey found herself debating whether she wanted to go home and see what was waiting for her there or stay and be bored out of her mind by how the night was going. The room was filled with the clinking of glasses, the low murmur of conversations, and the occasional forced laughter. Casey stood in the corner, her eyes flicking to the clock every few minutes in an endless blur of small talk and polite smiles.

Across the room, Alex Cabot watched Casey with interest. She had heard plenty about the young ADA in White Collar—her quick wit, her boldness, her impressive record. But seeing her in person was different. Casey was beautiful, just as tall as Alex if not a bit more, her red hair caught the light in a way that made her glow, and there was something in her green eyes that piqued Alex's curiosity.

Unable to resist the pull, Alex made her way through the crowd toward Casey. Each step was deliberate, her gaze never wavering from her.

"Counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to get out of here?" Alex's voice was smooth, carrying a hint of teasing that made Casey jump at the unexpected interruption to her thoughts.

"Oh, no, I wasn't," Casey replied, caught off guard by Alex's sudden presence.

"It's okay, I'm just teasing," Alex said with a warm smile, extending her hand. "Alex Cabot, Sex Crimes."

"Casey Novak, White Collar," Casey replied, shaking her hand. The touch lingered, a subtle current passing between them that left Casey slightly breathless.

"So, I finally put a face to the name. Congrats on the Green case. From what I heard, you might've set a record for the fastest conviction," Alex said, enjoying the way her words caused a slight blush to appear on Casey's face.

"Thanks," Casey ducked her head, not quite used to people complimenting her on cases yet.

Alex took mercy on her and continued the conversation. “You liking White Collar?”

"Yeah. But I would eventually want to move on to Homicide," she admitted. It was true; as much as she liked White Collar, she couldn’t see herself working in it for long.

Alex took a sip of her drink and chuckled a bit at Casey's ambition. “Homicide is good, although you have to have the stomach for it.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Casey agreed.

“Want to get some air?” Alex suggested, noticing how stuffy the crowded room was getting and hoping it would give her an excuse to extend their conversation.

Casey seemed to think about it for a second, looking back at her watch one more time before nodding her head and following Alex's lead. “Sure.”

They stepped out onto the terrace, the cold night air a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. Casey took a deep breath, taking a second to take Alex in. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Everyone in the DA's office knew her; she had a presence that commanded attention, and it sent a flutter through Casey.

“So, these parties,” Casey motioned to the people inside, “are they usually this dull?” she asked, a smile forming on her lips.

"Well, it depends. Last year, I got to see a girl throw a drink at Jason Whitaker's face, so at least that was entertaining," Alex said with a laugh, her eyes never leaving Casey's.

Casey laughed with her, nearly choking on her drink as she did so. “I haven’t heard about him in a while. He’s a prick.”

“Yeah, he is,” Alex agreed.

Silence filled the air once more, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They each sipped their drinks, the cold air of Manhattan around them. Casey brought her left hand up next to her drink, and for the first time that night, Alex noticed what she thought was the most devastating thing she could see: a ring on Casey's finger.

Casey, oblivious to the disappointment rushing through Alex, let her curiosity get the better of her. “How do you handle sex crimes?” she asked, wondering how any ADA who worked in that field ever managed to cope with what they saw.

"Well, it's not easy," Alex admitted, snapping back into the conversation. "Half of the time it destroys you a little bit. Plus, my detectives give me a headache more often than not. But it's worth it."

"I can imagine. I don't think I could ever do it, but I heard you're pretty good at it," Casey said, finishing her drink with one last swig.

"Oh, so you've heard about me, Miss Novak?" Alex teased, in an attempt to get Casey to smile at her again

"Maybe," Casey replied, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

They stayed quiet again, looking over the Manhattan skyline, enjoying the cacophony of city life beneath them.

"You okay?" Alex asked gently, noticing the way Casey glanced at her watch, a shadow passing over her face.

"Yeah, yeah. I just... I think I'm going to head out. It's getting pretty late, and my fiancé doesn't like it when I get home late," Casey explained, a hint of regret in her voice.

"Right," Alex said, masking her disappointment. The confirmation of a fiancé was a blow that shattered her hope at pursuing anything, but Alex refused to let it show.

"It was nice meeting you, Alex," Casey said, offering a sincere smile.

"You too," Alex replied, her eyes lingering on Casey's face.

As Casey turned to leave, Alex couldn't resist calling out, "Hey, Casey."

"What's up?" Casey asked, turning back.

"You want to grab a cup of coffee sometime? Tell me all about why you hate Jason Whitaker," Alex suggested.

"Sure, sounds fun," Casey agreed, giving Alex one last smile, one last look at those beautiful green eyes before she turned and walked away.

"See you around, Casey," Alex said, watching as Casey left. There was something about Casey that fascinated her, and Alex couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something interesting.

A few months had passed since Alex and Casey first met at the Christmas party, and in that time, they had spent more and more time together, developing a friendship that allowed both women a break from their busy lives. They often met for coffee or brought each other lunch, helping each other with their cases and sharing details from their lives. Though there always seemed to be a blank when it came to Casey's fiancé and her relationship. She never brought him up, and Alex never asked because even if her initial feelings towards the redhead had only grown, she would gladly take her friendship over nothing at all and she was glad she didn't have to hear about the woman's fiancé.

Casey had canceled their lunch that day and although Alex had been disappointed, she didn’t push and went home early to try and get done with some files. She finished everything and had finally managed to go to sleep when her phone buzzed over and over again. She picked it up, annoyed at whoever was on the other side for waking her up when she had finally beaten her insomnia for the night. When she answered, it was Olivia’s voice on the other end requesting Alex’s presence at the hospital, talking about a case and hanging up on her before Alex could even protest. So she dragged herself out of bed and quickly made her way to the hospital.

“What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till the morning, Liv?” Alex asked as she found Olivia in the hallway.

Olivia looked up from her notepad, catching sight of a slightly annoyed and sleep-deprived Alex. “We caught a case, and we figured you would want to jump on it quickly.”

Alex rubbed her temple, willing her brain to wake up before Olivia bombarded her with information. “Why?”

“The vic is an ADA,” Olivia told her simply, walking them down the brightly lit hallway.

That finished waking Alex up, her head now focused on the case at hand. “What happened?” she asked, following Olivia around the corner and past the nurses' station.

“Neighbors called in a domestic disturbance. When the officers got there, they found her covered in cuts and bruises and called us in. She tried to tell the officers it was a mistake, but they still called us. Apparently, the fiancé is schizophrenic and was off his medication. He did a number on her.”

“Jesus. Any sign of sexual assault?” Alex asked, her stomach churning a little.

“Don’t know yet. She isn’t talking and won’t let the nurses run a rape kit,” Olivia explained, pausing in front of one of the rooms.

Alex sighed, dreading this already but figuring she could try to see if she could get through to her. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. What is her name?”

Olivia looked through the pages of her notepad until she landed on the name. “Uh, Casey Novak. You know her?”

Now she felt like she might throw up, the words from Olivia's mouth hitting her like a punch to the gut. Her blood ran cold. She felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her. Her mind flashed back to every coffee, every lunch, every guarded look on Casey’s face. She had missed it. She had failed to see any signs. “I do,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

How had she not known? She thought of the moments she had spent with Casey, the subtle signs of distress she had overlooked. She had never asked about Casey's fiancé, never pried into that part of her life, respecting her privacy. Now, she regretted it deeply. She should have seen something was wrong. She cleared her throat and reached for the door, Olivia shooting her a concerned look when she saw Alex looked upset. “It’s okay, I’ll talk to her.”

Alex opened the door to the exam room where Casey was being kept, her heart pounding in her chest as she did so. The sight that greeted her made her nearly let out a gasp. Casey sat on the hospital bed with her knees drawn to her chest, her usually vibrant face now a mess of cuts and bruises. With this job, people often appeared older than they were, but looking at Casey now, Alex saw just how young and scared the 25-year-old looked.

“Hey,” Alex said softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite how badly it wanted to break.

Casey’s face shot up and allowed Alex to see the extent of the injuries Charlie had caused. “Alex,” Casey responded, relief evident in her voice as she saw a familiar face. “Please don't let them hurt him,” she immediately pleaded, not letting the blonde have another word before she was practically begging.

“Casey, he beat you,” Alex said gently, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Casey shook her head quickly. “He doesn’t mean to. He’s sick,” she insisted, her eyes desperate for Alex to understand.

“Casey—” Alex began, but Casey cut her off.

“No, I don't want to hear it. I didn’t even want to come here. I told the officers that. I’m not a victim, I’m not.” She hugged her knees tighter, repeating herself almost like she was trying to convince herself that this wasn’t happening.

Alex moved a little bit closer, always staying in Casey’s line of sight and moving slowly so as not to startle her anymore. “He hurt you, Casey. You know they have to follow protocol.”

Casey’s eyes filled with tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “I know, but I just… He needs help, not prison, Alex. I can help him.”

Alex sighed, feeling a surge of frustration run through her. As much as she wanted to do as Casey asked, she knew they had to follow protocol, and she also wanted to lock him away and throw away the key. “I'll have our psychiatrist examine him and go from there. But we need to make sure you’re safe too. Let me help you.”

Casey nodded and let her head fall to her knees once more. Alex knew she still had something to ask and she dreaded doing it. “You know I need to ask. Did he sexually assault you?”

Casey didn’t look up at her, only hugged herself tighter.

“Please, Casey,” Alex pleaded, not liking what her friend's body language was telling her.

“No,” Casey finally whispered, sending a shot of relief through Alex that quickly faded when Casey kept talking. “Not tonight.”

Alex ran her hand over her face, racking her brain and trying to understand how she didn’t see this. “But it has happened,” she affirmed.

Casey looked up at her, and the tears that had threatened to fall before fell now. “He doesn't mean to,” she sobbed, and Alex took that as her cue to sit next to her and carefully bring Casey into her arms.

“Okay, it’s okay. I got you,” she whispered over and over again as Casey cried in her arms.

“I don’t know what to do, Alex. He won’t let me help,” Casey managed to get out between sobs.

Alex kissed her forehead, trying to bring her some comfort. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Casey nodded weakly, the fight seemingly draining out of her. Alex held her tightly, wishing she could take away all the pain.

Alex was trying so hard to think of what she was going to do to help that she almost missed Casey’s mumbling against her.

"Alex, I don't feel so good," Casey muttered, her voice tinged with confusion.

Alex frowned, pulling away to look at Casey’s face, shocked when her already pale friend looked even paler. "Should I get a nurse?"

Before Casey could respond, she felt a sharp drop in her energy. Her vision blurred, and she struggled to stay focused. Her heart pounded erratically, her skin growing clammy. Alex panicked as she saw the sudden change in her friend's condition.

"Nurse! We need help!" Alex's voice was urgent, her eyes wide with fear.

Within moments, medical staff flooded the room, followed by Olivia, who had been standing right outside the door. Casey's blood pressure had plummeted, and her heart rate was dangerously high. Her bright eyes now looked distant and confused. The nurses quickly assessed the situation, gently but firmly moving Alex aside. "She's crashing. Please wait outside," one of the nurses instructed, pushing Alex and Olivia to the door.

Casey's consciousness began to fade, her body slipping into shock. She felt a cold, sinking sensation, as if she was being pulled away from reality. Despite the flurry of activity around her, she could hardly comprehend what was happening, seeing a blurry blonde figure before everything went dark.

Alex stumbled out of the room, her heart racing. She stood just outside the door, helplessly watching as the medical team worked to help Casey.

The last thing she saw was Casey go limp before the door was closed in her face. Alex felt tears prick at her eyes, praying it wouldn’t be the last time she saw the woman she had silently started to love since the day she met her.

#I felt like being mean today #alex cabot #casey novak #law and order svu #casey novak x alex cabot #part 2?

[aryaqua-reh2o]

The Full Moon ending is perfect!

A day in Stolas and Blitzø’s lives that summarises what’s happened so far. 

Blitzø and Stolas are perfectly disastrous in their way and of course, they were going to collide at some point. After brewing for one and a half seasons, the miscommunication between these adorable idiots peaked. Who’s fault is that? Both! And in equal part! I can’t stand reading how many people blamed Blitzø alone. The truth is, they both acted incredibly wrong and also incredibly well for who they are. 

Let’s start with Stolas: he ran out of his happy pills on the most important day of his life (probably). Now, I can’t talk from experience because I never used antidepressants (at least I assume they are antidepressants), but I doubt that skipping one dose turns you into an emotional wreck. But the thing is, Stolas is autistic and I can relate to this and the way he behaved. The pills were something he could rely on to stay afloat probably during his whole sad life, so running out of it first thing in the morning in the middle of an emotional Dinsey princess moment was truly bad timing. Stolas found himself stripped of this little safety blanket. During his song, he gets happy, dramatic, desperate and hopeful. He most likely spent the day in a mood swing, and let’s remember that he wakes up at 7 AM and meets Blitzø at 11:56 PM, plenty of time to panic [Side note, the breakup happens 4 minutes later so at midnight on the dot, I love these little details]. Stolas knows how he feels about Blitzø, he has known for some time, and he’s ready to tell him. If I know a little bit about how a brain on the spectrum works, he most likely had been rehearsing any possible scenarios in his head for hours (or days, or months) and that’s why when Blitzø arrives, Stolas doesn’t say anything to interrupt the other displaying of sex toys, until he decides it’s time to stop Blitzø (that it’s clearly freaking out already at that point) and opens the conversation in the worst possible way ever: “I need it [the Grimoire] back. Permanently”. It seems unnecessarily cruel to just take the book from Blitzø, letting him tear up and beg. But then Stolas pulls out the box with the crystal and we have the Stolitz music playing and… but why make Blitzø cry and not just give him the crystal straight away? Because Stolas was too stuck in his mind already. He played out this scene so many times in his head, that he couldn’t act any different without losing his cool. Don’t get this wrong: from here on I absolutely LOVE how Stolas handled the situation, how he spoke, what he did and said, from kneeling in front of Blitzø, gently holding his hand to calm him down when he was about to panic, and then he gave him the crystal while confessing his feelings for him. Stolas at this point had been in touch and honest with his feelings for months (at least since Ozzie’s from what we can see on screen), but the main problem is that Stolas has no idea of what is going on with Blitzø, so when obviously Blitzø feels cornered and doesn’t want to face his feelings so abruptly and hides behind sex and roleplaying, Stolas loses his control over the situation and closes up for good. Anything that happens between “Do you…Do you have my book Blitzø?” and “That’s enough to know what this is” is a monologue. When Blitzø doesn’t follow the idea Stolas has in his mind, Stolas just walks away. 

And this is VALID because Stolas has never been in a real relationship, he has no friends or family aside from Via, and he doesn’t know how to deal with people with complex emotions like Blitzø. It is quite common for people on the spectrum to assume that everyone else is alike, thinks alike, and responds similarly to certain patterns, so when Stolas doesn’t get the response he was expecting, he immediately reads it as rejection. He turns away from Blitzø and leaves without giving the other any chance other than yelling in anger and despair. 

On Blitzø's side things are more linear. He was and still is in constant… ignorance. Meaning he actively ignores his and Stolas’ feelings. I don’t think he is in denial, because he knows fully well he has feelings for Stolas at least since S1E6 Truth Seekers, he knows he fears intimacy and also craves it. And he most likely knows, at least in part, that Stolas has feelings for him as shown during the exchange with Fizz in Oops (that part was denial, yes). Blitzø knows this night is important and different. They haven’t seen each other for months. He was the one who decided to skip a few rounds when Stolas gave him the opportunity, and if we go with the text exchange in Western Energy, it’s safe to assume they haven’t seen each other since Seeing Stars and probably haven’t slept together since before Ozzie’s. Blitzø’s strategy to deal with his fears and feelings is to let things linger doing nothing in the hope they settle back to where they were when the deal was still new and comfortable. Because Blitzø doesn’t want to admit he has feelings for Stolas, but most of all he doesn’t want to accept that Stolas has feelings for him, because who can love him? Certainly not a prince of all people. Blitzø goes shopping to impress Stolas because he wants to keep staying in that deal, no commitment, no need to reveal his feelings, he could keep going forever, transactional sex is convenient and non-commmittal. (Inadvertently showing, while doing sex shopping, how much he cares for Stolas and how deeply he knows him and what he likes, he wants to make Stolas happy). He wants to go back to sex and show Stolas a “good time” so he doesn’t have to think about how he felt when he realised Stolas could get hurt. He doesn’t want to think about anything, but then, when Stolas takes control of the narrative, Blitzø can only be there and follow it until it gets too overwhelming. He tries so desperately to stick to the habits, to the point he has this massive slip when he tries to give back the crystal to Stolas and says he can always do better. He doesn’t want a way out. He doesn’t want to choose. He loves being in chains because it’s easy. He wants things to stay the way they are, for Stolas to use him as a sex toy, and to be used by him because admitting that he has feelings and that he sees that Stolas has feelings for him is too much. But Stolas clearly states how he feels and what he wants. Blitzø understands perfectly, but he can’t accept it, so he tries in a desperate attempt to get back to where they were, to pretend one more time. Blitzø runs away from the feelings Stolas is showing him in a way that triggers Stolas in the worst possible way. Stolas runs away from Blitzø when he can’t deal with his heartbreak anymore, triggering Blitzø’s fear that translates into an angry outburst. Stolas doesn’t stop for a second and doesn’t listen to Blitzø who is yelling at him to, basically, stop and listen to him. Blitzø says hurtful things to Stolas because he is desperate and he feels rejected and abandoned by him. After avoiding any type of confrontation for months, Blitzø finally gives in, but he’s hurt, angry and terrified so he does the only thing he’s comfortable with: he yells. He doesn’t know of Stolas’ past of being abused by his wife. Stolas just wants out, out of the feeling of being rejected (even if he obviously jumped to the wrong conclusions too fast) and away from yet another person screaming at him. Blitzø only manages to stop Stolas by yelling at him hurtful things he doesn’t fully believe. Unfortunately, Stolas listens to that. And for the first time in his life, he cries in front of someone. Blitzø finally realises how much his words hurt Stolas, but it’s too late to apologise and he finds himself teleported outside mid-apology.

Honestly, I don’t think they could have screwed up any worse than that even if they tried. But this needed to happen and I’m glad it did. Blitzø needed to see Stolas heartbroken to understand Stolas was in love with him. Stolas did the best he could for who he is, he made the first move, and now the ball is in Blitzø’s court. 

I owe Blitz an apology. When speculating on The Full Moon I assumed it was going to end badly and I blamed Blitzø for it. Now that the episode is out I can see that mostly it’s Stolas’ fault. Yes, I said it, it’s predominantly Stolas’ fault if The Full Moon ended in tragedy, but this is important: Blitzø knows Stolas treated him wrong (not only in the last episode, many many times before that) but now he also knows that Stolas can get hurt physically and emotionally, and yes, he proved himself to be a pompous rich asshole that happens to also be deeply in love with him. Is then Stolas worth fighting for? I think we all know the answer. What I hope to see in Apology Tour is the both of them apologizing to each other AND to themselves. Neither Stolas nor Blitzø know what love is. They are trying and failing but in the end, they are both desperate for one another and if Stolas can get his head out of his ass and Blitzø finally drops the act for a minute, they could just… talk and start to figure things out. And maybe in Apology Tour we will know more about what happened with Verosika and why that relationship went South so badly, I bet it’s going to play a huge part in Blitzø’s future development.

#helluva boss #stolas #blitzø #stolitz #helluva boss theory #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss the full moon #apology tour

[geotjwrs]

Can u do a Jenna Ortega x Male reader singer (Maybe music from Frank ocean or Tyler?🤷🏾‍♂️)

ivy

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; angsty

Note ; hello everyone since i'm getting a lot of requests lately, i just want to clear to you that i'm slowing down the updates first since i can't think that many of the scenarios i'm mostly receiving smut requests and i'm having a hard time to write some so i hope you understand. please don't rush me with your requests I'll update as soon as possible if i have plenty of time to write tysm!

The city lights of Los Angeles twinkled below as Jenna Ortega stood on the balcony of her apartment, the cool night air doing little to soothe her frayed nerves. Inside, Y/N paced back and forth, frustration etched on his face. They had been arguing for what felt like hours, their once warm and loving home now filled with tension.

“Jenna, you know I have to go on tour. This is my career we’re talking about!” Y/N’s voice was strained, his hands running through his hair in exasperation.

“And what about us?” Jenna shot back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re always on the road, always busy. When do we get time for us?”

Y/N stopped pacing and faced her, his expression softening for a moment. “I love you, Jenna. But I can’t just give up on my dreams. You knew this was part of the deal when we started dating.”

Jenna’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. “I know, but it feels like I’m losing you to your career. We barely see each other anymore.”

Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m trying, Jenna. But it’s hard to balance everything.”

She pulled away, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe we’re just too different.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Y/N’s face fell, and he knew deep down that she was right. They had grown apart, their lives pulling them in different directions. The realization was painful, but it was the truth.

“Is this it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I think it has to be. For both our sakes.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable. He walked past her, pausing at the door. “I’ll always love you, Jenna. But maybe we need to let go to find ourselves again.”

Jenna closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you too, Y/N. Goodbye.”

With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him. Jenna sank to the floor, her heart breaking as the reality of their breakup set in. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the echoes of their love lingering like ghosts.

Months passed, and life moved on. Jenna threw herself into her work, trying to fill the void Y/N had left. But no matter how busy she kept herself, she couldn’t escape the memories of their time together. She missed him terribly, but she knew they had made the right decision.

One night, while scrolling through her phone, Jenna came across a notification for Y/N’s upcoming concert. Despite everything, she couldn’t resist tuning in. The livestream showed a packed venue, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Y/N took the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” Y/N’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Tonight, I have something special to share with you. This is a new song I wrote called ‘Ivy.’ It’s about someone who was very important to me, someone I loved deeply.”

Jenna’s heart clenched as she listened. She knew this song was about their relationship, about the love and heartbreak they had experienced. Y/N began to play, the soft, haunting melody filling the room. His voice, rich and emotional, carried the weight of their shared history.

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me the start of nothing, I had no chance to prepare I couldn’t see you coming…

Flashback

It had been a particularly difficult day on set for Jenna. She was exhausted, emotionally drained from the intense scenes she’d filmed. She came home hoping to find solace in Y/N’s arms, but he was busy with his own work, preparing for his upcoming tour.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you,” Jenna said, her voice weary as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He looked up from his laptop, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Jenna?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… everything feels overwhelming. I feel like I’m constantly juggling my career and our relationship, and I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job at either.”

Y/N got up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I know it’s hard, Jenna. But we’re in this together. We’ll figure it out.”

Jenna buried her face in his chest, trying to draw strength from his presence. But even as he held her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that had been creeping in. “Do you really believe that? Because sometimes it feels like we’re drifting apart.”

He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “Jenna, I love you. But we both have demanding careers. We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

Flashback ended

Jenna found herself back in her apartment, tears streaming down her face. The song continued, Y/N’s voice filled with raw emotion as he sang about the love they had lost:

We’ll never be those kids again the streetlights in the middle of your back I wish I could go back to when I was just a boy staring at my bedroom ceiling

The chorus hit harder, a reminder of the love they had shared and lost. Jenna’s tears flowed freely, the song cutting deep into her soul.

Ivy’s in my life until the end of time it's part of the plan to just keep me by your side

The audience was captivated, many moved to tears by the raw vulnerability of the performance. Y/N poured his heart out, every word a testament to the love he had lost.

As the song ended, Y/N looked out into the crowd, his expression a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling. “This song means a lot to me, and I’m grateful to have been able to share it with you tonight.”

Jenna closed her laptop, her heart heavy yet oddly at peace. She knew that both she and Y/N would always carry a piece of each other, no matter where life took them. Their love story, though brief, had left an indelible mark on their souls.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot

[richonnesbitch]

Here's chapter 2 of my bridge wedding fanfic! I wrote this like two months ago and then got distracted with personal stuff so I haven't finished chapter 3 yet. I hope you all like this one! I'll upload chapter 3 as soon as I'm able :)

"Thank you all for meeting me here today. As you all know, the bridge is nearly finished. We discussed this before but I don't believe we went into detail. There was some talk of a party to celebrate. Would everyone still be up for that?"

"Rick, that's a great plan. Kingdom will most certainly do their part to help.", Ezekiel responded. Carol smiled and nodded in agreement.

Rick looked to Jesus. "Sure, Rick. That'll be good for all of us."

"Oh, great. I'm glad to hear that. Michonne and I.... we're gonna get married on the bridge. I was hoping maybe it could be not only a celebration for the bridge but a reception, too."

The room lit up as he dropped the news.

"Congratulations, Rick Grimes!" Ezekiel extended his hand out to Rick, shaking it firmly.

"Congratulations, Rick.", Carol replied genuinely. She flashbacked to their recent conversations where Rick seemed more than interested in her and Ezekiel engagement.

"Congrats, Rick." Jesus grabbed his shoulder and gave it an affirming squeeze. "We can definitely do that."

"Definitely.", Ezekiel concurred. Carol nodded.

"Thank you all. I really appreciate this. Alexandria will handle food and decorations. But I was wondering... Ezekiel, Carol... would Kingdom mind handling desserts."

Carol stared at him. "What kind of desserts did you have in mind?"

"Well, a cake for me and Michonne. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is her favorite. That ones a must. For the rest it doesn't really matter as much... maybe some brownies, cookies, maybe some pies, cinnamon rolls.... you know, that kinda stuff. Jesus, maybe Hilltop can bring some wine or booze for the adults to enjoy. People may get a little inebriated, but we'll make sure to have plenty of people on guard who aren't drinking. Alexandria will bring the main food."

-----------------------------

"Baby, I'm home!", Rick hollered out for Michonne. No response. "Michonne?! I'm home. Michonne?!"

He could hear a muffled yell coming from upstairs. As he walked up, he realized it was coming from the bathroom. He opened to door to find Michonne undressing as the bath water ran.

In her black bra and panties, she approached Rick to greet him with a soft kiss. "Hi. How did it go?"

Rick unhooked her bra, tossing it to the side somewhere. "It went great. Everybody's on the same page."

"Good." She removed her panties and began to unbutton Rick's shirt. He kicked off his boots as she undid his pants and blue boxers. "You and your boxers."

"What's wrong with my boxers?", he joked back.

She giggled. "Nothing. Nothing."

A smirk grew on his face. "Something apparently..."

"Nothing. It's just you only ever wear one color."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Nothing! I think it's cute you're so set in your ways." Michonne placed another kiss on his lips before leading him to the tub. He got in first so she could lean back against his chest.

This bathtub was extremely small. Probably too small for the two of them. They didn't care.

"Anyway. I think things are coming along nicely."

"Yeah?", Michonne turned off the water. "How's it all gonna work?"

"Well we can start things at 6. The bridge opening first. There's a banner being made for us in charge to cut. Hilltop has a Polaroid camera we can use to capture the moment. I'll figure out someone to take pictures. Then's our wedding. Gabriel will say some things, we do our vows- oh speaking of vows. I don't wanna brag buuuuut...." He dramatically blew air out of his mouth. "It's gonna blow you away. You've got some competition. I know you use to take creative writing in college and all but... what I got. It's poetry."

"You finished your vows already?"

"No but I got a good start. In between breaks at the bridge I would write. What about you?"

"I haven't started mine yet."

"You what?", he sounded slightly offended.

"Well I kind of have an idea... of what I want it to be. It's just all in my head right now, you know?", she attempted to comfort him.

He paused for a moment. "Well... anyway. After the wedding we do the party. I thought we'd do homemade pizzas for food. Everybody likes pizza right?"

"I sure do."

"Okay, pizzas it is then. We can do five different flavors, give the people a little variety to choose from. Hilltop is bringing liquor. I'll have plenty of people on guard, don't worry about that. Kingdom is bringing desserts. We'll have a feast. We'll have music. Everybody is gonna have a good time."

Michonne chuckled, reaching back with one hand to cup Rick's face. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much."

"You know... you don't have to throw a big wedding to prove that. I'd be okay with just you, me, Judith, and Gabriel on that bridge."

"You don't want a big wedding?"

"No, I'm not saying that." She scooted around to fully face him. "I just mean... a destination wedding at the end of the world is something I never could have imagined. I feel lucky enough just getting to marry you."

Rick smiled. "No, if anyone's lucky it's me. I'll never understand how I got so lucky."

She looked at him amusededly and grabbed their soap, lathering him down generously. "Wait, what the hell are we suppose to wear?"

"Oh I got that covered, too. I spoke around to some of the woman and they're all gonna get together with their best dresses for you to choose from. Tomorrow at noon in the church."

"Woooow. Look at you.", she teased. "You really know what you're doing."

He laughed. "I'm just working with what I got."

"What about you, what will you wear? Got some sort of secret suit?"

Rick laughed again. "No. I've got a nice light blue button down. And some slacks. The theme is light blue."

"There's a theme?!"

"Well yeah. There's gotta be a theme."

Michonne grinned.

Rick took notice. "What is it? What's that smile?"

"I'm just... happy."

Rick's heart began to swell. That's all he ever wanted for her, to be happy and safe. It was all coming true for him. "Come here." He pulled her in for what was suppose to be a peck on the lips. Before he could stop himself he had her out of the tub and in his arms heading straight for the bed.

-----------------------------

"Rick, can I speak to you for a minute?"

Rick let out a sigh. He was much too busy lighting the obscene amount of candles all over the place. "Yeah... Eugene. What do you need?"

"It's about the music."

Rick paused to give Eugene a death stare. "I thought you told me you could handle it." He didn't mean to be short with him, but they had a very limited time frame and he was stressing to get things done on time.

"I can. I am. I will. But... I need to know what it is that you want to be played. I am not not a mind reader."

"Eugene, I don't know... just play easy-to-listen to stuff. Ask Rosita or someone."

"Are you doing a first dance?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Well don't you at least want to pick your first dance song?"

Rick set the lighter down. "Yeah."

"Follow me."

He followed as Eugene led him to the large table a few feet away from the bridge with a cd player and speakers on it. "So I took the liberty of finding a few albums for you to choose from."

"Okay"

"We've got the soundtrack album to Grease, a Kelly Clarkson album called All I Ever Wanted, one called Best of the Beach Boys, another call-"

"Eugene, I have to get back to decorating. Let me see." He grabbed the Grease CD off the table, turning it over to see the track list. A slight smile grew onto his face. "Number 3. That's our first dance." He handed the album to Eugene, quickly walking back to the bridge.

"Rick, it's time!" Rosita yelled out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Already?!" He looked at his watch. There was never enough time these days. "Shit." He knew he was probably sweating through his shirt at this point. Whether it was from the heat or from anxiety, he couldn't be sure.

#michonne grimes #rick grimes #richonne #the walking dead #twd #the ones who live #towl

[agoodroughandtumble]

Vienna - Zoro x Reader

Status: Part 2 of 2 [Part 1 is Sanji x Reader] Summary: Inspired by the Ultravox song - Reader is going through a break up. Zoro offers some words of comfort Warning: 18+, Language, angst

Your heart hurt. Your nose hurt from all of the less than preferable tissues. Your chest hurt from heaving. Your head hurt from crying so much. And you were fucking exhausted. Not just from crying or feeling sorry for yourself – although you had done plenty of that. You were exhausted from everyone on the crew knowing your business and constantly evading their questions, shrugging of their pitying looks with a joke and a laissez-faire attitude and a spring in your step, and pretending that everything was a-ok. You wanted to drown, to suffocate, to get crushed under as much rubble as your heart had been buried under. But, more importantly, you wanted to get drunk and forget about everything. You wanted to dance and laugh and flirt and not even remember the name of the person who had broken your heart less than a week ago.

“Do you want to get absolutely shit-faced?” You asked Zoro, although it wasn’t really a question as you sat down next to him on the deck and placed two bottles of sake in between the two of you.

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea? Given the…” he searched for the right word. “Situation?”

You scoffed and took a swig. “As if you need an excuse to drink.”

The swordsman studied you curiously. You had been surprisingly upbeat the last couple of days, uncharacteristically so, which had only made sense when Nami had let slip your sort of on-off-whatever-it-was-relationship had ended. Not your decision. Everyone else thought you were taking it in your stride. Zoro knew you well enough to know otherwise. “No,” he said trying to prize the bottle from your hand, “But maybe a reason to get shit-faced.”

You pouted. Normally Zoro of all people would find any excuse to have a drink with you but for some frustrating reason he was choosing the worst time to stop playing ball. You took another sip – relishing the burn – before passing the bottle to your slightly begrudging drinking partner. “Well if you don’t want to you can fuck off. I can drink perfectly well by myself.”

You let out a small, irritated sigh, clenching your fists slightly. Being a dick to Zoro hadn’t been your plan – especially when you were just being pathetic and taking everything out on the only person who would actually understand that you were Not Doing Well. “I’m sorry. I’m just-”

“I know.”

Silence.

You couldn’t work out whether it was out of awkwardness or a mutual understanding – either way you were unable to think of anything of anything to say him – to explain how much you just wanted company. Maybe his company. Fuck. Maybe you were already shit-faced. Still, you picked up the other bottle – it would be rude to let Zoro drink by himself after all.

With each second that passed you could feel the tension building. Irritatingly, Zoro seemed completely unaware, and completely engaged with his bottle.

“Turns out I’m not good at break ups.” You half laughed, trying to relief some of the ever building tension.

“I don’t think anyone is. Especially when it wasn’t their choice.”

You tensed, his words going straight for the jugular. Anger began to rise at his callousness. “Right. Well, thanks for that.”

He remained unresponsive.

Your fists were now clenching so tightly you could feel fingernails digging into your palm. “Fuck, you’re such an arsehole.” Your tone was deflated, accepting. Of course this was all the emotional depth you were going to get.

Another silence.

Fuck, you hated him. Hated that for some foolish reason he would be anything other than himself. You angrily swigged at the sake in the vain hope that at some point it would start to kick in and suddenly you would forget all of your troubles.

“I don’t get it.”

You glared at him. “Get what?”

“Him. You. I don’t get it.”

Your eyes narrowed. If he was just going to be insulting you would much rather go back to drinking in silence. “Explain.” Unsurprisingly you were in no mood for niceties.

Zoro shrugged, taking another drink. “You’re… you. And he’s an arsehole. Obviously it wasn’t going to work.”

You sighed. He was right. Of course he was right. Zoro knew you better than anyone else. You let your head rest against his shoulder. It was pointless to deny the obvious any longer. Your fingers fidgeted with the bottle label. “I just didn’t think I was that repulsive.” Leaning against his shoulder you could feel a low chuckle reverberating. Despite yourself, you felt your heart warm a little.

“You’re not repulsive.”

“I’m just an idiot.” Brushing some stray hairs from your face you took another drink before speaking again, “You know you don’t actually have to indulge me. You of all people can tell me to fuck off and go to bed.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Zoro replied, pointedly ignoring everything else you had said. “You just have terrible taste in men.”

“Not always.” You sat up, shuffling away from him slightly so you could sit opposite him. Despite your best efforts, despite everything you were telling yourself to ignore it wasn’t just the sake causing your cheeks to blush as his eyes met yours. You bit your lip – feeling as though you were on a cliff’s edge about to jump over – either to dive into the cool abyss or crash head first into the jagged rocks. But Zoro was there. So, so close. And despite everything, you knew deep down there was one specific reason why you had wanted to drown your sorrows with him and no one else. There was one specific reason all of your relationships failed and Zoro was the one picking up the pieces afterwards. There was one specific reason you so desperately wanted Zoro.

The kiss was chaste, nervous, begging him to respond. He didn’t. You pulled away sharply, an all too different flush on your cheeks and the lingering feeling of his lips on yours and all the guilt that came with it.

#opla #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n

[sysig]

A hero is only as good as his weapons, so make ‘em count (Patreon)

#Doodles #Original #Another idea smol and I are working on together :D Been a bit! #She came up with the concept on this one and I fell in love with it <3 She's very cool hehe #If you're familiar with the game Minit it has Something of a similar premise - not the same strict time pressure but yes on the time loop #Y'ever notice how in some games it seems like the wandering trader or traveling shop seems to come upon you rather than the other way around #:3c Hm ♪ Wonder how they'd know where you were gonna be :3c #The crux is that you play as the weapons shop owner and you're responsible for supplying the hero and his team with weapons! #Except the BBEG has gotten wise to how the hero keeps defeating him and it sick of it - so the shop owner is cursed to be in a time loop! #I love the concept <3 It sounds so fun to play in and there's still plenty of room to think about the mechanics and how it would be played #As well as the art design! :D #We threw around some character concepts - she's really into Baldur's Gate 3 at the moment so of course they had some influence in hers hehe #Only got the starting party for the moment but there are plans for a full team of 4 plus the shopkeep >:3c And various other NPCs lol #A lot of the gameplay would basically boil down to being a bartering simulator hehe ♪ #Very RPG trade-this-for-that style quests - under a time limit! Hehe #Since it's the type of game that pretty much requires replaying sections time-loop-style it's all about how quickly you can trial and error #And then hightail it to where you need to be lol #I think we were also tossing around a nap mechanic to skip right to the time loop reset in case you mess up a run haha #I gotta get back to Majora's Mask at some point I swear #We still have a good bit of concept work to do on the art side of things - she's also been really into pixel art lately and I love pixel art #I also managed to pick up a full release of one of the RPGMakers :D So that's an exciting possibility! #I haven't learned most of its ins and outs yet but I do know About importing custom assets at the very least >:3c #Same with Novelty and I haven't done that yet either lol - all in due time! I hope!!

[ruckusresourcebin]

LAYERS OF FEAR 2 SENTENCE STARTERS. starters from Bloober's game Layers of Fear 2, a psychological horror thriller game about an actor heeding the call of an enigmatic director. Some lines have been changed for the sake of easier interactions.

cw: verbal abuse, mentions of animal cruelty, implications of child abuse, themes of identity loss, self - deprecating thoughts, implications of suicide ideation

" stay awake. you will play your part. you will stay awake. "

" sleep is a poor excuse. and so are you. "

" all preparations have been made. your toys await you upstairs. "

" time waits for no one, actor. do not waste ours. act. "

" so long i have struggled to finish what was started. i had nearly lost hope. and yet, here we are. "

" remember what we talked about. focus on what you do best. "

" build the character. trust me, it'll be worth it. "

" the room has been set up as per your request. "

" one, in his time, plays the parts of many men. "

" you observe the others, while the others watch you. "

" you're expected to behave properly, wandering through worlds that aren't really there. you put on masks and adjusts accordingly. "

" each mask is a character. each character -- a layer. layers upon layers, calling out to you. "

" you must build the character you were meant to portray, or lose yourself completely. "

" you stand, on a stage where every man must play a part. and yours . . . is a sad one. "

" as per the director's request, this section of the ship has been closed off to all passengers and crew. "

" did you sleep well? "

" look, once you get there, just do what you have to do. get to the set, and build this character for him. "

" i know how many times you've told me you hate the sea. and i'm telling you, this gig is just too good to pass up. "

" did you check the lower decks this time? i swear to God, if we find stowaways again this time, you'll never set foot on this ship again. "

" never met him in person, but a few people have. that's why you hear all these rumors . . . about him being broken, disfigured . . . all that nonsense. "

" acting, if done well, is a scary business. it takes immense courage, to lose consciousness of your own self and not just reenact, but become the character you are portraying. few can muster that courage. "

" it was as if the person onstage dissolved before my very eyes, letting the character burst into existence. "

" just think of me as an admirer of your talent. "

" your performances . . . they speak to me like no other have. "

" to say that you are my favorite actor would be a gross understatement. "

" guy's got a bit of a . . . reputation. "

" supposed to be some new method for building the character. bunch of artsy-fartsy bullshit if you ask me. "

" just, go with it. guy doesn't take no for an answer. "

" so, what if the guy is a little nuts? he's a director, it comes with the job! "

" what's he gonna do? kill ya? "

" i think it's all an act. "

" the world's a stage, but the play is badly cast. "

" there is always a way, a light in the darkness . . . "

" do you remember? "

" before the world told you who you should be, do you remember who you were? "

" come. i will make you remember. "

" so many have tried to be a part of my greatest work, as if there was ever a choice. "

" only one can bring this character to life. only one is broken enough to build it. "

" i believe in you. "

" we have to get out of this godforsaken prison, before we rot! "

" are we really going? [name], i'm . . . "

" i'm back, me hearty! scouted out the whole area! "

" looks like there's a trail we can follow . . . left by fellow pirates no doubt! to lead us to safe harbor! "

" there she is, me hearty! the fastest vessel to ever sail the seven seas, ready to take us to the land of the Flame . . . "

" i don't see any sails . . . "

" shh! we must make our way aboard, quietly . . . "

" [name], i want to go home. "

" be your heart soaked in doubt, or a fire burning within? "

" we always come with a burden. "

" voices, faces, figures from the past . . . wrapped in an heavy, old bag. the first thing to do is to get rid of it. "

" a little spark is all it takes to set the human soul on fire. "

" an act of creation always begins with an act of destruction. "

" one life ends, another begins. one life ends. "

" a life for a life. one must be taken. the right one. "

" do not doubt. act. "

" no, you look but do not see. shoot her. "

" take. the. shot. "

" a story as old as time. who are we to rewrite it? who are we to deny it? "

" we must look deeper. we must do better. we must. "

" this chart will lead us away from peril and into safe harbor! "

" it takes courage to stand up to someone stronger than you. "

" i was never brave enough, but she was. "

" only one of us knows what must be done. only one of us knows what is at stake. the other . . . doesn't need to know, doesn't need to understand. only to listen, and act. "

" [name], i think there's something in the dark . . . "

" sod it, if the chief wants it checked so bad, he can bloody well do it himself! "

" [name], i'm scared. "

" you should be scared! you know what happens if they find us! they'll send us back! "

" heard you got off to a rough start. i know you have your idea of who this character should be. it's your right. you're the star of the show. "

" just remember, the director might be an odd duck, but at the end of the day, you're on the same team. "

" inside every actor is the one part they were born to play, the one character they were meant to build. "

" chip away the bloody marble, give form to the formless, until all that remains . . . is the truth. "

" how far can you go? how deep can you descend? "

" the thing you seek is still there. buried, hidden away. locked in a vault, a prison of yourself. "

" you try, and fail, to understand. "

" a hungry animal does not think. it knows. it needs. it acts. "

" where reason dare not go, instinct prevails. "

" you must leave the stillness of the mind, and brave the storm of teeth and claws. only then, can you find the key and claim your prize. "

" yeah, uh . . . could we take this again? there's something wrong with the picture. i think you must've moved. "

" you just don't look quite yourself . . . "

" excuse me, i'm such a big fan! could you please sign my -- oh, i'm sorry. i must've mistook you for someone else. "

" when chasing dreams, we often find ourselves in a nightmare. "

" that'll do for now. it's time to eat. "

" but, [name], the food . . . it's gone! "

" tragedy strikes at the heart, despair consumes the soul . . . a life crumbles. "

" what's done is done. no use crying. "

" we need to venture forth and find fresh supplies. "

" here, take this. it'll help you find your strength. "

" one suffers for another. another takes their place. the machine goes on. "

" time marches on. death turns to decay. "

" no man is an island, but one can become a vessel, to carry within it the flame of another. "

" it warms the heart, it feeds the soul. it makes the world so bright. "

" a stolen flame burns strong, burns quick. a stolen flame . . . burns out. "

" we must not forget great art carries a heavy cost. to lose oneself in a role sometimes leads to losing oneself, period. "

" looks like the rats got to it before us. "

" shh, we're not alone here . . . "

" ugh . . . it stinks! but . . . it looks like someone took a bite. "

" come, let's not wait for it to come back. "

" something's got the animals all spooked. might be they sense the storm coming? "

" look! there's something there! over there! can't you see it? "

" no, this isn't what i saw. you have to believe me! "

" we're out on the edge of the world, [name]. nothing is as it seems. "

" this one's empty too. we need to keep looking. "

" [name] . . . i mean, captain. there's something out there, in the dark. "

" hush now, and stay behind me. i won't let anything happen to you. "

" such an opportunity, such responsibility, to unleash what has been trapped for so long. "

" i can hear it howling, rattling its cage, dying to get out. "

" leave it, we're not that desperate yet. [name]! i said, leave it! "

" a heavy cost must be paid, when one destroys the balance. a heavy cost . . . "

" not all lives are created equal. the life of one can outweigh the lives of many. "

" when everything is at stake, when lives hang in the balance, reason becomes weakness. "

" trust your instinct. tip the scales. "

" reason poisons your mind, makes you weak. "

" do not give in. do not let go. "

" the life that was meant to be, that life that never found its flame . . . weak, weightless. worthless. "

" some things should be left behind. some things. "

" you didn't take it. you'll starve. "

" you let go. you'll regret it. "

" you gave up. you'll never make it. "

" i once saw this boy drown a baby rat in the gutter. i didn't let his head up until he promised to never do it again. there is always somebody stronger than you. "

" it's no good. we'll never find any food! and it's all my fault! "

" [name], look at me! look at me! i will see us through this! don't you ever doubt me! "

" i know you have your orders and i mean no disrespect. i'm just saying, the chief is being unreasonable. he'd let all that food rot in the hold as long as it's accounted for. "

" they're decent, God fearing folks. not one thief among them. but when people hear their bellies, rumbling, it's easy to put them over the edge. "

" maybe there's some food here . . . "

" did you hear that?! this way! "

" it's like . . . i was never there. "

" remember our treasure? it's not far. this way! "

" watch out, something's coming! you need to keep moving! "

" what happened? i heard the director's furious. ready to call the whole thing off. "

" it seems you two have a completely different vision of who the lead character should be. "

" i hope you know what you're doing. "

" a house is built of walls and beams. a home is built of fears and dreams... "

" what's past is prologue. what seeps into the earth becomes fodder, a fuel for the flame, the lifeblood for the roots of existence . . . "

" roots . . . you must cut them away. only then, can you be truly free. "

" but . . . how does it do that? a sea couldn't fit in there! "

" it's the spirit of the sea. it captures its strength, its calm, its freedom. so it can live on, forever. "

" i'll be sending over a new reel tomorrow. pirate film. give this one a good spin. "

" more screenings means more arses in the seats, and more reason for me to keep paying you. "

" come, faithful servant, for tonight we brew a ghoulish concoction : the world's strangest stew! "

" he eats a lot. a WHOLE lot. "

" this one time, he almost shot himself out of a cannon! "

" seasoned by sadness, burnt from within, ravaged by madness, rotten with sin . . . "

" hollowed by longing, hardened by loss . . . once slick and polished, has now lost all its gloss. "

" torn up by conflict, ravaged by war, flawed on the surface, warped to its core . . . "

" look at it bubble, look at it shake . . . "

" the beast! it's awake! "

" look, [name]! father's screening the Black Wanderer! "

" movie's almost over. time to go. "

" i've been getting complaints about noises up in the balcony. people are scared the damned thing is gonna fall on their bloody heads. "

" i told you to keep it off limits! "

" careful! don't step into the light, or he'll see you. "

" don't you hide from me! "

" i know you've been sneaking into the theater again! what did i tell you about going in there while i'm working?! "

" she likes boys a lot. and girls too! "

" she's very friendly. maybe a bit too much . . . "

" i told you to hide it! i told you to keep it safe! "

" how could you let him take it?! it's all we have left of her! "

" you have to find it, and bring it back. "

" little scum . . . you were always bad luck. a blight upon this family. i gave up everything and what do i get in return?! "

" a lucky break, an ace up my sleeve. that's all i need! "

" a blackened heart, uprooted by tragedy, skewered by pain. that's all you've ever given me . . . that's all you've ever been good for . . . "

" keep her close to your heart. never forget her. she gave everything for you. prove that it was worth it, that you weren't a mistake . . . "

" weak, useless, no good to anyone . . . it was like, i was never there. it would've been better . . . if i was never there . . . "

" shh, be quiet . . . just watch. "

" let's go! father will be leaving the projection room soon . . . "

" as to my prospects, the doctor remains cautiously optimistic. "

" i admit, the pains have been getting stronger as of late, but i dare not complain. compared to what you've been through, my 'suffering' is barely worth mentioning. "

" i think father's been trying to fix his old camera. "

" when the world becomes too cruel, we look for a place to hide. "

" the dark can be many things. it can be refuge, or it can be hell. it is whatever you make it. "

" the dark can be a silent place. silence can be empty, or it can speak volumes. "

" the dark can be a lonely place. solitude can be a sentence, or it can be a companion. "

" sometimes, it's better to hide, to let the dark in. "

" father's coming! quick, get in! i said, get in! "

" hush, it's already started. "

" come on, he'll get mad if we're not back before him! "

" haha, what is that thing? "

" i thought i knew, but . . . now i'm not sure. "

" oh, [name], it has to take shape in your head first. otherwise, it'll just stay . . . formless. "

" words cannot express how overjoyed i am to finally hear from you. "

" when i had heard of what happened, my heart sank. it was as if a terrible shadow had eclipsed my life. but now that i know you're still with us, i feel that shadow has lifted. "

" goddamn bastards . . . i gave them everything . . . and what do i get in return? a bloody piece of rust! "

" this is where you come in! go on, pick it up! "

" it seems the tables have turned! curse you and your mutinous puppets! i will not make this easy for you. "

" if i am to meet my end, it will be by your hand, by your . . . action! "

" play your part, villain! i'm waiting! "

" that's right, don't hesitate! you know i wouldn't! "

" show me your strong! like me! "

" spare me your mercy, i would not show you any. "

" [name] . . . ? are you alright? "

" [name], i thought you were gone. "

" who i was a moment ago is no more. now, i can become someone else. "

" if i could sit around all day, i would, but there's always more pirating to be had! the captains says so! "

" watch, this is the best part! "

" come, we can't stay any longer . . . "

" steady your tongue! i can be whoever i choose to be! if your little mind says otherwise, then to the depths with it! "

" for the last time, i'm not replacing the bloody projector! it's your job to keep it up and running. "

" quit your whining and do your goddamn job while you still have it. "

" he loves gold above all else. "

" you were always there, following in my footsteps. silent, smiling sadly . . . like a warm shadow. "

" sometimes, when darkness fell across town, we'd sneak out of the house. "

" i'd look up, but i didn't see the stars. what i saw was . . . a thousand souls on fire. "

" your eyes would light up. the stars were already there. at that moment, i knew you had it in you. "

" you . . . the silent dreamer, dreaming that a day would come when we could leave it all behind. the journey of a lifetime! a light on the horizon! a flame to call your own . . . "

" you had it in you, to make a thousand souls burn. make them feel . . . alive, make them live forever! a thousand lives . . . but never mine. never mine . . . "

" there we were, dreaming our souls away into the night sky. "

" a cruel shade eclipsed the sun. our dream was gone . . . something else took its place. "

" oh no . . . what will [name] do now? "

" one day, we'll get to see how it ends. "

" [name] . . . what if something bad happens? what if i can't find you? "

" shh . . . listen to my voice. hold it deep inside, and i will always be there for you. "

" if you want to make it to the end, just remember . . . the monster may be scary, but it's sad too. because, at the end of the day, it is just as lost as we are. "

" a little spark is all it takes. "

" why can't you just leave us alone?! "

" you fill the boy's head with nonsense, as if he wasn't useless enough! "

" you're . . . you're the one who's useless, you cruel one - eyed freak! "

" what did you just call me?! "

" get away from him, you . . . you monster! "

" [name] . . . it's today. "

" i'm going to see her. take care of the house, while i'm gone. "

" what about [name]? it's their day too. "

" it's . . . all i could afford. "

" please . . . help me . . . it hurts, it hurts . . . "

" i can't take it anymore. make it stop. "

" come on, there's nothing left for us here. "

" is . . . is it over? "

" it's only just beginning. "

" gotta be honest, i don't like what i'm hearing. "

" i've been told that you didn't even show up on the set, and the director's mad as hell. "

" i don't think he likes where you're taking the character. "

" this'll all be over soon enough, one way or another. "

" go all the way. let your heart bleed. "

" step back. breathe. remember. "

" there shall be a vast shout, and then . . . a vaster silence. "

" we are so close. i can feel it. "

" there can be no doubt. no hesitation. only will. unbreakable. "

" [name] . . . captain, i found it! but . . . it's empty. "

" go back to the hideout. i'll keep searching on my own. i said, go. "

" but . . . i can help! "

" go on, be there for her, like she was for you. "

" from one flame to another . . . but never your own. "

" find the character, lose yourself. "

" some parts are not to be played. "

" there are some things that should not be. should not be . . . broken. "

" cheer up. you're alright. you're not hurt. you're not upset. nothing really happened. you just need to be more careful . . . "

" why am i always the one?! why weren't you there?! "

" why didn't you protect me?! why did you let this monster . . . ?! "

" useless! worthless! i hate you! "

" it's alright, things happen. bad things . . . i am still here. this is not the end. this pain will pass, the scars will fade . . . "

" the flame will burn it all away. "

" you're weak! you're worthless! you're nothing! "

" we were meant to live forever. and i will. i will be forever. "

" forever the dream. forever the wound. forever . . . you. "

" do you hear it? the tide rises in the veins of the world. it comes for you. don't fight it. "

" do not go into that savage fire. it will never be conquered. it will never be tamed. it will never be yours. "

" do not go into that reckless flame. it was not meant for you. it will never let you be. "

" your heart burns, your soul burns away . . . yet, you choose to go deeper. "

" you can never have it. "

" [name] . . . please, come back . . . i need you. "

" huh, that's a funny name. "

" can you help me find my sister? "

" i was drowning . . . in a sea of thirst. i was feasting . . . but never full. "

" my teeth are yours to bare. "

" she's been gone a long time. i'm scared something's happened to her. "

" it - it's not my fault! she told me to go back! "

" stripped of all my riches, i sailed the seas of nothingness. "

" my debt to you . . . i will repay. here is my pound of flesh. "

" i was never one to serve . . . but, for you? i swallow my pride. "

" i come . . . from a sea of displeasure. i longed for affection. now, i live to please you. "

" my hands . . . became the Devil's playthings. put them to some use. "

" y - you're right. it is my fault. "

" you can still be saved. you can live on . . . forever. "

" lead the way. i will do what needs to be done. i'm the captain now. "

" lead us, oh captain! we will follow you across the seven seas! "

" it's just you and me, captain. "

" here we are again . . . you almost had it. "

" she lied to me . . . "

" it won't be me, when you see me again. "

" the ship's maiden voyage turned out to be its last. "

" who the fuck am i?! "

" forever . . . an endless sea, stretching into eternity . . . restless, roaring . . . terrifying. "

" for years, you have learned to hide, to flow with the tide. "

" now that a flame has been lit, you know . . . there is no other way. "

" the eyes of eternity are once again upon you. "

" this place . . . it feels so familiar. like, i've been here before. and yet, i cannot find my way . . . "

" do you see now? you tried to fix me. instead, you broke yourself. "

" this place . . . it sickens me. "

" with all its clutter and confusion, it is a monument to your weakness, a portrait of your indecision. a wreckage of what never truly was. "

" it is broken, hollow. just like you. "

" you tried so hard to bring me back. you called out to me in the void, but . . . something else answered back. "

" a broken body can be rebuilt, but some wounds go deeper . . . so much deeper . . . "

" how long has it been? i don't remember anymore. so hard . . . to remember. "

" i feel myself slipping, growing thin . . . "

" it keeps growing. it won't let me go. "

" poor little [name]. poor weak, pathetic little [name]. always the victim, always the burden. "

" i guess i never stood a chance, did i? neither of us did. "

" we never should have lived this long. forever is a very long time. "

" sometimes, it's better not to be . . . to burn away completely. "

" there is no place for me here. only you, whoever that is. "

" i hope you'll be brave this time. i don't think i can. "

" you . . . you cannot help me. not anymore. "

" this was to be my final work, to reclaim what was lost. to let go of the stolen flame, and reignite the true one. "

" the spark . . . it's almost gone. it is lost, hopeless. just like you. "

" a life that was never yours, dreams you had no right to dream . . . too scared to be yourself, too weak to be anyone else. "

" wherever i go, it follows. i cannot be free of it. "

" it keeps shifting, changing . . . and i change with it. "

" an empty shell cannot live forever. it cannot live at all. it can only be. "

"it's always there, one step behind, stretching over me, pulling me in . . . "

" i'm shedding skin, changing . . . into what? "

" sometimes, it's better to find your own way, to accept what was lost. to accept the pain . . . and feed your own fire. "

" how many lives have your buried, just by existing? existing . . . but never being. "

" wouldn't it be better if you just went away? "

" how many times have i tried to put the pieces back together . . . just to watch them fall apart? "

" i am done. all of us. we cannot be forever. "

" the sound in the deep . . . it's growing louder. something's coming. "

" finally, i understand. the way out . . . it's here, in me. "

" how long can a man burn, before he turns to ash? how could you know? "

" of all the wasted years, all the pain it took to bring you here . . . you don't even know who you are! "

" how many times must a man die before he can truly live? how many times?! "

" look at it. this is what happens when you fail to take control. "

" look at it! twisted! formless! just like you! "

" it crumbles, as it must. and when the time comes, will you crumble as well? "

" the boy that never speaks . . . have you found a voice? soon . . . the world will know. "

" it's bound to be . . . a night to remember. shame i won't be there to see it. "

" you run, but do you know the way? "

" you build one character, you destroy the other, but which is which? "

" you follow reason. you see through it. you cut away the strings. "

" you struggle against the current. you fight, against all odds. "

" in the end, there is no right or wrong. "

" listen to me! you have to go! "

" i'm not leaving! i - i'll find a way to reach you! "

" you're strong, stronger than you know. "

" we'll be together again. no matter how long it takes, i will find you! "

#rp sentence starters #sentence starters #rp meme #rp prompts #rp resource #ask meme #inbox meme #askbox meme #( source. ) bloober's layers of fear 2 #// haha finally it's complete #// you can tell i only did one ending and i stuck to most of the main game content #// i didn't include any of the collectible info or somesuch #// i think there's plenty to work with as is so i hope some of you enjoy this!

[lapeaudelamemoire]

Wrote my one-page summary of academic achievements etc. for the reference request my temp supervisor asked for.

In writing these cover letters or the like I am always dumbfounded by how little it accommodates for trauma or independent study. I have an unni (older female Korean friend) who, because of her C-PTSD, is unable to continue studying despite greatly wanting to, and has trouble managing to continue her life just in day-to-day life. I find it so hard to 'sell' myself when there are huge gaps of years in my life where I have been able to do little more than struggle through what I don't know how to 'market' or 'package/present as a strength' in these academic or professional arenas. When you ask for my life experience so you can write me a reference, what do I write? 'Survived multiple sexual assaults and rapes'? 'Daily attempt to overcome my PTSD as a result of a near-deportation experience'? Do people understand how much or how many years these things can debilitate you?

Like I know plenty of people walk around with these things having happened to them and still somehow function while going to school and whatnot, but I couldn't, and still have trouble doing so. I remember being coaxed to go back to school by my ex-best friend in secondary school after all of that had happened in my teenage years, but I just couldn't. How do I explain the black hole fog that has consumed me for so many years while trying to sell myself as a functioning, profitable member of society?

Some of us die after things like these happen. I don't know how to say my greatest achievement is still being here in this sort of academic context, or that of my life experiences these are huge and heavy but I got through them and these are what have shaped and continue to shape me, and are the lion's share of what has taken up my life. If I add them up the number of years that these have taken up number at least half a decade (literally just counting one event/per year).

And I did work some, just very early on - Benjamin Button'ed the whole thing. Worked at 15 (does that count as child labour lmao), worked till I was 17/18. I haven't done volunteer work or busted my ass getting a sparkling CV because for most of that time I have just been trying to survive (mostly done while and through reading/studying, to make sense of it, etc.). 14 - dropped out of school bc of what happened at 13 (first sexual assault). 15 - second sexual assault. Still went to intern at an international magazine press. 16 - third sexual assault. Started working as a shop assistant. Still finished my iGCSEs. 17 - sexual harassment at work while at a bar/bistro, went on to do waitressing elsewhere instead. 18 - went to Norway to study and did that full-time for 2 years. (Wanted to work but couldn't find a job since I didn't speak Norwegian fluently enough. Had to be counselled about this, actually.) Graduated at 20. Went on gap year at 21 while actually also doing Open Uni - then had that near-deportation experience. Immediately went into researching unis anyway at 22, only that because of uni start times and visas I didn't start till I was 23. Learned Polish by myself in that time. Studied full-time without a job because if I can focus on just that, why not? And I graduated anyway, having finished my coursework early in 2.5 years but the graduation ceremony was after summer hols. Started this degree at 26. Will finish this year after 1.5 years, only extended beyond the one year because of their fuck-up (which they acknowledged!) in a unit my first term. The only pauses I've had between studying were because of start times. And if we didn't have to work, would we? Is it not alright to spend the time trying to make some sense of grief, or to study on your own? If someone said to me their greatest achievements included recovering from PTSD once after the things that happened to me in my adolescence that would be the most important thing I would note.

So much of my life and what I've really done and profited from have not been done watched by anyone or institutions. All the years I spent reading and studying by myself on things that I rarely find place to talk about. If I add up the years I've done plenty in studying - I just never got a degree for any of it.

It's not like I've done nothing. I just haven't done it societally-conventionally. I don't want to have be 'forgiven' for not making myself work when I didn't and don't have the bandwidth for it. Isn't it called studying full-time? Why am I supposed to also work on the side? Why can I not study by myself in that time on the side (which is what I have been doing)? Why do I feel ashamed or this need to explain myself? Fuck.

#idk. i realise this is possibly a very privileged take in terms of not having to work to support myself to eat etc. #but still. my mental health is. what it is. and i have trouble functioning at the level that people expect i guess despite that privilege #ive studied plenty on deportation etc. by myself; philosophy and languages; but i cant put that on a CV #without it having been 'witnessed' by some 'authority' #if we lived in a world with UBI this would just be normal i would hope #time to just study what you like by yourself #but youd probably still have to 'contribute' #personal #i think at some pt i studied for and intended to take the SAT as well so i could apply for US unis #cant remember if i did do the SAT in the end? maybe i did? but then i realised US unis are hella expensive and dropped the idea

[latinokaeya-moving]

i watched a vid the other day of this person reviewing the ‘im glad my mom died’ memoir and they talked a lot abt the like. stylistic/writing choices made by the author that worked really well and i enjoyed that approach to a book review bc i like hearing abt what Works when writing you know so i watched another of their vids for a different celebrity’s memoir and this one was a lot more critical (they very obviously didn’t like this person but idk how much that rlly impacted the review itself) and while i appreciated the examples given of like. how Not to write/stuff that sometimes doesn’t work or doesn’t flow as well they started bringing out really technical rules of grammar/writing on talked abt how it was All Wrong and how the memoir was in desperate need of editing bc how could anyone have let this be published

and it just got me thinking bc like. i’m not gonna say i’m an expert on the english language or anything like this person very obviously is more educated on that then me but idk. i feel like i’m generally a decent judge on whether a sentence flows well/sounds right and i think im able to make a distinction between something being technically grammatically incorrect but still sounding good and having an obvious reason for being written that way vs something being wrong technically And that affecting it’s readability or impact of what it’s meant to Do stylistically. like idk ig that’s just the way that person reviews books but it just felt so extremely limited and constrained bc i know i regularly Choose to sometimes write in a style that isn’t wholly correct or ‘proper’ english but it’s not bc im like being deliberately obtuse or don’t know the rules. sometimes i just think the rules are a little dumb n that my writing will sound n flow better the way i do it.

and idk i just think it was a little annoying to watch in their example bc i listened to all the lines they critiqued n Why/How they were Totally Wrong and i couldn’t help but be like okay… but they sound fine to me. like you obviously got what was being said and it read well so…? although i guess whether it sounds good or flows well is more objective so like they were entitled to their own opinion and all i just didn’t like the way they positioned writing as something that must follows these arbitrary rules as if not following them means anything or has any moral value you know…

#x #lol does this make sense… i hope it does #idk it’s just like. i mean obviously there’s some general conventions you follow to make sure your writing is coherent and Makes Sense #but so many other rando rules r just dressing you know… #plenty of authors write in a style that doesn’t completely abide by grammatical conventions and like. that doesn’t make them Bad Writers #they just made an active choice to not follow those rules bc they thought what they wanted to do would work better for their writing #and thats. idk that’s a good thing to me i guess. #again i’m not saying i’m an expert or professional by any means obviously. and i don’t have any real training or like. took classes outside #of whatever i learned in school lmao #but i for the most part like my writing style. i moan sometimes abt sucking at certain things but i genuinely don’t believe my writing is #bad quality or anything. and i Do make the choice to ignore certain rules n stuff all the time just bc i think my writing wouldn’t sound as #good otherwise 🤷 idk. it just felt very holier than thou lol. maybe it just rubbed me the wrong way bc of that #the vid n youtuber doesn’t even matter or anything but yeah. id just been mulling over this for a hot second so. long ramble !

[bmpmp3]

i am still hoping for that 1/3 scale vinyl girl imomodoll's sculptor was teasing like a year ago................... imagine the objecthead dolls you could make with that thang

#you could put anything on her neck. go into the thrift store and find nicknacks in the perfect size... #although they have a more pressing matter to attend to. the 68cm boy body #if u dont know they released the 68cm boy heads. and then. the body's 3d files got corrupted 😔 #so they then released the 75cm body instead since they needed to remake the 68cm body from scratch #but a lot of people got confused because the 68cm heads were released with no body and the 75cm bodies had no heads #and lemme tell u. they were not. compatible LOL you wouldnt think 7 cm would make that much of a difference if ur not familiar with dolls #but it does. dear LORD it does. the 75cm body's neck is like something absurd like a 15cm circumference #compared to the like. 10cm neck holes of the 68cm heads LOL #tiny head...tiny tiny head....... #i do hope they come out with that 68cm boy. and honestly i would ADORE a shorter 1/3 scale boy too #people arent making 60cm boys anymore 😔😔😔😔😔 actually the 60cm size with dolls rn #regardless of gender has been a bit unpopular for sculptors #theres plenty of older models from older companies but ive noticed most new smaller sculptors #prefer 1/4 which i get. its smaller but still a decent size for both cutesy baby shaped dolls and more mature figured dolls #not too expensive but still a good size to work in #but ive also noticed smaller artists really love their uncle sized dolls. huge ass dudes. 70-80cm guys #just GIANT fucking dudes #so most new sculpts i see come out from artists i follow are either like a cute small 1/4 scale or some giant three foot tall muscle man #nothing in between hgkfsdhjdshjfjdskfd. its not bad or anything but it is funny to see the trends LOL #and i would like to see more 1/3 scales...i think its a nice size! big and a little unruly to handle BUT fantastic for sewing clothes for

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

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#oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fics #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fics #formula 1 fic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #smut #fluff