#had to sneak fair game in there somewhere

[ithebookhoarder]

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous. 

No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 

“Oh?” you croaked. 

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 

You remembered what you’d forgotten. 

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 

No one moved. 

No one said a word. 

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

[ghostlykeyes]

Hi Keyes! Nice to meet you ❤️ I was wondering if you would accept a request 👉🏻👈🏻

Its my first time asking for requests! So sorry if Im not clear enough of if I forget the rules. Im totally new at this T-T

I had this idea in my mind for a long time and I was wondering if you could consider writing it! Kayn x fem reader headcannons where Kayn falls haaaard for reader cause he found a partner in crime in her. They both like to cause a little trouble here and there, and also he found someone that could drive ever FASTER than him.

Omg Im so in love with him 😮‍💨❤️

Thank you and hope Im not breaking any rules!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL KAYN/TROUBLEMAKER READER ♡ No TW's ♡ SFW ♡ Nice to meet you, you're so sweet!! Thank you for your fantastic request, I loved writing it! I hope you'll feel free to request more in the future (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN

Instead of traditional nicknames like "honey" or "babe", Kayn exclusively calls you his little demon. Given your wild side, it's pretty accurate.

All it takes to get Kayn to do something is a dare. He has a hard time turning down dares as is, but if it's coming from you? His partner in crime and chief enabler? Oh, no way in hell he's backing down. Naturally it works for big, bold things: popping a wheelie on the Paranoia MV motorcycles, climbing a water tower, vandalizing a cop car. It also works for small things, too, though. Dare him to get you a glass of water or give you a kiss and he'll roll his eyes, but comply. "Oh, a dare, huh? You know I can't turn those down." He folds to your innocent, cute demands like paper. Just be mindful, though; he knows you're a troublemaker too, and he's not afraid to throw a dare or two of his own your way.

Whenever Ernest is naughty, fingers immediately point at you and Kayn. "He gets it from you two," the rest of Heartsteel claims. Kayn just shrugs. "We're his favorite," he defends (not true—Ezreal is clearly Ernest's favorite, but it's best not to rub that in Kayn's face). "Of course he's gonna take after us." He rubs Ernest's ears, completely ignoring the fact that he just stole food off the counter or shredded K'sante's favorite shoes. "Yeah, you're our little monster, huh?" If you didn't know any better, you might think Kayn is encouraging the dog's troublemaking...

(He is. He totally is. You've literally seen him sneak Ernest a treat after turning one of Sett's plushies into a chew toy.)

Kayn nabbed your phone one time and set the home screen as a picture of his mug shot from the music video. Not to be outdone, you stole his phone and set the home screen as a picture of your mug shot. Kayn has nothing but questions. "Is this real?? The fuck did you do? Why do you look so hot in this..." Of course, you don't tell him if it's real or staged. You can't give away all your secrets so easily, now, can you?

There's a change jar in the Heartsteel apartment kitchen marked "Kayn and (Y/N)'s Bail Fund". At first you thought it was a complete joke, but then you noticed Ezreal drop a twenty in there after Kayn broke a Taco Bell drive-thru window during a night-out. Now you're not so sure. Either way, hopefully you'll never have to use it for that.

Every single time you and Kayn go somewhere, it's a race. You line your cars up at the mouth of the parking garage and then you fucking go. You've raced to McDonald's for lunch, raced him to his rehearsals, you even raced him to a funeral one time. There are no rules except 'get there first', and yes, this little game has resulted in multiple speeding tickets. But whatever what's a small fine compared to an adrenaline rush? They wouldn't put 130 on the speedometer if they didn't want you to do it.

Kayn and you have been permanently banned from a fair handful of establishments. Reasons why include: totaling a go-kart, throwing bowling balls overhead, bribing a ring toss worker to get a gigantic Bulbasaur without playing the game (Sett really, really wanted it). And that's the beginning. Don't even get Yone started on the infamous Laser Tag Incident...

The perfect date for you two is a rage room. Yone got you and Kayn passes for a local rage room for Kayn's birthday one year. Playing frisbee with glass dinner plates? A surprisingly good time. Sure, they may have asked you not to come back after Kayn got a little rowdy with an old radio and an extension cord (you asked him how high he thought he could slingshot the thing and the answer was "pretty fucking far", which of course he had to prove), but it was a good time regardless. Whenever Kayn's feeling extra stressed and you don't want to deal with the fallout around real property damage, you take him to a rage room for the afternoon and smash bottles to your hearts' content.

Kayn never paid much attention to minor scrapes and bruises before meeting you. But, since you're now hopping fences or slipping through open windows together, he's suddenly become attuned to the bumps acquired while daredevilling. He keeps a small container of band-aids in his bag just for you. "I might have some bandages in here," he grumbles whenever you get scraped up. "Dunno if I used 'em all." (Of course he hasn't. They're your band-aids and he wouldn't dream of using one.)

Whenever Kayn just needs to talk, the two of you often sneak into an old building to do it. Getting caught puts your nerves on edge, for sure, but it allows Kayn to pretend he's not anxious about discussing his own feelings or worries. Of course he feels vulnerable, you two are trespassing! That's totally why his palms are sweating and his chest feels tight. It has nothing to do with his deep-seated reluctance to talk about his emotions. If you can tell Kayn's wound up extra tight, offer to sneak into a nearby community pool or abandoned gas station late at night. Under cover of darkness, in the silent hallways of a vacant building, Kayn lets you take a peek under his dark shell.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel x reader #kayn #kayn x reader #kayn/reader #sheida kayn #lovewhatsnotreal

[notfromcold]

Stipulations

My heart hurt when Ed got shackled to the rail in S2. I needed them to talk it through as a crew so fic happened.

Ed was not a master in the art of negotiation.

Or, well, that wasn't entirely true. He was great at aggressive negotiation. He was great at negotiation where there was a show of strength (or the illusion of strength) and an opponent forced to decide how much they wanted to risk. He was excellent at the old 'shot across the bow.' He wasn't great at the sort of negotiation where all you had was your earnest heart and a desire to go home.

He hadn't had much practice.

But he had his earnest heart and he wanted to go home so he was going to give it a try.

The crew had let him stay one more night. They'd even seemed chill about it. He really hadn't expected that. Now dawn light was creeping into the galley and in a few hours the crew was going to "figure this all out" as Oluwande had called it and Ed wanted to stay. He wanted to make it up to them. "Captain goes down with the ship" had always really meant "captain takes responsibility" and Ed wasn't captain anymore (was he? he felt a brief jolt of anxiety like a task left undone...no, probably not...). But he still wanted to take responsibility for what he could.

It was just....he had some stipulations.

"Stede," Ed whispered. "Stede wake up."

"Hmmph?" Stede rolled over and Ed was briefly stunned by his sleep tousled hair. God. "What is it, Ed? Are you hurting?" He looked so concerned. G o d.

"No," Ed said, "not really." Though he was hurting some - a mutiny would do that to you. "Not much... medium amount," he amended, trying to be truthful. "I just... the crew's gonna decide about me staying and I want to stay. But I don't want them to shackle me to the rail again." Ed fought down a surge of panic at the thought. "I don't like feeling trapped. It's fine if they want... I don't know, to get a few punches in. That's fair. But no surprise punches. They can do it to my face. I mean like ... they can face me about it... though I guess they can also punch my face. You know what I mean."

Ed was not going to feel trapped and he was not going to feel on edge. Everything else was fair game. But sometime during the night he'd realized he couldn't stay somewhere he didn't feel safe.

What he'd do he didn't know... but he couldn't stay. It was an awful negotiating position that boiled down to "please agree to these requirements or else I'll go back to the woods you banished me to in the first place."

Ed sighed. Then he glanced up and realized Stede looked heartbroken. Fuck.

"It's not you," Ed sighed. "I'd love to stay for you... it's just..." I might not be able to.

"It's not that," Stede said. "I just wish I hadn't. I wish they hadn't. I wish I'd protected you."

"You couldn't," Ed said. "Not exactly captain either, were you? A mutiny will do that. The whole thing about a mutiny is that it blurs who's in charge, blurs who makes decisions. And I knew what I was getting into. Not like I haven't had worse. I just..."

"You don't want it to happen again."

"Yeah."

"It wont. No one's going to punch you either. To your face or otherwise."

Ed smiled. It felt a little wobbly. But he could smile at Stede now. Stede looked so certain. Ed was not at all certain. He was pretty sure he was at least going to get punched. But Stede's optimism had always been appealing (as well as wildly sexy) so what the hell.

--

When Ed heard the crew's stipulations he laughed. A cat bell! He supposed that was fair. He'd maybe played up the sneaking around over the past few months.

But it felt - it felt like like chance to start over. Captain goes down with the ship. Captain incites a mutiny and wears a sackcloth for a while as a promise that he won't hurt his crew again. Yeah, that was fair.

And Stede's face - Stede's face - when he said "they've agreed not to hurt you - no one's going to hurt you on this ship again. You're safe."

I'm here. You're safe.

Yeah, that was.... That was.... yeah, that was... That was a lot. But it was good. Ed was pretty sure it was good.

--

So it came as an awful surprise when Jim found Ed in the shady spot he'd claimed on deck and said "Hey, about shackling you to the rail..."

Because fuck. Fuck. Of course they'd reconsider. It made sense but Ed had trusted them. And the Revenge was kind of a ways from land and maybe they'd give him back the complimentary dinghy. Hopefully they'd give him back the complimentary dinghy. But so much for cohabiting with Stede... that is... if they even let him leave at all. What if...

Apparently all this showed on his face. Because the next thing Jim said was "I think maybe you need to breathe?"

Ed took a shaky breath. "What about it?" he asked. He was pleased that his voice came out reasonably level.

"I'm really sorry we did that."

Wait. What?

"Wait. What?" Ed said.

Jim flushed. "You weren't... you were hurt and... you weren't going to hurt anyone. The rest of the stuff - not gonna apologize for that because it was fully self defense. But that... yeah."

"It's fine," Ed said. "Better to overreact than underestimate someone probably."

"It wasn't fine," Jim insisted. "It's not gonna happen again. We were... we were really jumpy. Roach made us a piñata and a cake and we nearly stabbed him. But still."

"A piñata?"

"Yeah, they wanted to like, blindfold us. To... reassure us we were safe and valued, I think?"

Ed blinked. This fucking crew.

"But yeah," Jim sighed. "You're safe and valued and shit, I guess. I don't have a piñata."

"That's okay," Ed said. "Don't need one."

#ofmd #ofmd fic #suicide cw

[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

prediction for ssr snow boa jamil

So, that SSR Snow Boa Jamil for the Harveston rerun. I have the sneaking suspicion that this will be Yasmina Silk Vil Part II... (For those who are unaware, this refers to the Scalding Sands rerun which featured a random new SSR Vil which had zero story involvement and no vignettes. He did come with some exclusive furniture though. This upset many fans, who felt it was an unnecessary addition and robbed Kalim, who was present in the event and would be far easier to integrate, of a new card.) Yasmina Silk Vil has a voice line which indicates how he got his hands on the outfit. Apparently, Trey brought it back for him as a souvenir. This is somewhat confusing though, as the groovy illustration for Vil appears to show him relaxing and lounging in one of Silk City's bazaars??? So if he never visited the place, how is he posing there...??? Fans usually chalk this out of place groovy by suggesting that Vil staged the shot using Film Research Club or professional resources, which is fair enough.

Is... Is Jamil also going to say he got the clothes as a souvenir??????? But then what's the explanation for his card art if he probably hasn't visited Harveston and won't contribute to the event in any way??? (It's not like Kalim in Scalding Sands; Jamil was NEVER present in Harveston.) Maybe the groovy will be set at a future date in which Jamil does travel to a snowy place and has an opportunity to wear it?? Whether that’s to accompany Kalim somewhere or by himself (finally freed 😭) is up to the imagination! If he does receive the clothes as a gift, maybe Jade is the sender? Firstly, they're in the same grade level and are therefore the most "familiar" with one another due to shared classes. Being in the same grade level also applies for Trey and Vil (and Trey gifted Vil the Yasmina Silk outfit). Jade and Trey are both R cards-- Secondly, Jade is the only one I can think of that would have a reasonable motivation to give Jamil something. He could gain something out of it, or at least put Jamil in his debt. I don't know what Jamil's reasoning would be to accept such a shady offer from Jade, but maybe practicality or curiosity beat out suspicion 🤡 or maybe Jade just... forces it on him so Jamil will "owe" him later... A friend also suggested the outfit may come from Sebek, since both he and Jamil are both servants (and Sebek has explicitly expressed his jealousy that Jamil grew up with Kalim). Maybe Sebek wants Jamil to be bundled up and ready to protect Kalim at a moment's notice from even the cold? BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY... A GAME THEORY... We'll know the truth when Snow Boa Jamil finally comes out!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Jade Leech #Vil Schoenheit #Jamil Viper #Trey Clover #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #disney twisted wonderland #Kalim Al-Asim #Scarabia #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory #Sebek Zigvolt

[alectoperdita]

What if for the prompt kaijou with 45 or 40? Dealers choice. Maybe for 40 kaiba dresses up as kaibaman for mokuba or xyz reason & he’s really nice to jou through the anonymity of his costume? 🤔

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

Read the previous prompt fill for 45 here

40. Identity reveal/major secret revealed

---

One day, Seto would wring Pegasus's lily white neck. Not today, but someday. And soon.

Tribute, his ass. There was no reason for Pegasus to make such a card other than to make him a laughingstock. He even named it after Kaiba.

Kaibaman.

What a ridiculous "monster" design. From the helmet to the flowing brown locks to the mockery of his trademark coat. Kaiba didn't even wear that coat anymore. He constantly reinvented his look to keep his image from going stale. Yet that was still the one most people remembered and would remember, thanks to Pegasus memorializing it in card form.

Mokuba loved it, though. And as much as Kaiba loved his little brother, he sometimes despaired over his lack of taste. Being fourteen only excused him up to a certain point.

It was also because of his love for his brother that he suffered his current indignity—traipsing around his amusement park dressed as one of his least favorite monsters, Kuriboh included.

For KaibaLand's third anniversary, the company had organized a slew of events in the week leading up to the event, including special shows, limited edition merchandise sold only on park grounds, and a mini tournament. All in the name of drumming up attendance. And it worked like a charm.

Tickets sold out weeks in advance. Day after day, they hit the attendance limit. Security caught their fair share of stragglers trying to sneak in through the side entrances. Products flew off the gift store shelves. They could barely keep them stocked day-to-day.

But it was difficult to bask in the resounding success in his current state. Between the helmet and the meter-long wig, Kaiba perspired as he'd never before in his life. The costume's state-of-the-art fabric could only wick so much sweat. In addition to impeding his peripheral vision, the helmet roasted him. But if he removed it for even a nanosecond, he'd be besieged.

That was because of another of Mokuba's bright ideas—a scavenger hunt. He insisted that guests who weren't Duelists (and Kaiba scarcely believed such people could exist) should have a chance to win prizes, too. Thus, the boy had put together an elaborate list of two hundred items, each worth various amounts of points. At the top, with the possibility of netting the player with almost fifty points, was a photo with Kaiba taken on the day of the anniversary.

But Mokuba was as devious as he was clever. Simply because Kaiba had to be out and about for the game to be fair, it didn't mean Mokuba had to make it easy for them.

Hence, the costume. Literally having him hide in plain sight.

Countless guests had approached him for pictures thus far, but he doubted a single one of them would submit it as part of the scavenger hunt. To them, he was one of the park's many character actors.

It was the perfect disguise for surveying the park in relative peace. Kaibaman the Duel Monsters drew less attention from the crowds than Kaiba Seto. So he could go wherever he pleased without being mobbed.

But he was reaching his limit. He needed to find somewhere secluded and shaded to cool off before heat exhaustion claimed him. That wouldn't be easy, given how crowded it was.

He found one eventually. An oasis of calm among the hustle and bustle. Or it could've been if there weren't already people there—a couple plainly in the middle of a quarrel. That alone should've sent Kaiba speedwalking in the opposite direction.

Except he knew the couple.

Well, he knew one of them. Jounouchi Katsuya remained a bit of a thorn in his side to this day. The boyfriend, though? Kaiba wouldn't have known if he wasn't dating Jounouchi. At least Jounouchi regularly made it to the podium in Duel Monsters tournaments. What's-his-name barely broke the top ten in rankings.

Kaiba hated to say it, but Jounouchi could do better than that loser.

"C'mon, babe, you're blowing this out of proportion," What's-His-Name wheedled as he clung to Jounouchi's elbow.

"Leggo. Don't you 'babe' me. I know what I saw," snarled Jounouchi with clenched fists.

Kaiba wondered if Jounouchi might hit the other man.

What's-His-Name didn't know when to cut his losses, though. "She was hitting on me! I swear!"

"You had your hand in her back pocket."

The loser broke into a cold sweat. Perhaps he didn't expect Jounouchi to be so blunt about the matter, especially in public. Just goes to show how little he understood Jounouchi, then. He switched tactics, instead. "You can't blame me. I mean, you saw how smoking hot she was. Tell me you wouldn't cop a feel if she offered. You swing both ways too."

Without warning, Jounouchi lurched forward, putting him intimately face-to-face with the man. Their roles reversed in a flash; What's-His-Name tried to jerk back, but Jounouchi had captured his wrists.

Jounouchi's gaze was equally steely as he spoke. "No, because being bi doesn't mean being a lying cheat. That's all on you."

To say What's-His-Name was shaken was an understatement. He looked ready to shit himself.

"I'm sorry. It'll never happen again. Gimme another chance, Katsuya—"

Something inside Kaiba recoiled upon hearing Jounouchi's given name. Was he that serious with the loser?

Jounouchi dropped his wrists. "No. We're done. Lose my number."

What's-His-Name really had no self-respect. Or brains. He reached for Jounouchi again despite everything about Jounouchi's body language screamed "DO NOT TOUCH." Kaiba could see it already. The inevitable right hook, the blood, and the screeching, then the many headaches that ensued after a public altercation.

He cleared his throat, and the two other men froze. Slowly, their heads turned, and they both gawked at Kaiba. At his costume.

Fighting the embarrassment brewing under his collar, he pitched his voice lower when he said, "That's enough. He's made his position clear."

Suddenly, Kaiba was immensely grateful for his helmet. It would hide a multitude of sins.

What's-His-Name's gaze flitted back and forth between Jounouchi and Kaiba. Perhaps he had been willing to grovel like a worm, just not in the presence of a third party.

"I'll call you later," he muttered before fleeing the scene.

"Don't bother. I'm blocking ya," Jounouchi called after him. Then, straightening to his full height, which was still shorter than Kaiba, he jutted out his chin and said, "Thanks, but I had that handled."

"I know," Kaiba replied. "It wasn't for your sake. I was saving the idiot from the broken nose he was talking himself into."

He hadn't intervened out of the goodness of his heart. No, the only media circus worse than the one where Jounouchi went public dating another man would be a knock-down, drag-out breakup fight of the same relationship on KaibaLand property. That was something Kaiba wanted to avert at all costs.

Jounouchi blinked. Once. Twice. He threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist while his entire body heaved from it. It was Kaiba's turn to stare. Maybe the breakup hit Jounouchi harder than expected. He was laughing like a loon, with tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Should Kaiba say something?

Should he leave him alone?

To his relief, both the laughter and the tears soon subsided. Jounouchi slumped and perched himself on a low garden wall. While wiping the moisture from his eyes, he patted the empty spot next to him. For a long awkward second, Kaiba debated the wisdom of taking such an invitation. In the end, the shade convinced him and he took a seat, back ramrod straight, beside Jounouchi.

Jounouchi kicked his legs forward, scuffing the sole of his sneakers against the concrete. "Betcha wondering why I was with that bozo."

Kaiba nodded before he could stop himself.

"I mean, it wasn't all bad. We had a lotta fun in the beginning. We saw each other almost every day. Went out together all the time."

Kaiba was aware. For weeks without end, new photos of Jounouchi and his beau surfaced daily in the tabloids and gossip sites.

Jounouchi continued, "Sometimes it felt like he was showing me off. Which was probably the first warning sign now that I think about it. We were out in public all the time, but we barely spent any time where it was just the two of us except for— Never mind, you don't need to know that part."

Heat gathered under Kaiba's tall collar. He silently thanked Jounouchi for his rare discretion.

"But at the time? I gotta admit. It was nice. It felt good to be wanted like that."

Jounouchi finally looked his way. The helmet's limited field of vision ensured he couldn't see much of anything other than Jounouchi's resigned expression. Not unless he turned his head away. That seemed rude even to Kaiba's limited social graces.

Kaiba cleared his throat. "It doesn't give him the right to treat you like that, especially after you came out for him."

"What? Nah! Please! That was the press blowing shit out of proportion. I've been telling 'em I ain't straight forever. They just didn't believe me until they saw me with a man with their own damn eyes. Dunno if they thought it was a publicity stunt or something, but it's not like I was hiding it." Jounouchi rolled his eyes, then shook his head. "It's so hard to find guys to date."

Kaiba caught himself before he nodded.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, this sucks. Breaking up sucks. But I ain't heartbroken about it. I just wish it hadn't turned out like this. I know it sounds insane, but shit like this makes me feel like I'll never be good enough." Jounouchi slumped forward to assume a rather defeated posture. His bangs fell over his eyes, obscuring them. He didn't move for several moments, leading Kaiba to wonder if he was crying for real despite his insistence he wasn't heartbroken. A deep sigh heaved out of the man. "Anyway, sorry for dumping all that on you, man—"

Kaiba cut him off. "You'll find someone better."

Jounouchi shot up. He gawked at Kaiba with wide eyes. "Ya think?"

"He was beneath you. His best tournament ranking was thirteen." Disdain seeped into Kaiba's tone. "And that's when he breaks the top twenty."

Jounouchi's shoulders shook as he bit his bottom lip. It took him a beat to recompose himself. "God, of course, that's the part you're most outraged about."

Was Kaiba supposed to be offended? Jounouchi made it sound like he was the ridiculous one here. He left it alone, though. Jounouchi was laughing again. It was a vast improvement over the gloom that previously wreathed him.

"Well, I actually feel tons better now." Jounouchi flashed a lopsided grin. The idiot always looked better with a smile, no matter how vapid. "So thanks for that, Kaiba."

He stiffened. Not Kaibaman. Just Kaiba. "Excuse me?"

Jounouchi tipped the helmet back to unveil Kaiba's stunned face. "Your Christian Bale Batman impression could use some work."

Heat engulfed Kaiba from head to toe. The glaring afternoon sun may not be to blame. He groped for something to say. Anything. But Jounouchi caught him red-handed. What could he possibly say to justify himself?

Jounouchi let go. The helmet slipped back into place, obscuring the top half of Kaiba's face once more. Through the lenses, Kaiba watched him intently as the man stood and stretched, extending both arms to the sky.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone"—Jounouchi glanced back and winked—"it's you in the costume."

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

#yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaijou #ygo #replies #mediocredoots #my fanfiction #writing prompts #i tried to make Kaiba nicer but he refused to cooperate #sorry this one got away from me and it's a little rambly #i'm sorry the ending is abrupt too #i'll try to do better on the next ones 😔

[fr-ogii]

smells like summer

bakugo katsuki

x gn!reader; poc friendly

masterlist

summer days and nights with katsuki

a bit of a late summer post but to be fair, i started this back in june or something

mosquito bites, despite how much they itched and how aggravating the bumps were to feel whenever you ran your hands over your skin, never seemed to matter when you were with katsuki.

the daytime brought sunburns and salty skin (if you were lucky enough to go to the beach). you almost drowned a couple times when bakugo decided it was a good idea to sneak up behind you underwater and pull you under the waves, but you had a good time nonetheless.

lunches were never boring. the grittiness of the bits of sand that somehow ended up in your sandwich whenever you ate on the beach were a bit irritating, you never once wished for anything to change. however.. you were a bit inclined to set up a picnic blanket underneath a tree somewhere when given the option. you loved any excuse to cuddle outside with your bellies full from the lunch bakugo crafted a few hours ago.

but bakugo much preferred the nights. they usually ended with all his friends over, conked out after playing some new game for hours. kirishima and denki likely got into a foolish spat arguing over the rules of some game that mina invented yesterday. bakugo would claim to himself and others that he only invited them over to “school” them and “prove that he was the best”. it was clear to you that this was a load of crap. you saw that endearing way he furrowed his eyebrows and how he turned around - feigning exasperation - to hide the smile that had crept onto his face in reaction to the ridiculousness of his friends’ arguments.

there was a 50/50 chance that the next morning would start with a bike ride to a nearby pond. there was also a 50/50 chance one of the them would forget their swim suits and have to skinny dip while the rest of you laughed at their misfortune.

the stickiness of the humid summer air, the bruises on your legs that just seemed to appear out of nowhere, all of it would have been annoying if it were anyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel content when it was katsuki.

#bnha #x reader #poc friendly #x gn!reader #comfort #fluff #mha #mine 📹 #bakugo #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki #katsuki x reader #summer days #summer fanfic #drabble #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x masc!reader

[justmeinatree]

04 - Made Of Something New : Mexico

Summary : you meet niall in your hotel bar. and there’s an intense connection.

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, period sex, choking, cheating (not on you, but none the less)

Word Count : 7k

Series Masterlist

GIF : @horansqueen

August 21 - Mexico City, Mexico

“decided what you’re getting ?” your coworker asks as you look over your menu one last time. you’re seated in a small cafe in mexico city with 3 of your coworkers, using up your 2 hour break to grab some lunch.

“yeah, think i’m settled,” you smile as the waitress rounds the corner, taking everyone’s order. 

you zone out a bit as the others start talking about a game on tv last night. you take in the small patio you were currently sitting at, vines growing through the trellis above your head. it created a thankful relief from the sun as your entire time here had been blessed with above normal temperatures. and it was august. which mean very hot in the middle of mexico city. 

you were thankful that your work wasn’t too hellbent on what the marketing team wore, claiming that individuality and being comfortable in your skin made better sales people. as long as it stayed professional, of course. so you were in flowy cotton pants with a tanktop tucked in, your blouse tucked into your bag during your break. 

as the waitress brings your drinks, you nod a polite “thank you,” taking a big sip and unlocking your phone. yeah, you probably should have been mingling with your coworkers, but it was your break and you really didn’t care about their conversation. so you checked out completely, scrolling through your instagram.

you flick through a few of your friends stories before noticing a story from niall’s private account. you’d been checking regularly since your agreement’s been made 9 weeks ago. 

niall’s been on tour throughout the summer, but as luck would have it, he’s coming nowhere near your hometown. and so far you’ve travelled twice for work, none of them coinciding with his whereabouts.

you bite your lip, thumb hovering over his story for a moment before checking it. it still feels a bit odd. like you’re checking up on him. he told you that he posts a story with his location to his private account, every time he goes somewhere new. something that he’s always done for his mam. thinks it’s only fair that his mother always knows where her son is. it’s endearing really.

but well, now you have this privilege as well. so that you and niall have the opportunity to sneak off into your own little bubble. the weight of the meaning behind this doesn’t go unnoticed to you. he doesn’t do it to update his girlfriend, he does it to update his mother and you. gives you shivers just thinking about what that means.

and your breath catches in your throat when the location tag on niall’s story reads “mexico”. just that. the country. he could be anywhere. and judging by the photo, he’s not in a city. he’s somewhere remote, not seemingly many people around. and he’s so tanned. your breath picks up just looking at him.

dont get too excited, gotta find out where he even is, you think to yourself, replying to the story. 

“hey niall, see you’re posting a very helpful location tag lol. i’m in mexico city ! -xx”

you close your phone then, as the food arrives, enjoying all the flavours of this culture. one huge perk of travelling for work, in your opinion. you never shied away from going to the authentic restaurants, having a taste of whatever the waiter recommended. it was almost always, absolutely delicious.

however, your mind races as you eat. this is the first time you’re reaching out to niall. the first time your plan is effectively put into motion. 

you’re honestly a bit scared, this agreement you two made is heavily reliant on you. you’re the one that keeps up with him, and you’re the one that reaches out when locations coincide. what if he doesn’t want to see you ? what if he feels pressured to see you ? you both woke up this morning thinking this would be a normal day. and with one click over to his story, all of a sudden, it’s not.

you chance looking at your phone again when everyone’s just waiting for the bill, two instagram notification making a small smile spread across your lips.

“petal, hi. it’s so nice to hear from you again ! i’m not too far out of the city, super small town that i come to whenever i want to get away. a taxi can take you here ! -nh”

“that is, if you want. sorry, i got really excited. totally understand if you dont want to get into a taxi and drive off into the middle of nowhere. i can always come to you. -nh”

you smile wide at your phone, not a care in the world who notices. you read over the part about him being excited and all of your previous worries wash away. biting into your bottom lip, you write out a reply.

“i can come to you, like the idea of sneaking off into the middle of nowhere mexico. love me a good dose of danger.”

“truthfully though, i think it would be nice to get out of the city. i have one more work presentation, then i can head back to my hotel and get ready. send me an address. -xx”

you pay for your food, walking back to the company’s offices, seeing niall’s reply with an address and a “can’t fuckin wait to see you my beautiful girl” which makes your heart flip. 

you copy the address into maps, seeing where exactly this is, and it’s a good 45 mins far outside of the city. you know you’ll be getting there too late for dinner, so you make a quick mental note to grab a little snack for the taxi ride.

the rest of your day goes by fairly uneventfully. you spend 3 hours leading a marketing meeting with nothing other than the looming events that you know will take place later swirling around your brain. you head back to your hotel as soon as the meeting’s over, having a shower and getting dressed into another pair of flowy cotton pants and tanktop. it kept you cool and in this heat, you needed all the help you could get.

your hair is thrown up into a messy bun, strands left loose framing your face. you make up a small bag of things you may need, toothbrush, spare clothes, etc. and you silently thank all the gods for making today your final work day. your flight tomorrow doesn’t leave until late afternoon, giving you plenty of time.

you buy yourself a snack from the vending machine on your way out, getting a taxi and opening up your instagram. you give the man the address and quickly type out a message to niall.

“leaving my hotel now. i’ll text you when i get closer. if you never hear back from me, send a search party lol -xx.”

you get a reply from niall almost instantly, 

“i’d send the biggest search party mexico’s ever fuckin seen. see you soon sweet girl x -nh.”

you smile to yourself, that warm fuzzy feeling that niall brings into your life, finally making a comeback after 9 weeks. you couldn’t wait to see him, feel him again.

most of the car ride is quiet, the radio in the front playing too faintly for you to really make out what’s playing. you spend a lot of the time admiring the scenery as you get further and further out of town. the sun is practically setting, which makes it all the more beautiful.

you pull into the small town niall’s in just around sunset, the air still warm from the day, sky turned bright pink, orange and hints of purple.

“i’m in town, i’ll be there in a few minutes -xx”

as the driver drives up in front of the address niall had given you, you notice a small house, gate wrapping around the property with grape vines growing through. and just as the driver puts the car in park, niall comes waltzing through the gate, smiling wide as he sees you in the back window.

niall taps on the passenger window, the driver rolling down the window, niall waving at him, thanking him for driving you so far out, and handing him a neat little stack of money. “for your troubles, buenos noches.”

he turns to your door, opening it for you and taking your hand to help you step out. “didn’t have to do that, i was gonna pay him,” you hum, feeling a bit bad, and hoping he doesn’t think you expect him to pay for anything.

“hello niall, so nice to see you, i missed you tons,” he mocks jokingly, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

“hello niall, it’s so nice to see you, i missed you more than i could ever fuckin explain,” you smile back at him, feeling niall’s hands settle on your hips, pulling you into him.

your arms go to wrap around his neck as you freeze momentarily, hearing a family walk down the street, headed for town.

niall notices your hesitation, and he realizes why, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, “s’okay petal, dont have to worry about anything over here. s’why i love this place so much.”

“so i can do this ?” you ask, arms wrapping around his neck, getting up on your tip toes to slot your lips with his.

the kiss is heated, pulling a groan from deep inside niall’s chest, his hands slipping from the small of your back to squeeze into your hips, feeling the twitch in his cock as your both pressed so close together.

his hands glide down over the swell of your ass, down to the back of your thighs, picking you up. instinctively, you wrap your legs around him, his arms coming around your back again to support you. 

niall nibbles into your bottom lip as he starts to twirl in the middle of the empty street, making you giggle. “fuck, i missed you,” you feel niall humming against your lips, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, giving him a soft kiss.

you knew what he was feeling. it literally pains you both to say goodbye, like something deep inside is pulling you to him and you need to resist it and walk away. but the moment you’re back together, that emptiness in the pit of your stomach, in the pit of your heart, goes away. 

niall puts you down, feet firmly planted into the ground, “wanna take a little walk ?” he asks, “grab some dessert ?”

“that sounds absolutely amazing,” you hum, as niall’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against him as he slowly starts leading you down the street. “been craving sweets all day, dessert will be perfect.”

he laughs at that, squeezing you tighter to him and kissing the top of your head. “you’re in for a real treat, then. there’s this place, 20 minute walk from here. i go there every time i’m here, they make the best food !” he explains animatedly, the look of excitement almost comparable to that of a toddler with ice cream. “it’s just an old couple that owns it, they cook everything themselves ! their kids and grandkids run everything else, such a sweet family.”

you smile, watching him, taking in all of his emotions, the tan on his skin, how relaxed he seems compared to the other times you’ve seen him. “i can’t wait to see it ! you make it sound like you come here often.”

“three to four times a year,” he nods. “s’my favourite place. it’s such a secluded little town, they dont really know who i am. i’m just niall here, the random but really friendly irish lad that visits from time to time,” he chuckles, adding, “no one really comes here. unless it’s the local’s family members or friends.”

“how did you end up here then ?” you ask, hoping not to sound pushy, just genuinely curious and intrigued at this little glimmer into his life. his real life. it’s nice to know him like this, it’s not just an electrifying, down to the core, connection, and really amazing sex. it’s more personal, and it makes it seem so much more real. even just seeing this calm, giddy version of niall makes your heart throb in your chest. you love knowing these things, and you want to learn more, much more. but it also makes you crave what you can’t have.

niall shrugs, thinking back on it, “s’kinda stupid really. i was in mexico city, years ago, and had some time off. so i rented a car and drove off just to see what was out there. i pull up on this town, hungry as hell, so i stopped at the little cafe. fell in love with the food and the people, and thank god too, because after my meal, the car wouldn’t start ! had to stay the night until the mechanic in town could track down the parts. started coming back regularly after that. the house you pulled up to is mine actually. there’s no hotel here or anything, figured i needed a place to stay. this is sort of my get away. no one knows i have that house. everyone knows i love visiting mexico, but they dont know that i come here. s’my little secret.”

you were already walking up to the town, if you could call it that. it was the one cafe, a school, a repair shop, and a store. niall was holding the door open for you as you’re still grasping what he’s just opened up about. are you really the first person that knows about this place ? 

and well, you dont really have a moment to dwell on that, as a lady in her 40s approaches you both, “niall ! we always knew you’d find yourself a nice lady ! welcome dear, so nice of you to come visit our little town.” 

she throws herself at you in a big hug, as you look over at niall, making him mouth, “please go with it.”

“oh, where are my manners,” the lady smiles, pulling away from the bear hug she had wrapped you in. “my name is rosa,” she turns her head towards the back of the small space, screaming out, “mama ! get out here mama ! papa ! niall’s brought a lady !” rosa turns completely to storm off into the kitchen to fetch her family.

you look over at niall with wide eyes, his face broken out into a large shit eating grin, as he shrugs, “sorry, they’re really excitable when new people visit their town. and they’ve been buggin me about finding a girlfriend and all that. i keep this life totally separate. they don’t know about -“ he cuts himself off, looking at you with worry, and is that sadness ? in his eyes.

niall knows that you know what the situation at hand is, but he still feels guilty. and oddly enough, he feels more guilt for you than anyone else. and that worries him to no end, but he can’t think too hard about that now. he’s never consciously mentioned her to you, he’s not sure at all how you’re about to react. 

“niall,” you hum quietly, taking his hand in yours. “i know what i signed up for.” stab. niall felt that right in his heart. what you signed up for. he’s a giant prick. but he wants to be selfish with you. wants to let himself have this one. he doesn’t want to consider any of the alternatives. 

“you dont have to stress it, s’just comfort, and friends, and sex, yeah ?” you smile, not meaning a single word you’ve just said. you know you’re developing feelings for him. you’re not naive enough to deny yourself that truth. but you have to keep it zipped away from everyone, especially niall. if this secret gets out to anyone, every bit of your relationship with niall is gone forever.

niall doesn’t have a chance to respond, as the entire jimenez family trots out of the kitchen in pure excitement, chatting with you and niall, introducing themselves and explaining a bit about their town and their restaurant. eventually, you both take a seat on the little patio outside, the last peaks of light illuminating the sky, and an intricate pattern of fairy lights hanging above, brighten up the space.

you let niall order for you, excited to see what he thinks you’ll like, but also to share something that he’s so passionately excited about. the food was fantastic, the place and the people made it somehow even better.

as you step back out into the street, niall’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to him, “thank you for being here. thank you for coming, i should say. before i met you, this felt like my only safe space. and now, i honestly feel like you’re a safe space too. i dont know what it is, like a feeling deep in my bones that tells me everything is good with you. drop all the walls,” he chuckles. “let yourself be. just like i can here. and it’s a crazy feeling having both the safe spaces together.”

you take a deep breath at his confession, feeling your heart grip itself like a vice. you’re swallowing down the frog in your throat, needing to stay composed for him. you were feeling extra emotional today, not sure why. maybe just being with niall brings it out of you.

“i’m glad i can be a safe space for you niall,” you smile, his face inching towards yours. “i love that you can come to me. i love that you can feel comfortable enough to bring me here.” you were going to keep going, but niall’s lips cut you off. slotting with yours as a low moan leaves his throat. 

your kisses always feel so good. what is so different about you ? a kiss is a kiss, no ? lips and tongue. but kissing you, felt like nothing niall’s ever felt before. he can’t explain it, can’t put his finger on the feeling. it’s warm. it’s fuzzy. it makes his heart ache. but it’s not a bad ache. it gives him butterflies. but he’s not nervous. excited. excited butterflies. happy butterflies.

“c’mon,” niall murmurs against your lips. “lets go back before i give this poor old mexican family a real good show.”

you giggle, a slight blush creeping up on your cheeks, cuddling up into his side as he leads you back to his house. he asks you how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, if you’d been travelling for work, genuinely curious about what’s happening in your life.

listening to you talk about your small town back home, the life he never really knew you lived, gave him so much perspective and understanding. he needs to stop seeing you as this almost mystical fairy like creature put on this planet to make him feel comfortable, to give him the escape he so desperately craves.

but the more you tell him, the more he��s so glad he’s moved away from that image and can now put a story to you. a human trait. you really are a completely normal, beautiful, caring, kind person. and it absolutely fucks with his head and emotions even more.

niall leads you through the gate, following a little path through a large garden that makes up the front yard. as you both walk inside, you take in the quaint little cottagey feel to the place. it’s small, a living room, kitchen, and what you assume is a bedroom and bathroom down the hall. 

the knowledge of this being his getaway space has your mind reeling as you look around. the living room consists of a couch, covered in throw pillows, all in different shades of muted colour. some brunt oranges and dark teals, mustard yellows and deep purples. you cant wait for the opportunity to sink into it.

in the corner of the room, niall has an old style record player table, the far wall filled floor to ceiling with vinyls. much of which look quite used if the wear and tear on the sleeves is anything to go by. there’s a small tv in the other corner, bunny ear antennas on top of it. 

“what do ya think ?” niall smiles at you, a bit of a smirk on his lips, catching your roaming eyes.

“i love it, so cozy. and homey,” you murmur, smiling at him.

“c’mon, i’ll show you the rest,” he nods down the hall, leading you to the bedroom, with an ensuite bathroom. you figure if he always comes here alone, he doesn’t need much space.

the bedroom is a reflection of the living room, more muted colours on the bed, some plants in the large window. niall points towards the door on the opposite side of the room, “the bathroom’s through there. i hope you don’t mind the tight space, never ever have visitors.”

“i dont mind at all, i love it here, honestly. you’ve really made this a perfect little getaway place,” you smile, walking up to him, getting on your tiptoes, arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.

niall responds right away, hands landing on your hips, leading you backwards towards the bed. 

you momentarily pull away from the kiss, “sorry, can i just use the washroom real quick ? really gotta pee,” you giggle shyly. the worst moment to ask, but you hadn’t used a washroom since you left your hotel. and you definitely wouldn’t mind a little freshing up after that long cab ride.

“‘course you can,” niall pats your bum, “i’ll be waiting for ya.”

you step into the bathroom, noticing a fairly large walk-in shower, with a small sink and toilet off to the side. you set your bag by the counter, making your way to the toilet to have a quick pee, and “fuck,” you mutter. your period.

well niall isn’t the reason your emotions are on high today, and it surely explains the sweets cravings. but now what ? what are you supposed to tell niall ? you know what he’s expecting next. it feels like it’s part of the deal, comfort and good sex.

you reach for your bag, getting yourself organized and freshening up for a moment at the sink. taking a big breath to calm your nerves, you step out of the bathroom, to notice niall sitting in the middle of the bed, back against the wall, flicking through his phone.

he smiles, hearing you step out of the bathroom, his eyes filling with concern when he looks you over. niall can sense that something in you has changed. you seem nervous, scared, and a little awkward. those are not feelings he ever wants to see etched on your face.

“what’s wrong, petal ? are you alright ?” he asks quietly, shuffling to the edge of the bed, reaching for your hand to pull you forward between his legs.

you chuckle, shaking your head, “can’t believe i have to tell you this. fuck, it’s so embarrassing. if i knew this was gonna happen, i probably wouldn’t have reached out in the first place.” you watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion before mumbling out “i started my period.”

niall’s face floods with relief, shaking his head, “that’s all ? christ, you had me worried something was really wrong. thought something happened and you wanted to leave.”

“no, no,” you rush out. you dont want to leave at all, you were worried he wouldn’t want you to stay the night if it meant no sex. “i dont want to leave. it just kind of ruins our next plans.”

“doesn’t have to,” niall smirks up at you, his hands rubbing over your hips as you’re standing between his knees. “can always lay some towels down. or we could skip the mess and go right in the shower,” he offers.

you groan slightly, biting your lip. you’d honestly never had period sex before. but you were so so horny, you were thinking about caving in. but you’d also just started your period, and in all honestly you felt kinda gross.

niall notes the hesitation in your expression, watching your brain reeling. “dont have to, petal,” you coos soothingly, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “honestly, i would not for a second be upset if we just cuddle and listen to music or something. that would actually be amazing, cozy night in.”

“you have no idea how horny my period makes me,” you chuckle, a strong blush taking over your cheeks over the embarrassment of admitting that fact about yourself. “but i also feel kinda gross right now, and i’m just really not sure which option i’d prefer. cuddles and music sounds amazing. fuck, i dont know.”

niall stands straight up, tugging your hand towards the washroom you just exited from, “c’mon then. you feel gross, all the more reason for a shower. we don’t have to do anything you dont want to, really. lets just stand in the water, i’ll scrub you nice and clean. even massage your back and shoulders.”

his willingness to help has you smiling wide as you look over at him, “you’re really something else. not many people have ever actively tried to make me feel better during this time of month.”

niall pulls you into him, arms wrapped around your body as he leaves a series of pecks over your lips and jaw, “you’ve been around the wrong people then love.”

truth is, niall feels bad. he needs to start showing you that you’re not just some sex toy to him. you’re everything. everything he’s never known how much he really needed. he needs to appreciate you more, christ he cannot lose you now. not after having such a small glimpse of what you can truly do for him. right now, he’d give you the fucking moon, if you asked.

“why so good to me ?” you murmur, looking up at him.

he leans his head down, nose brushing against yours, “because you’ve been so good to me. and i’ve been dying for an opportunity to do the same for you. wanna make you feel just as good as you make me feel.”

you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as your forehead rests against his. niall’s hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip from your teeth, lips pressing to yours in a sweet kiss.

as he pulls away, he turns to start the shower, keeping his back to you as he strips and steps into the water, “do whatever you need, i wont look.”

your heart bursts a tiny bit more at how considerate he is. he knows it’s a bit awkward for you. hell, it’s only the third time you guys are even together. he’ll give you this bit of privacy, not wanting you to feel any ounce of discomfort.

you step into the shower behind him, letting the water wash away anything you didn’t want niall’s eyes to see. your hands run up his back to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze, “thank you. you’re good to turn around.”

he slowly turns to face you, smiling brightly, eyes on yours as he reaches to cup your jaw with his left hand, right hand falling on your hips. “you’re so fuckin beautiful,” he coos, pulling you into him, lips slotting with yours. 

your arms reach up to wrap around niall’s neck, getting on your tiptoes to reach properly. his arms wind themselves around your waist, holding you to him as he groans against your mouth, pulling away breathlessly. he rests his forehead on yours, “let me take care of you, dont wanna get distracted.”

you blush, nodding, getting back down flat on your feet, one hand gliding down to cup niall’s jaw, pulling him in for another quick kiss.

he groans again, playfully frustrated with you, biting your lip to pull on it, letting it snap back into place. “stop it,” he grumbles teasingly. “promised to wash you, give you a massage. then we can do whatever you want.”

you pout playfully, making him step right up to you again, left hand cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed up under your chin to make you look up him. he ghosts his lips against yours, “you wont regret it, i’ll make it really good for you.”

as he pulls away, his thumb slowly drags its way down from your chin to the base of your neck, before he reaches for a bottle of soap and a loofah.

you groan to yourself silently, your body on absolute fire. you were so horny and fuck, he has no idea what kind of effect he has on you.

niall fluffs up the soap under the running water, turning to you with a bright smile. “c’mon, where shall i start.”

you laugh, putting your arm up, letting him rub the soapy loofah over your hand, all the way around your arm, up to your shoulder. he rubs small circles into your collarbone, across the top of your chest to your other shoulder and down your arm. 

he swipes the loofah back up your arm, settling on your chest and stomach, watching your nipples pebble under the foaminess of the soap. and fuck, he’s dying to lick them. 

niall hooks the string of the loofah on his wrist, cupping his hands to pick up some water and letting it fall over your chest, the soap dripping down to your feet. his tongue is immediately on your nipple, licking over it in languid strokes, switching over to the other side, sucking it into his mouth.

you moan, your knees feeling weak, hands reaching out behind you to find the wall, as your body leans against it. it all happened so fast, your brain takes a moment to register what’s happening. but, fuck, it felt good. and you were so incredibly horny. the entire day felt like a tease, just waiting to see him.

“sorry pet, got distracted,” niall chuckles, pulling away from you, hands settling on your hips, making you turn around to face the wall.

he plants your hands onto the cool surface on either side of your head, grabbing the loofah again and dropping down into a crouching position, your bum right in his face.

he playfully nibbles into the swell of your bum, making you squeal as you jolt, both of you laughing, before niall gets back to work. he nudges your legs apart, rubbing soap over them, paying close attention to your ass, before standing up and soaping your back.

he drops the loofah to the ground, using the soap on your back to make his hands glide as he starts working over your muscles.

niall starts with your shoulders, thumbs working into your neck and shoulder blades. he takes his time, loosening all of the knots, your shoulders visibly relaxing.

his hands keep working down your body, focusing on the small of your back, waist, and hips. it felt amazing having him work at your muscles like this. and it was turning you on to end, on top of it.

niall was getting a rise out of this too. feeling your skin in his hands has always been electrifying. but having this opportunity to really explore you, really focus on feeling you, it was almost magical to him.

plus, he loves watching your body. he’s always thought you were so beautiful. but now, watching your skin pull and ripple under his touch. the little hums and sighs leaving your parted lips. the way you’ve completely relaxed. the way your body moves, almost as if it’s chasing him, every time he touches you.

most of the soap is gone now, the water having almost completely washed it away. niall’s hands settle themselves on your hips, bringing his forehead down to your shoulder, leaving a series of small pecks against your skin.

“wanna kiss on you now a little bit. s’that okay ?” he asks quietly, not wanting to ruin the comfortable silence.

“mhmm,” you hum, nodding. your eyes are closed, body heavily reliant on the wall in front of you. you’re not sure anyone’s ever made you feel as good as niall can. 

he uses his hands, gently on your hips, to turn you around, making you lean back against the wall, tilting your chin up to look at him, as he leans down to slot his lips with yours.

niall was savouring this, taking his time with you. he’s never had a moment to really cherish you, and he’s revelling in it. 

you hum, your hands roaming from his chest to his stomach, hips, and back again. the fluttering feeling of his lips trailing over your neck, shoulders and chest had you in shambles. you were so relaxed, feeling so good, every ounce of grossness completely washed away.

you have no idea how long niall spends kissing you, you’re so lost in the moment. the soothing feeling of the water drip drip dripping over your skin. the relaxing feeling of niall’s hands massaging into your hips. the calming feeling of his lips ghosting over every inch of you he can reach.

you were so zoned out of it, you dont notice the moment your hips roll towards him. almost like a silent plea.

but niall does notice, his lips settling on your neck, sucking a soft bruise, his cock achingly hard from all the light teasing touches.

his prick nudges between your legs, humming quietly against your skin, “can i just- can i please ? fuck, i need feel you so bad, sweet girl, please.”

you find yourself nodding, hips pressing more against him, unable to hold off anymore. your body completely electrified by all the touches.

niall’s hand slips down to your thigh, hooking it over his hip, the other hand between your bodies to line himself up with your entrance. his jaw goes completely slack, eyes screwed shut, forehead pressed against yours, as his cock settles itself deep inside you.

“fuckin christ, so tight pup,” he groans breathily, his body shuddering. he was sadly mistaken in thinking that choking you would be the tightest squeeze he’d ever feel. “so fuckin wet like this,” he murmurs, lips ghosting against yours.

hearing that makes your body go rigid for a moment, suddenly very conscious of the fact that you’re on your period, and that’s absolutely why you’re so wet. probably wetter than you’ve ever been. 

“dont be nervous, petal,” he whispers into your skin, his breath making you shudder. “s’just me. you’re not giving me my red wings, dont worry about it.”

you giggle quietly, leaning your cheek against the top of his head in a silent thank you. thank you for being understanding. thank you for not making you say it out loud. thank you for being so comforting. thank you for being him.

niall rolls his hips into yours, your head leaning back into the wall as you moan, “fuck, it’s so good.”

he keeps a slower pace, not wanting to overwhelm you. his hands roaming your body, massaging any bit her can reach, his lips still trailing kisses over your chest, shoulders, neck, and jaw.

your body was trembling, so oversensitive from the overflow of hormones coursing through your body. for a moment, you wonder why you’ve never given into the temptation of sex during your period. 

but you really cant focus on that too long, niall’s cock driving into the spongey spot inside you, your eyes rolling back. a loud moan escapes you, your cunt clamping down on his member for a moment.

“fuck, puppy, m’not gonna last long,” he groans against your ear, nipping at the shell. “feel so fuckin good, such a good girl for me.”

“niall,” you whimper, feeling so much pressure buildup in your body. “need to cum, niall please.”

you feel niall’s fingers make their way to your swollen clit, rubbing rhythmic circles, your legs starting to shake, as your moans get louder and louder.

“c’mon pup, cum for me,” he moans, holding back his own high. he needs to feel you first, needs to make you fall apart for him. 

his other hand slithers up to your throat, not bothering to ask anymore, his fingers gripping tightly, making you cum instantly.

your body gives out as your orgasm rips through you, knees buckling, niall’s weight pressing you to the wall, the only thing holding you up. 

niall thinks he blacks out for a moment, your cunt clamping down on his cock harder than he’s ever felt. his head is swimming as his ribbons of cum shoot their way inside you, as he gasps for air.

you breathe deeply, trying to catch your breath, a few silent tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity of it all. your hormones surely aiding the emotional side to you at the moment.

niall’s arms worm their way around your waist, holding your body against his tightly, the only thing keeping you up. with his forehead against yours, he murmurs mindlessly, “you’re the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a few more silent tears cascade over your skin, niall taking notice, kissing each one away. “please tell me those are happy tears,” he whispers against your cheek.

you giggle, nodding your head, “the happiest.” you truly dont remember ever feeling this good. 

niall’s nose gently flicks over yours, his lips slotting with yours in a quick kiss, before slowly pulling out of you.

you watch him step into the stream of the shower, swiping away any remnants of your arousal on his prick. watching some of the water turn red as it makes its way down the drain, you hum quietly, “really doesn’t bother you ?”

he looks over his shoulder at you, eyebrow quirked, “should it ? s’just a bit of blood. couldn’t care less,” he explains, turning back forwards, towards the water.

you smile, joining him in the water to clean yourself up as well, “you’re something else.”

“so are you,” he smiles back, kissing your shoulder, before shutting the water off, stepping out and handing you a towel.

you make sure to dry off quickly, not wanting to stain the towel, niall heading off into the room to give you some privacy.

as you step out into the room, he hands you one of his tshirts, “here. if you want to wear this to bed ? probably feel cozier than your clothes from earlier.”

you smile, slipping his shirt on, the hem coming down mid-thigh on you. the smell of niall envelops you, your eyes fluttering closed momentarily. the feeling of being wrapped in him constantly is slightly overwhelming. in the best way.

he leads you over to the bed, getting cozy with you, asking a question he’s had on his mind for the last couple of hours. “earlier, you said that if you knew you were gonna start your period, you wouldn’t have even gotten in touch. why’s that ?”

“wasn’t sure you’d want to see me if we couldn’t get to the sex part,” you shrug, admitting honestly. “not sure you know this, but not many guys are jumping at the opportunity for period sex.”

you can feel him shaking his head against yours, as you’re currently using his chest as a pillow. “i just want to see you,” niall answers honestly. “s’not about anything specific other than you.”

you hum, smiling at his answer, cuddling more into him as your eyes grow heavy. niall’s fingers carding through your hair, the steady bomp bomp bomp of his heart, the rhythmic up and down and up and down of his chest, all lulling you to sleep beautifully.

you slowly wake to niall crawling onto the bed, rubbing over your shoulder, “petal, s’starting to get a bit late. want you to be able to eat before it’s time to go.”

you blink your eyes open, smiling as you see him, your eyebrows furrowing when you notice what’s around him. he’s brought a dinner tray with two plates, each of them having a stack of blueberry pancakes, some bacon and eggs on the side. a bowl with a large variety of cut up fruit, a coffee and an iced coffee, along with two glasses of orange juice.

“hope this is okay,” he hums, a bit nervously. “i put some pain meds right there incase you needed. also, remembered last time saying you couldn’t believe the room service menu didn’t have iced coffee. so i hope that one’s okay.”

“niall,” you murmur, smiling at him, pulling yourself up carefully, into a sitting position, a little taken aback by how this visit has been. “i dont think anyone’s ever taken care of me the way you have.”

you lean over to kiss him, your hand tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, adding quietly,  “honestly, i feel like this time, you were my safe space. i really understand it now.” 

the more you think about it, the more you realize how important you’ve both become to each other. fuck, maybe you were supposed to be sitting in that bar, in vancouver, all those months ago. 

you lock eyes with him, needing him to feel the emotion, the power, the intensity, behind what you say, “and, i want you to know that i’m not going to be the one to ever stop this agreement. it’s going to have to come from you. because now that i really know how this feels, i never want to take it away from you.”

Part 5

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan blurb #niall horan imagine #niall horan one shot #niall horan x reader #niall horan x you #smut #niall horan smut #niall horan fan #niall horan fandom #niall horan masterlist #hello lovers #one direction #writings #justmeinatree #niall horan writings

[nrdmssgs]

Hi! I'd like to request something about my OC and Ghost if it's alright with you and you're still taking requests. No pressure and absolutely no rush. If I missed that you're not taking requests at the moment, I'm sorry.

I'm writing a fanfic about my OC, and to know her better I'll link my headcanons of her https://www.tumblr.com/gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot/718834905462751232/sergeant-christine-riot-vega-task-force-141?source=share

I'm feeling a bit down with life and my fic so I thought I'd request something about them to cheer me up. Of course feel free to not answer or not do it, it's perfectly ok!

If you decide to do it, I'd prefer something fluff/smut (smutty fluff? fluffy smutt? :D ) or just fluff/comfort, whatever is fine, really. My fic is a slow burn and although there are signs (and I have their first kiss already written), I'd love to see something with them already established. In my head, although both are deeply traumatised (both having undergone torture and lost their families) their relationship is surprisingly healthy.

Again, should you have other questions, or just discard this completely, it's completely fine. Thank you for reading!

Masterlist Fluff with a sprinkle of smut in the end Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x OC of @gamergirlbones

Summary: Just a quiet evening with a silly game.

TW: A bit of smut under cut

Authors note: I hope, this makes you smile for at least a minute. I really wanted to keep things fluffy and comforting. This all is taking place long after their first kiss (and maybe confessions).

One of those evenings

“Your turn, Lt.” 

Ghost blinked and looked around. If it wasn't for his mask, all others would see his puzzled expression right now. “Where were we?” Ghost voice is calm and steady, as if he wasn't desperately trying to remember, at what point of discussion his mind drifted away somewhere far. 

“Ehm, we are all captured and sentenced to death. Each of us gets a last wish. No limits, but no cheating like ‘i wish for a 1000 wishes’ either.” As Gaz was reminding him of what were they discussing, Simon silently looked from one face to another, trying to guess, who came up with such an idea. Ghost was mentally betting on Johnny, but deep inside he knew that Riot could also offer such a grim game theme at the end of the day.

“So what would you wish for?” “A gun.”

A collective sigh of disappointment swept over the campfire around which they had all gathered. “We agreed to not cheat,” groaned Gaz. “Hey, I'm ok with that answer. It means, mine is still the best!” Soap is shining with pride, but Riot protests. “Hey, that's just not fair. We were competing to find the funniest of us - not the most strategic-minded. Ghost deserves a second chance on this one.”

“You want my last wish to be absurd?” Simon scoffs. “What am I supposed to ask for? A fucking cup of tea?”

“Na-a-ah, the parade in my honor is still funnier.” Soap winks at Riot and adds ‘Ok, Lt, last chance. Give us your best shot’.

Ghosts eyes travel down to his side, where Riot sits, but he stops himself. “I'd wish to relive one of those evenings.” Silence reigns around the campfire. Everyone seems to be waiting for him to elaborate.

***

Simons mind drifts to one of the memories, he values the most. That time, he managed to sneak her from the base, keep her to himself for some time. It was a dream come true: a few days of peace in her loving hands. From the moment, she exited his car and stepped into tall grass, coming closer to his remote cabin, till the moment she kissed him goodbye a few days later - this was heaven. On the first evening they made a bonfire, just like the one, they were sitting around right now. Only that time there were just the two of them.

The crackle of burning logs mingled with the din of crickets at sunset. He crawled over to her chair, hugged her from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder. 

"It turns out I needed it." Her voice was tired and soft. “Of course you did. You've been burning that candle at both ends for too long.” Ghost felt, he should have made her go on this brief vacation earlier. “I know, how stressful it can get. Mission after mission, then obstacle courses back on the base, advanced weaponry, physical training…” Ghost reached for her hand, held it lightly, and barely touched his lips to the top of it. “And at the end of the day, you are left with a shittone of paperwork.” Christine winced. 

“Oh, don't get me started on that one.” His croaky voice left a tingling feeling somewhere deep inside her chest. As if they communicated now not only verbally, although his touch was still pure and undemanding. Her body was exhausted, her mind - drifted to sleep. “Come on, let's get you to the bed,” Ghost whispered, not wanting to distract her peaceful state of mind. But when she refused and asked to ‘leave her right on this chair under the stars’, he rose without letting go of her hand and added: “Make your lieutenant proud: get up.”

“So many ways to abuse your rank, Lt. And still, you choose the most innocent one…” Christine murmured, but stood up and let him lead the way. It was only when she was undressed, bathed and nicely tucked with a cozy blanket, when Ghost finally answered her: “I'll use and abuse my rank in every most unholy way once you get a nice sleep, love.” Maybe it was banal fatigue, or maybe it was a burning eagerness to find out how he could ‘abuse his higher rank’, but she felt asleep quickly enough in his arms, catching the last seconds of her waking moments as he softly kissed her temple.

***

“One of those evenings?” Someone around the campfire finally vocalizes the question, that hung up in the air, since Ghost made his ‘last wish’. 

“Ahem, how about we all agree that Soap won and call it a night?” Riot looks around and, without waiting for their answer, gets up and moves away towards one of the small shacks that served to 141 as temporary shelters before the start of the operation.

Ghost waits for a while, he always does. Just to stand up a bit later and disappear somewhere in the woods, tangling his traces. Their bond with Riot may be obvious to others, but he still keeps it all low.

He comes in to her cabin so quietly, it's almost impossible to hear his steps. But Riot always knows, when Simon gets closer to her, as if she feels his presence with some kind of the sixth Sense. So when he stops before a small sink to freshen up, it's actually her, who surprises him, sliding her fragile palms under his shirt.

“One of those evenings? Care to elaborate?” Simon practically hears her smiling, as she asks that. His hand covers hers under his shirt. “Go wait for me in bed, love. I'll be there in five.” Their voices are muffled, his fingers sink into the rye-gold of her hair, the other hand cradles her body in the most careful loving embrace. “Evenings, when I can steal you for myself alone.” His lips are brushing against her jawline. “Evenings, when you can feel safe in my hands.” His body is radiating with heat, making her pull off her shirt after a short time. “Evenings, when you don't need to be strong and composed, and can lose yourself under my touch.”

Eventually her pants are too so warm and uncomfortable. Simon helps her out of them. They stay snuggled as he keeps describing her his last wish, his chin resting on top of her head, his fingers slowly drifting up and down her spine. Christines mind slowly drifts as he purrs his most treasured memories of them two into her ear. At the back of her mind, she questions herself, how many of those evenings are there left. But his heat and the hardness beneath Christine make her forget those fears. The way he, a hardened soldier, a living breathing legend of the battlefields frowns under her touch… The way his breath hitches every time her fingers casually slide up the inside of his thigh… This is all too much to still count their coming evenings. Simon too eventually stops reminiscing on the past and concentrates on what is important right now: her in his hands. His fingers slowly caressing her through the underwear, his lips forming the most beautiful, yet unspoken words along her ears and neck. Christine - not Riot, but his Christine looses her quiet and a tad bitter demeanor the moment his mouth slants over hers, pulling her into his lap, her panties pulled to the side. He makes her forget that stupid game, forget her doubts and pains with a first solid thrust. Rolling her over, cradling her body underneath his, dragging small whimpers and moans from her lips - this is another night to remember. Another night, he'd wish, he could relive again and again. 

After her first release Simon lowers his mouth to her ear and asks “Any particular wishes for your second round, dear?”. Her eyes are wet, darkened with a thick veil of desire. “You were so gentle… I'd love you to be bolder this time.” “How much, love?” His smile is loving, but his voice grows somewhat sinister.

She grits her teeth and exhales. “I want it rough. I want to feel every vein, every single inch… But not your mercy this time.”

His chuckle is low, and dark, and not at all soothing as his palm slides up to squeeze her breast. “Is that all?”

She shudders a breath, realizing what a deep void she has just discovered.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley mw2 #cod simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley x female oc #cod x oc #cod ghost smut #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x oc

[themusicmansstuff]

Hive headcanons that i have but make little sense

When they escaped being frozen they were all sick for weeks

Billy numerous has full on conversations with his clones when he’s alone

Everybody has walked in on them at least once

The hive have 2 photographs of the team framed somewhere in the base like lil family photos

One is with jinx and the other is without

Gizmo is like 10 years old

either seemore or mammoth cook, if not then they all get takeout

Kyd brought home a cat once while it was raining and now it roams outside of the base

Everytime it rains its brought inside

Seemore became the new leader after jinx left

Speaking of jinx and the titans and such i think they would lay low for a while but still do some light thievery

Seemore, mammoth and kyd prefer to go to the mall for their stealing while billy and gizmo go to video game stores

Gizmo is some sort of meta human

He is also Russian

I based this one off a fanfiction but billy watches crime documentarys

They all enjoy watching fnaf playthroughs

Mammoths favorite movie is ice age

They all have gotten much closer after jinx left for fear of others leaving

They have movie nights every friday and 7/10 its either an ice age movie or a tmnt movie

They are all also mega monkey fans and i hc that there is a movie being made about it in universe that they all plan to see in the theater

They plan to sneak into the theater

Seemore stole a record player because he thought it looked cool but kyd and billy are the ones who actually use it

The hive had to move bases due to jinx knowing where the old one was so billy sadly had to leave his cars behind

They all tried living in an apartment once as “normal civilians” while they were laying low

During that time, seemore got a job as a fast food employee, kyd got a job as a cashier, mammoth got a job as a construction worker and billy dragged gizmo along to a mechanic job he got

Getting the jobs were very hard cuz of their criminal records that needed to be hidden but the jobs sucked, payed not enough for rent and the apartments in general were gross and cramped

They did manage to get that annoying guy next door evicted after he played music way to loud for the 50th time so they count that as a win

They ended up just scrounging around for abandoned placed after they left the apartments and lived in an abandoned hidden hotel in the city

By hidden i mean that one of the only entrances was in a thin alleyway and the others were barricaded

They went to a fair after they settled in the new place and ran into the titans including jinx and kid flash

They did that thing where they disappeared behind a passing truck and just booked it all the way home

They went back next week

They had horses at the fair and thats when kyd found out he was allergic to horses

Also gizmo brought home a rat and kept it in his room for a month before anybody found it

This is getting too long so ill cut it here but ill post some more hive hcs later

#hive five #original teen titans #teen titans #seemore #gizmo teen titans #mammoth #billy numerous #kyd wykkyd #jinx teen titans #kid flash #headcanon #teen titans headcanons #hive five headcanons

[tickling-giggles]

Sb /fnaf tickle hcs🥺 pls!

A/N: No problem anon! Idk if you only wanted sb or a mix of both so I did both😀 (more like a crossover)

Fnaf (Sb) tickle HC’s

Glamrock Freddy

He is a switch at heart

The sweetest ler you’ll EVER meet

He is obviously the sweetest of the bunch

Once he was helping Sun at the daycare and he played this adorable game with them

There is this honey squish mellow and you had to steal it from him without getting caught

And if you had got caught he would tickle you

They’d called him a tickle bear once and it made his day

If you tease him it’ll end up backfiring

“You should just make this easy freds and tell me where your ticklish at” “ my sihihides”

The Ler is just… exe.stopped working

His laugh is so adorable

He’s everyone’s favorite Lee I dare you to tell me otherwise

Very ticklish on his stomach p.s telling his he has a ticklish belly or tummy gets him squealing and snorting

He’s the “teasing makes it worse” type I don’t blame him

Very open to tickling

Surprisingly he doesn’t blush very easily or get flustered

Freddy

He’s for sure a Ler

HE IS SOOOO SASSSY OML

He likes to be tickled when he’s tired or in a soft mood

He himself prefers to be the tickler

Once Monty accidentally tickled him when tightening up a bolt and accidentally scratched him with the screwdriver

Monty looked at him and laughed because of the way he squawked and jerked away

Ever since then Monty would sneak in tickles here and there

It was just there secret

He cackles….😭 YES HE CACKLES

BUT only if you’re tickling his armpits while teasing him thats what really gets him going

OML OML ONLY BONNIE MOON AND MONTY KNOW THIS BUT

WHEN HE IS SLEEPY HE LOVEEEES LIGHT TICKLES but he’ll never admit to it

Don’t ask how Monty obtain such delicate information but one they were watching a movie until Freddy fell asleep and something came over him

And next thing you know he was lightly scratching behind his ears AND HE STARTED GIGGLING

YES HE WAS GIGGLING IN HIS SLEEP

Monty was intrigued but he’ll never tell Freddy that

Very ticklish under his arms and his knees believe it or not

HE IS A DEVIOUS LER OML

Talk abt teasing not stop Jesus 🥱

“Oh what? it can’t tickle that badly” “im trying to tell you something serious and yours laughing at me that’s rude you know”

“Ooooh you’re ticklish here? Awwww that’s too bad HA”

LIKE BRUHHHHH

Idc what ANYONE SAYS fnaf Freddy is wayyyyy sassier than sb Freddy

Glamrock Chica

A switch leaning lee at heart

She’s also one of the sweet ones

She doesn’t mind being the tickler or ticklee

HER BEAK IS TICKLISH AND ITS SUPER ADORABLE ROXY AND BONNIE WERE THE FIRST ONES TO FIND OUT

And she’s just sit there and squirm it’s really FRIGGEN cute

She’s also open about tickles

She’ll ask others if they want to have a tickle fight

She’ll compliment you when she tickles you but ofc everyone still considers it teasing

“Omg did you just snort wait do it agian” “you’re laugh is so cute” “you have such a pretty smile”

She chirps instead of snorting

It’s very ADORABLE EVERYTHINV ABT HER IS ADORABLE AND NO ONE CAN CHANVE MY MIND

Roxxane and Bonnie love to tickle her but will they admit it? Nope

Her and Sun are both rays of sunshine

Out of all of the tickle fights she loves having them with him the most

Don’t tell anyone else that 🤭

Chica

The least ticklish out of the bunch

She’s not that ticklish but she is ticklish where it counts

She also loves tickles

A switch

She prefers being a ler

She enjoys tickling people and making them happy

That’s her specialty

She is almost always somewhere in a tickle fight

She does not play fair when it comes to a tickle fight

Very ticklish under her arms and behind her knees

When to tickle behind her knees she IMMEDIATELY folds 😭

She played duck duck goose with a twist that only she knew about

It’s the same duck duck goose rule but once Chica caught you she’ll tickle your worst spot for a good “10 seconds”

Yeah it wasn’t no where near ten seconds more likeeeee until you’re beet red or until you slapping the floor

She squawks if you tickle her long enough it’s funny

That’s Chica for you 😭

Roxxane (Roxy)

Ler-leaning switch

Shes starting to adapt of being tickled not that she hated it before

But with Chica’s (sb) reassurance she started to view it differently

She still preferred to be the tickler instead of the ticklee

Gets into lots of tickle fight with both chica’s

She is foxy’s wing girl

THEY ALWAYS TAG TEAM SOMEBODY LIKE OML

Like if foxy is recking someone you already know Roxy is right there helping him and vice versa

ONE OF THE EVILEST LER DUO

Her sides are her worst spot considering she keeps it exposed your setting yourself up roxy smh

Also she has ticklish ear oml it’s so cute

She loves hates when her ears get all messy or twisted then someone hash to clean them or twist them back

And she tries her best not to laugh while she’s giggling and squirming around

SAME THING WITH HER TAIL OML

Very few people know about her ticklish tail *AHEM GR CHICA AND BONNIE AHEM*

Foxy

devious Ler

Don’t let his looks fool you he is ticklish very ticklish in fact

He also has ticklish ears like Roxy

Very ticklish armpits too

His winggirl is Roxy but he helps out Monty if he “feels like it”

His bs excuse lines are “they’ve been pissing me off all day” “they stole my ___”

WHEN IRL YOU HAVENT and when you even try to tell the truth he starts blowing raspberries

I know very torturous

His teases I feel bad for whoever get tickled by him

“What’s wrong? Oh wait you’re ticklish? I never noticed” “it tickles? Well no shit Sherlock” “you said tickle your ribs? Well okay you said it not me”

LIKE NO ONE EVEN TOLD YOU THAT SIR

This mf is a handful

And don’t let him get into a tickle fight HE WILL 89% of the time will call for reinforcements aka Roxy

And when you call him scary or a loser for him not tickling you on his own….

Baby THATS A BIGGGGGG MISTAKE. Monty found out the hard way…

He’ll tell Roxy nevermind and WILLWRECK YOU MAKE YOU APOLOGIZE THEN MAKE YOU CALL MERCY.

I know he’s the worst frl🤧

Monty

He is also one of the snarky ones yeah Ik not surprising

Ler-leaning switch

He tries to cover up his laughs with one hand and “tries” pushing away the tickler

Your best choice biggest mistake I’d going for his tail

When you tease him with the classic “I didn’t know you were ticklish”

He’ll lie and blame that it’s a glitch in his system

STOP WITH THE LIES MONTY

But seriously he’s like hella ticklish there like squeal high pitch ticklish yeahhhh… Bonnie told me

When you tickle him he’ll still tease you and it FRIGGEN works… I know it’s sad

“Wow you suck ahahat tickling take a class would yahAhahAHa”

It’s like your getting a teasy lecture the entire time

The man doesn’t literally shut up unless it’s Bonnie tickling him 🥱

Yeah nobody knows what power Bonnie hold to get Monty to shut up while being tickled

Like teach me your ways

AND FREDDY BOTH OF THEM

The three of them can get him to shut up and no one knows how they do it

Foxy was only able to do it once and that was when Monty called him scary

Boy was that a day for Monty

Foxy had to charge him up because he was on low battery because of foxy

Bonnie

He is somewhat shockingly snarky no sassy

Yes him

Switch leaning lee

His ears and neck….. SUPER TICKLISH just threatening him gets him giggling

He gives you a tickle nickname that only you and him know GR Chica’s is squeaker

And GR Freddy is tickle bear

He rarely gets tickled unless it’s a 2v1

People think that it’ll be hard to pin him down when I’m reality it isn’t

But he won’t tell them that he’ll just laugh everytime someone says that

Bonnie is a bully

NONONO LET ME TELL YOU WHAT HE DOES

After him being tickled by the Ler long enough he notices a pattern

For example everytime they tickle him they always attack his sides first

So the next time they do it he won’t laugh making them think that they’re crazy or delusional

They look at him confused and he loves it

He does NOT shut up when he laughs it’s so cute

He’s laugh his head of beet red teary eyes just constantly insulting you, calling you names, and telling you not there.

It’s pathetic but funny

Youhuhu suhuHuck lohohohserAHA AHAHA NOHOHO”

He loves playing tickle games when he’s the Ler ofc and when he’s the lee

HE ADORESSSS SOFT TICKLES ESPECIALLY WHEN HE IS SLEEPY

Tbh who doesn’t

Only a few people know about it both Freddy’s know glamrock Chica knows and sunny knows

Surprisingly Sun gives him soft tickles the most

Sundrop

Everyone’s favorite lee

He catches no breaks

But it’s okay because he doesn’t mind it

He enjoys laughing and being tickled

And of course as you would expect moon tickles him the most

I mean it’s apart of having a sibling

Especially twins they’re ying and yang

One twin likes to make the other laugh and the other twin like to laugh

Sunny is always the first person to get tickled in a group tickle fight

Sunny can and will tease

That innocent shit YEAH

No one knows why it’s working

But if you’re being a brat AHEM MOONY MONTY AND FOXY then he’ll pull the innocent stunt on you

But if not he’s like GR Chica with the compliments

Also back when they were younger moon still doesn’t know till this day if he was doing it on purpose or if it was a tech issue

But you know how you teasingly ask someone “where’s your worst spot”

Yeah sun actually told him

And the funny part was Sun didn’t even realize it

But sadly luckily he doesn’t do that now

His rays and behind his neck EXTREMELY ticklish

Like and just light scratches makes him weak

He’ll always add a twist to the game just for good measure

Gotta make sure everyone is having fun

His job is to put a smile on everyone’s face

Moondrop

A Ler leaning switch

VERY TICKLISH NECK

He gets sooooo flustered and embarrassed by “does this tickle” / “this must tickle bad huh?”/ “I didn’t expect you to be this ticklish” teases

HE’LL BLAME IT ON HIS SENSORY SYSTEM LIKE BOY

Why lie?

It’s okay if you’re ticklish

That’s not even the only one

HE HAS A SHIT TON OF EXCUSES

Like “that’s boy’s a liar”— PinkPanthress

He tickles the energetic kids to sleep when it’s nap time

Omg if teasing was a sport he would’ve made it to the olympics

He always teases doesn’t matter wasn’t going on or who’s the ticklee or the tickler

He is a certified instigator

One time Bonnie and glamrock Chica were going at it and she jokingly called Bonnie a silly rabbit

And moon so happens to be around when she said it and told Bonnie “you’re just gonna take that? Me personally I’d tickle the snot outta her but that’s just me”

But his laugh is heartwarming his pleads make everyone fell better because normally he’s being a brat

“NAHAHAAH OKAY WAIT AHAHAHHAA I GIHIHIVE TIHIHIME OUT”

I mean he brought this on himself

Very ticklish wires

Like No everyone’s wires are ticklish but his? SUPER TICKLISH

Like R.I.P fr

#kiara answers #anon ask #fnaf sb tickles #fnaf tickles #lee!freddy sb #Ler!freddy sb #lee!freddy #Ler!freddy #lee!Chica sb #Ler!Chica sb #lee!chica #Ler!chica #lee!roxanne #Ler!roxanne #lee!foxy #Ler!foxy #lee!monty #Ler!monty #lee!bonnie #Ler!bonnie #lee!sundrop #Ler!sundrop #lee!moondrop #Ler!moondrop #lee!sun #Ler!sun #lee!moon #Ler!moon #lee!roxy #fnaf tickle hcs

[gerbiloftriumph]

Floating Castle Liveblog (first read)

The King's Quest series has been graced with a very silly and very wonderful trilogy of adapted novels, and of them all, the first is my favorite. I have read it more times than I should, and liveblogged my musings on Goodreads in real time, er, multiple times.

Below is my first readthrough. Follow along with my initial, baffled, but ultimately delighted, self. Obviously, spoilers for an objectively terrible but subjectively amazing video game novelization from the 90s.

(and if you want to read the Floating Castle yourself, well, [I'm sure there are avenues online] but you didn't hear that from me)

May 7, 2018 –

page 0

Let it be officially known: I am terrifically excited to read this, and a little nervous, too. Please be good. Please be good. But please don't be SO good that I want to break my wallet trying to get a copy of See No Weevil. [side gerbil note: at the time, one of the only copies of See No Weevil, the third book in the series, available for purchase online was selling for $8k. No, that's not a joke.]

page 6

I miiiight be wrong, but wasn't Merlin's Mirror blank for all the years Alexander was missing, too? I have a feeling I read that somewhere...eh. I should read the actual game manuals sometime.

page 9

It's a touch on the fluffy side. A whole paragraph is dedicated to Alexander getting out of bed. But, let's be clear, that fluff worked really well a few pages ago with the storm, so. Plus, it's from the 90s, so. For some reason fantasy from then seems to be fluffy

page 10

You out of shape magician boy, you. Then again, 4 deep flights of castle steps (probs rough flagstone, rather uneven) is probably hard to climb, so. Fair.

page 14

Graham is such a good king. Like. Really really good.

page 26

Come on, magician prince. You can think of somethiiiing.

page 18

Sir Brian of House Blessed, I presume.

page 40

A: Oh, you stuck Graham's soul in a crystal? Very Ocarina of Time of you. What year did this come out? B: ...why is this actually kind of a good book? Like, from an honest fantasy novel perspective, not just a King's Quest adaptation perspective, it's actually not that bad. Slightly dated with its fluffy descriptions, but I've read plenty of worse fantasy before.

page 47

I didn't expect to enjoy a magician turning into a tree as much as I am, and I love Alexander being all good and diplomatic and not swearing anyone out for Cyril's complete uselessness.

page 49

I wonder how old Alexander is. I don't think it's said. How far past Manannan are we? Has KQ5 happened yet? These are not crucial questions, and yet. I'm curious. Do we know about Crispin? He's probably fractionally more useful than Morowyn. But only fractionally, cos he's still mostly useless.

page 54

Alex (paraphrased): So. All I have to do is sneak into Telgrin's evil doom castle, figure out where he hid a crystal of undetermined size with King Graham's soul in it, steal it (it had better not be car sized), sneak out without getting caught, and get home before his empty body dies, and you can put the soul back in? Cyril (quote): Oh, yes. Almost certainly. Probably. I think. Sounds like a PLAN, guys. Let's go!

page 54

Addendum to the above REALLY AWESOME PLAN. Do it before Telgrin tortures Graham's soul into hideous unrecognizability. Y'know. No pressure or anything.

page 58

I like Cyril. Road trip with the boys!

page 65

What sort of spooky ringwraith nonsense....

page 74

That’s....that’s just lembas bread. Literally just lembas.

page 81

Okay, there’s a thing I don’t like. Little episodic things periodically happen but so clumsily. I think it’s to give Alexander “items” to solve later puzzles, like the games. Direct quotes here: “Good apple,” Cyril said. “Very good.” “Sweet.” “Mmm.” And that’s the end of the exchange. Like. I get it, apples will probably be important later but. That dialogue is less than riveting

May 8, 2018:

page 87

"He’s going to try to ride a kelpie. I’ve never been so excited about a plot development in all my life!

page 108

I very much enjoyed that bit with the ogre, and now we’re hiding in barrels to sneak in. This book is like, nothing but all the best possible Fantasy Highlights.

page 123

Also, I’m fond of this exchange: “You are an evil man.” “So it has been said.” Telgrin shrugged. “Personally I’ve always found that such abstractions do not apply well to the real world. They make matters that are by their very nature complex seem rather too simple, don’t you think?” “Evil,” Alexander repeated."

page 133

Ewwww what is that thing. That’s a horrible beastie.

page 139

Where was he? Yes. Who was this beside him? Yes. Alexander those are not answers to your questions.

page 146

“All I’d have to do is wait until Telgrin is out of the room, step through the mirror, reclaim my father’s soul, and return through the mirror.” Alexander *liked* this plan."

page 162

It's absolutely just The Best Parts of Any Fantasy shoved together in one frantic ball of fury, with maybe three pages at most devoted to each new Fantasy Segment. I'm so into it. It's not a challenge to read by any stretch--I'd say it's middle grade fiction level--but, like, yo. It's crazy fun so who cares. (darn it, book, you broke my theory about where Telgrin had stuffed Graham. Boo. I was enjoying my guess.)

page 163

If my baby boy has broken his arm punching this ringwraith there will be hell to pay from me. I will protect this scarf-wearing lad at all costs. I say, when he's probably my age and knows at least a little magic and how to use a sword and has no problem crawling around dungeons and enemy castles.

page 165

Alexander is SUCH a pile of snark. Yeah, this is going well, he thinks. Now we have *four* knights chasing us.

page 168

“Cyril, I really don’t think—“ “*Enough.* there’s no time for discussion. Prepare yourself.” “No, Cyril, I— Aieeeeeeee!” Boys please

page 170

Are you KIDDING. It took us ages to get INTO the castle. And now we’re stuck outside again. P sure Telgrin is going to raise security after that debacle and kerfuffle you just caused.

page 175

Cuss the ever loving frick out of that tree root. You’ve earned a little less-than-princely reaction after this hell day.

page 181

Graham’s been soul-less for about a week at this point if I’ve added up right. He can wait a bit more, probably.

page 183

THIS IS NOT A HELPFUL SOLUTION TO THE MANY PROBLEMS AT HAND.

page 185

“Did you speak, Sir Frog?” “That’s Prince Frog to you.” Alex, please reign back the sass a little bit. You’re not helping matters.

page 194

We’ve found a princess, convinced her to smooch, he turns human again, and the first thing she says is “but....you’re *beautiful.*” Agreed, yo.

page 204

He’s been walking around with a hat this whole time? I hope it has a feather in it.

page 219

My baby Grahaaaaaam. Sorry about the week of agonizing torture. We came quick as we could. That whole scene with you and Telgrin was so cool and you’re so brilliant and I love your stupid regal face. Also. This exchange; “What happened?” “I’m not exactly sure. All I know is that Telgrin came uncomfortably close to killing me.” Y’know, no big deal.

page 223

"It opened its eyes, blinked, and said, “Hmph. What’s happening? Where am I?” “It’s all right, dear,” the first head said. “Go back to sleep. I am just going to kill this man here.” “Oh, that’s all right, then.”

page 228

I’m amazed Telgrin hasn’t raised hell and panic after losing Graham and his staff. Like. This isn’t a good event for our villain but we everyone seems remarkably calm.

page 231

“Is *everyone* in Daventry this obstinate?” Yes. You messed with the wrong royal family, tbh.

page 234

I love this. I love this book. In ways I cannot express because truly it is not a good book and yet. And YET. The setting is phenomenal, the cast both old and new entertaining, the language occasionally dips beyond melodramatic into actually decently lyrical, the action is relentless, and EVERYONE IS SASSY. Be it Alexander, Graham, this new princess, Telgrin. Everyone.

page 243

“I don’t suppose that you’ll tell me what you were up to.” “I don’t suppose.“ The sass is too strong. It’s blinding. I don’t want this book to end.

page 248

“You know, Alexander, I am not normally given to strong emotions. I do not often make declaration of animosity, for these do not agree with my usually thoughtful and scholarly nature. I must, however, tell you that I hate you.” The sass.

page 249

“The wonderful thing is, I have the power to make it all come true. All of it – the pain, the disfigurement, the death. I tell you, sometimes it’s a truly marvelous thing to be me.” Stars above I’m dying this is so good

page 250

This book is amazing. I am dying.

page 252

No, seriously. I am actually laughing out loud at this point. I love this. “She shall marry me unwillingly, or not at all!“

page 255

“Oh, I see the way of it. It’s blame-everything-on-Telgrin time, is it?” It hurts. My joy hurts too much. I’m crying with joy.

page 260

Cool guys don’t look at explosions.

page 269

This castle even has murder holes. Like. This is actually a good solid piece of fantasy, with accurate castles.

page 273

“I could attempt to fly you down.” All in all, Alexander thought he would rather just jump."

page 293

Graham is such a flirt.

page 297

No there’s no more page to turn!!!!!! Nooooooo I want moreeeee. .....aahHahdhsbdjdhdbuebfjxi.

May 8, 2018 – Finished Reading

five stars out of five stars

#the other liveblogs for the exact same novel will be coming--that's less a cheerful promise and more like an intimidating stare #please understand how heavily i fall in love with telgrin's bad emo villain game in future readings #this is but a taste of how fiercely he grabs my attention #yes i'm mostly doing this because goodreads is fed up with my liveblogging and is overwriting my status updates and i find that offensive #king's quest #kings quest #alexander (king's quest) #rosella (king's quest) #king's quest novels

[assortedvillainvault]

I beg of you I need more Eldritch horror x Hades it’s stuck in my head. Pleased I bev of you

Damn y'all be fans of the eldritch simping huh. WELL ON WE ROLL THEN;

Hades x Eldritch!Reader, Part Two:

You can't be there all the time, he understands, it's not like he's swimming in free time himself.

You're part of such a vastness that this dinky little solar system is only smidgen of your realm. Sometimes when he's talking to you he can tell that, while you're listening and responding perfectly, you attention is focused on something literal lightyears away.

It takes some frank communication to get the point across that he's Not A Fan of being ignored (and genuinely was kind of hurt at first, he thought you were getting bored of him and was trying so hard to bridge the sudden distance) but it wasn't until you offered to show him what you were looking at that he realised you weren't ignoring him at all.

"You, uh, wanna take me somewhere?" Hades was, admittedly, thrown entirely off his game by the affermative hum through his bones as he ignored the latest round of paperwork.

All your meet ups and encounters had been soley either on Earth or telepathic, with Hades more than happy to astral project while his body was safe in the Underworld.

Gods don't need air or gravity, but a certain amount of atmospheric pressure and warmth is certainly appreciated. You laugh gently in his mind and sooth down the edges of his flame, promising to provide that much and more. If he was willing of course.

It's with only slight apprehension that he shrugs and quips a yes.

He'll later describe the feeling of being pulled through the fabric of space as if being inside a bubble made of concrete silence that travelled at four times the speed of sound. It is with frankly heroic effort that he does not loose his lunch even as you pet and hold him in one great betentacled arm - your own body being the concrete shield from the radiation and debris of the universe.

He's not much one for sentimentality but seeing Earth and everything he has ever known zoom out to a dust mote in the darkness put him about a bit. He's unusually quiet during the journey despite gradually losing his death grip on your arm.

You don't think of time in terms of hours or minutes and Hades has no fucking clue how far Earth has gone around the sun before you 'stop' and gently rumble for him to open his eyes.

When Hades was a baby, Rhea used to sneak out with him, hold him up and point out the stars. Even when heavily pregnant with Poseidon, they would be hiding out there away from Kronos, quiet and wondrous for hours at a time. Hades can barely remember the feeling of being safe and warm under a jewelled sky.

It's absolutely blown away by the majesty of what you've brought him to.

The nebula swirls around you both like an ocean fused with a sunset, in every colour imaginable. He gawps at the sheer breadth of the clouds in every direction, so much larger even than you, a black mass against the glory of the stellar nursery.

You gently nudge him out of your grip. He yelps and scrambles before realising he's floating, then chuckles incredulously as he spins in place, wreathed in smoke and his own fire.

You giggle and poke him so he spins faster. He laughs and tries to slap you back with a "Hey! No fair sweetums!"

You guide his gaze over to an area chock full of glowing light. It's clouds are blazing electric blue, and the newborn stars within are twinkling as they stabilize. You wrap him up again as you purr that he reminds you of them and there's no force in this universe that can stop the blush that rises in him from that statement.

It feels like you spend forever there amongst the light of newborn space, gently cruising amongst the mass. Hades feels the stress of existence slip further and further back towards Earth, a peace unlike anything since he was a child taking over.

Soon, you promise, you'll take him to see a supernova. A stars death is just a spectacular as it's birth, after all.

He snuggles down harder and struggles not to fall asleep, your subsonic voice rattling through him in a way that others would call him crazy for finding comforting. The freezing cold of space feels like a balm on his constantly overheated skin. The pressure of your touch under his hands like silky steel.

Absolutely. He's definitely doing this again. Thanks Babe, he needed this.

#thalassa responds #hades x reader #hades #space date time! #Even eldritch horrors get to be soft sometimes #I reckon Hades would actually love to be the less powerful one in a relationship for once #Mans' a stressed out mess who just needs a damn good excuse to relax and let someone else take the reins for once #x reader #disney villains #Thank you for the ask!!

[phantomwritr]

The Road Trip (3/?)

A quick and short part 3 of The Road Trip (with Max and Lewis) for you!

— x —

Max drove them to their first overnight stop in Luxembourg, about two hours south from Spa.

Neither driver spoke on the way there and the energy in their mandatory ‘daily report’ was lukewarm if not ice cold.

The following morning, they decided to get on the road bright and early. “So, since you’re navigating today, where are we headed?” Max asked as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

“Our first destination is Milan,” Lewis said, shooting the camera a cheeky look. “Let me know if you want to switch on the way, all right?”

“Hey! Don’t question my driving skills like that,” Max complained as he took a bite of his apple.

“All right,” Lewis said, ignoring the jab. “Turn onto the A1 please.”

The first hour passed mostly in silence. When Lewis wasn’t navigating, he was sitting cross-legged as he stared out the window. The second hour passed in much the same way, but by the time the third hour rolled around, Lewis had enough.

“Are you really not going to say anything?”

“Why would I,” Max said. “I have nothing to say.”

“As I recall, you asked me to come on this trip with you. For the socials, you said. Could you at least make an effort, or are we really aiming to bore our fans to death?”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Lewis sighed and reached for the glovebox. “No doubt they’ve left enough for us to find in case we didn’t know what to do.”

Indeed, Lewis pulled free a stack of cards. “Oh. Let’s see, the navigator asks the questions and we both have to answer. We each get to pass two questions maximum. Ready?”

“Yeah, all right,” Max said as he turned right onto the A355. “First question. Simple one. What’s your favourite colour?”

“Blue,” Max answered without even taking a moment to think as Lewis said, “Purple.”

“Second question. Do you have any pets?”

“I have two cats. Jimmy and Sassy,” Max said. “And you have Roscoe,” Max answered for Lewis. “Indeed I do. Do you happen to know what breed he is too?” Lewis asked as he stifled a chuckle and attempted to keep the conversation going.

“Can’t be anything other than an English Bulldog, no?”

“Correct,” Lewis said, not even surprised Max knew.

“Then counter-question, can you guess what breed Jimmy and Sassy are?”

“Hey! That’s not fair! My dog is basically a public figure whereas your cats only occasionally feature on one of those streams you do. But I think I read somewhere that they’re Bengal cats?”

Max arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Are you stalking me, Hamilton?”

Lewis didn’t bother answering the question and muted the audio. “All right, that’s enough fun and games for now. Uhm, should we get lunch in Basel and then I’ll drive until we get to Milan?”

Max shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Lewis unmuted the audio, but once again silence reigned supreme, the easy conversation and banter from earlier gone.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, far away from the road-tripping drivers, an argument was taking place.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. When they make it through this road trip, we tell them.”

“But why do we have to tell them?”

“Because if my suspicions are correct and they do make it through this road trip unscathed, we’re not going to be able to sneak around for much longer.”

“But only if they make it through this. What do you know that I don’t, Wolff?”

“Not if, when. And patience. You’ll get what I am talking about soon enough, Horner.”

—x—

Let me know your thoughts :)

#4433 #formula one #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #f1 fanfic #christian horner #toto wolff #f1 rpf #mawis #the road trip au #the road trip #the mawis road trip #phantom’s rambles

[ktwritesstuff]

Nothing Else Matters (a Triple Frontier shifters AU) Chapter 2

Title: Nothing Else Matters Fandom: Triple Frontier Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Reader x Triple Frontier Boys reverse harem style Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: Sneaking around the family cookout with Frankie in flashback.

Chapter One | Chapter Two (below cut) | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Chapter Two.

After Tom and his wife separated, he had you basically squatting in an unsold condo in Jacksonville.  It was humiliating.  You were approaching your mid-thirties.  You were supposed to be settling down somewhere beautiful, raising children, expanding your pack’s territory.  Instead, you were barely scraping by.

Will agreed that if Tom gave permission you could stay with him; you could start your family and he would support you until Tom got back on his feet.  Tom refused outright.  Claimed it was too complicated with Molly and the girls (you didn’t know what he had expected, taking a human mate.)  He was ashamed of his own inadequacies as a husband and a provider and he took it out on you.  It wasn’t fair, Will knew it, but he wouldn’t defy Tom.  You understood, but that didn’t keep you from resenting him.

The one nice thing about the shitty retirement community where Tom had you holed up was that in the summer, when the snowbirds flew north, you had the pool practically to yourself.  It was a rare weekend when Tom had the girls; you were celebrating with a cookout.  The boys came over to drink beers in the sun and enjoy time with the family. 

You even bought a new bikini for the occasion: blue with white flowers, cut to accentuate your curves, but still modest enough to wear around the kids.  Tess was at an age to understand just enough to blame you for her parents’ failed marriage, but you figured there was still hope for Evie.

You and Benny swam with Evie while Tess sunbathed and Tom, Will, and Frankie played a low-stakes game of Rook at one of the plastic tables on the deck.  Benny made a game of lifting Evie out of the water and launching her into the deep end of the pool.  

“Think you could do me?” you laughed, paddling towards him.

“Challenge accepted.”  

Benny squatted down to get his hands under your bum and as he lifted you out of the water you felt his fingers slip under the gusset of your bikini bottoms.  You hit the water with impressive force and made sure you were still tucked into your suit before coming back up for air.

“Again! Again!”  Evie cackled gleefully as she was doused by the splash.  

“Gotta give the people what they want,” Benny said, pulling you toward him through the water.  

This time when he reached under you, his fingers curled deep enough into your folds that it could not have been an accident.  You gasped, choking on a mouthful of water as you surfaced, kicking your feet at Benny, Evie happily joining in to drench him in the over-chlorinated water.     

“Hey, that’s enough of that,” Tom called as the water splashed over the edge of the pool.  “Come on Evie, adult swim.  Go get your sister to put more sunscreen on you.”

Benny swam toward you as Evie paddled dutifully to the edge of the pool.  

“You hear that,” he said, grabbing you by the thighs and maneuvering your legs around his minuscule waist.  “Adult swim.” 

He slipped one hand under the waistband of your bikini and pressed his nose to yours. 

“Not in front of the girls,” you pleaded, your eyes shifting to where Tess and Evie were toweling off by the pool house.  “They still think I’m their dad’s girlfriend.”

“Now why would they think a silly thing like that,” Benny said, bobbing through the water, inching closer and closer to the deep end.  

“It was Tom’s decision.”  And Tom’s word was law.  You supposed it was less painful for him to let them believe their father was unfaithful to their mother than for them to know the truth: that he was utterly unsuited to raising a family.  

“Ready?” Benny said, moving you into deeper water.  He could still stand comfortably, but even on tip-toes your head would have been under.  

“One.  Two. Three–” 

You held your breath and closed your eyes as Benny dunked both of you under.  He pressed his mouth over yours, bubbles rising from the place where your lips met, tickling your nose.  A game of underwater chicken, waiting to see who would break first.  

Benny gripped your neck hard enough to bruise; you squeezed your knees into his sides, trying to force the air out of his lungs until there was no space left between you.  Seconds passed that felt like minutes as your lungs burned.  Finally, you pushed away from him, kicking for the surface.

You came up gasping for air, and threw your hair back from your face.  Benny surfaced right after, grinning like a wolf, reminding you how little separation there was between the man and the animal.  It was all just Benny.

“I got you,” he teased, swimming toward you.  “No escape.”

You swiped a hand across the water to splash him as he cornered you against the side of the pool, putting his hands and feet on the tiled wall on either side of you. You held onto his wrists, pressing the flat of one foot into his crotch, feeling him getting hard through his swim trunks.

“This is nice,” Benny said, leaning into you.  “All of us together again.”  

“Only one missing,” you said, your eyes drifting toward Frankie, sitting alone on the deck.

Frankie had taken Santiago’s leaving hard.  First there was the drinking, then the drugs, then rehab, and then a second stint in rehab after Tom caught him freebasing in the bathroom at Louie’s Cantina.  You worried about him; he wasn’t like the others.  Frankie was a sensitive soul.

“Death from above!” Will shouted, before cannon-balling into the pool, drenching both you and Benny.

“Vengeance!” Benny cried, launching himself through the water after his brother.  You paddled back to the steps as they play-fought in the deep end, holding one another under long enough to make you nervous.  

You showered in the pool house and slathered yourself in lotion.  The smell of chlorine covered a multitude of sins, but it was murder for your sensitive nose.  You dried your hair as best you could and changed into a long knit dress.  By the time you finished, Tom and Will were fighting with the grill, calling out orders for hamburgers and hotdogs.  

It was now or never.  You slinked over to where Frankie was nursing a lukewarm beer and sat in his lap.

“Mi amor,” he sighed with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, setting his free hand on your knee.  “¿Come va?”

You draped one arm over his shoulder, plucking his ball-cap off his head and tossed it aside.  Frankie watched you curiously, but didn’t resist as you took his sunglasses off his face and placed them on your own head.

“Take me to bed,” you said, lifting your voice at the end of the phrase, although it hardly constituted a question.  

Frankie’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline.  You took his beer from his hand and set it on the table beside you.           

“Yeah,” he stammered.  “Lead the way.”

You took Frankie by the hand and led him through the gate, as Tom swore and tried to smother a grease fire that had sprung up under the hotdogs.  

Inside the condo was cold and dark.  As soon as you closed the door, Frankie had his hands all over you, pawing at your breasts, sliding his hands up the slit in your dress to grope your ass, kissing your neck and exposed collarbones, knocking his glasses off your head.  They clattered onto the tile and you nudged them aside with one toe.

“Que rico.  Yo te quiero mucho, Estrellita.  Dime que quieres.  Yo te amo.”  

Frankie always reverted back to Spanish when he was riled up.  You loved it, even if you understood less than half of it.

You sighed contentedly, tipping your chin back to expose your throat to him, his beard scratching against your sunburnt skin.  You ran your fingers through his hair and reached one hand down the front of his shorts to stroke him as he nibbled and sucked at the pulse point in your neck.

“C’mon, give it to me,” you cooed.  “Want you so bad.  Need you to take care of me, baby.”

A growl rumbled in Frankie’s chest as he pressed you up against the wall right there in the entryway.  He gripped your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip, lifting you just enough to press his hard-on against your sex, hot and throbbing with desire.

“That’s right,” you urged.  “Right there.”

Frankie kissed you hard and slow and deep, his tongue delving past the sharpness of your teeth.  He tasted like cheap beer and corn chips.  He massaged your breasts, hips grinding into you. Your back arched and you held his face in your hands.  Frankie pulled away from you with a soft moan, resting his forehead on yours, stroking your bare arms.

“Mind if I freshen up?” he asked, nodding toward the bathroom.

“Be my guest,” you said, wetting your lips.  

You took a seat on the sofa in the main room as Frankie ducked into the bathroom down the narrow hall.  As you waited, Will came inside.  He disappeared behind the kitchen island as he stooped down, opening the fridge.  

“We have any more cheese for the burgers?” he called.  “Tom burnt the first round to hockey pucks.” 

“Should be in the drawer,” you said, trying to keep your voice even and calm.

Will stood, package of Kraft singles in hand, and looked down the hall where the light shone out from under the bathroom door and the sound of the exhaust fan running.  He turned back to you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Just taking a break from the sun,” you said, hoping that would explain why you were sitting in the dark, panting with exertion, your face flushed.

You had smothered yourself in rose oil to cover the smell of heat and sex, but it didn’t matter.  Ironhead probably knew your cycle better than you did.  

“You have got to be kidding me,” Will said.  “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“I’m a big girl, Will,” you said.  “I’ll do as I please.”  

“Tom said no.”  Despite his protests, Will kept his voice low as he came around the counter from the kitchen.  You rose to meet him in the hall.

“Tom doesn’t own me,” you said.  “He seems to forget that. Maybe you have, too.”

“And maybe you’ve forgotten we have rules for a reason,” Will said, always playing the good soldier.

“Just because you’re not man enough to do it, doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do,” you snarled.

“Fuck you, Ginger,” Will said, slamming the door behind him on his way out.

You watched him storm away through the front window, sticking out your tongue and lifting your middle finger, catching a glimpse of your eyes flashing amber in your reflection in the glass.

Frankie came out of the bathroom smelling like mouthwash and Old Spice deodorant.  It looked like he had made an attempt to tame his curls, dampening down unruly hat hair.  The gesture softened your raging heart.  

“Hey,” he said, sensing the change in you.  “Is everything okay?”

You shook your head, snaking your arms around his waist, comforted by his warmth, the subtle softness of his belly.  

“I’m fine–a little sun sick.”

“You sure?” he asked, brushing a hand over your hair.  “You want to lay down for a bit?”

“You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled up at him and took his face in your hands.  “I just want you to be sweet to me.”

“Okay,” Frankie said, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.  “Let’s go to bed.”

You pulled Frankie into the bedroom with outdated wicker furniture and closed the door behind you.  You lifted your arms, prompting Frankie to pull your dress off over your head.  Your breasts were probably too big to go braless, but you did it anyway.  Your nipples pebbled in the cold air as Frankie ran his fingers across the tops of your breasts.

You sank onto the bed, sliding across the cheap polyester sheets as Frankie pulled your panties off.  You leaned back on your forearms as he knelt between your legs, pulling his sweat-stained t-shirt off over his head.  You reached for his belt, unfastening the buckle and pulling the leather strap free.  

Frankie slid his hands under you, bowing his head to kiss a trail up the sensitive skin of your stomach.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, gazing up at you reverently.  “I still can’t believe I get to be with you.”  

“Come here,” you urged.  

Frankie sat up long enough to shuck off his shorts and boxers before laying down beside you, pulling the duvet up to ensconce you in a cocoon of warmth and darkness.  

The sound of Frankie whispering sweet nothings to you went straight to your core as his fingers circled your clit, dipping inside you.  You pressed your hands into Frankie’s chest as he fondled your stomach and breasts with his other hand.  Massaging and kneading until your body felt soft and pliant as dough under his hands.    

“¿Estás lista?” 

You murmured your ascent, opening your legs for him.  Frankie pressed the head of his cock into you, moving deeper with short, careful strokes.  

You ran your hands across the muscles of his back, feeling them flex and extend as he rocked into you.  Quick and shallow at first, then long and deep.  Your body tensed as the sensation built.  You scraped your nails across Frankie’s back, letting your head fall back, your mouth falling open with a gasp.

“I’m close,” Frankie warned, his back arching like a cat’s as he moved against you.  

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, hitching your legs over his hips to keep him inside you.  “Don’t stop, please.”

Frankie moaned and went limp, his weight dropping onto you.  Your inner walls contracted and relaxed as he came inside you, milking him for every drop of seed.  He moved to roll over, but you put your arms around him to keep him close, warming his softening cock in the heat of your arousal.

“Stay,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair.  “Can we just stay like this for now.  Please.”

Frankie nodded and bowed his head to your breasts with a sigh as you twisted his curls around your fingers.

“Yo te amo, Francisco,” you said, kissing the top of his head as he rested against you.

“Yo te amo, querida.”

#triple frontier fic #shifters au #reverse harem #reader x frankie 'catfish' morales #reader x santiago 'pope' garcia #reader x will 'ironhead' miller #reader x benny miller #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #charlie hunnam #garrett hedlund

[player1064]

How about something fluffy fluff where they have been in a situationship/fwb for a few years, both thinking the other one doesn't want anything serious, but irl both are insanely in love with each other and pining, until finally one of them cracks and confesses.

Your drabbles bring me so much joy, thank you. You should also continue the wife-gary saga.

I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING DUMB AND SILLY AND FLUFFY BUT OHHHH NO. MY BRAIN HAD OTHER IDEAS. Obviously the other day I was like 'in the wife-gary saga they were fwb who spent lockdown together' and so I wanted to write that but then it hit me just like. just what an Ordeal the lockdowns were and how insane it made everyone. So this came out less 'silly fluff' and a lot more 'earnest pining'. oops?

Also I've mentioned this on the carraville discord but did u guys know Gary and Jamie were literally together when the lockdowns first got announced like they literally watched the broadcast together then like. had to immediately pack up and go home. I feel INSANE every time I think about it. tbh.

---

“Feels a bit like the end of the world,” Jamie says one day, lounging on the sofa while the news plays softly in the background.

Gary looks over at him from where he’s sat a respectable distance away at the other end of the couch. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “it does a bit.”

Jamie had been thinking about saying – well, it doesn’t really matter, because he’s been thinking about saying it for three weeks now and still hasn’t got up the nerve. Instead, he smirks and says “y’know, in all the disaster movies I’ve seen the rich bastards always fuck off somewhere safe, don’t they?” He looks around Gary’s huge living room. “Maybe that pension of yours has finally come in handy, eh?”

“I dunno,” Gary says. “All just feels a bit wrong, to be fair.” He gets up with a sigh, brushes some imaginary lint off his trousers. “You got any more filming to do today, or d’you fancy helping me in kitchen?”

For a brief moment, Jamie considers making up some interview he has to go off and record so that he can avoid another dreaded ‘Gary (who can’t cook) tries to teach Jamie how to cook’ session, but then he remembers that this lockdown thing is already stretching out for weeks and weeks ahead of him, and if he’s going to be stuck here all that time he should probably try pulling his weight a bit more.

“Fine, but I’m not peeling any more fuckin’ carrots.”

*

When Jamie’s loading the dishwasher after dinner, Gary rests a hand on his hip and kisses him, soft and sweet.

“Come to bed?” he murmurs against Jamie’s lips, and Jamie wonders if he even remembers how to deny him anything.

*

Except he does remember how, and he hates himself for it. Because when Gary, already half-asleep, loosely wraps a hand around his wrist and says “stay,” he gently extracts himself from the tangle of sheets and goes back to the spare room.

*

They somehow manage to carry on like this, days spent on zoom calls from separate studies, evenings spent trying to muddle their way through whatever recipes they find online. Nights, more often than not, spent in separate bedrooms.

They’re actually having less sex, now that they’re living under the same roof. Before, every time they’d seen each other had been an excuse to find somewhere private to sneak off together, every accidental touch in studios or in stadiums had felt charged.

Now, they argue over what shows to watch on Netflix. They work out together most mornings in Gary’s little home gym. They stay up far later than two middle aged men have any right to, heckling each other through games of fifa and mario kart.

Sometimes, Jamie looks over at Gary and he’s got that same look in his eye that he normally only gets when he’s about to kiss Jamie. Sometimes Jamie smiles at the expression, starts to lean in, is left confused when Gary blushes and moves away.

Sometimes Gary does kiss him. Sometimes Gary does more than kiss him. It’s easy, familiar. Comforting. It’s a dance they’ve been practicing for four years now.

It’s still just as hard to return to his own bed afterwards as it had been four years ago.

*

Three months becomes six months becomes a year, and Jamie dreads going back to his own house, to the thick layer of dust that’s waiting for him there, to that quiet emptiness that he’s only just learnt to live without.

He almost catches himself thinking that he hates Liverpool.

But life has to go back to normal, that’s what everyone’s saying, so he packs up his things while Gary watches from the doorway of the spare room.

“Stay,” he says.

It’s the first time he’s asked without the excuse of the sleepy post-orgasm haze to hide behind. It’s the first time Jamie has to actually give an answer.

He shrugs, keeps his focus on the suitcase lying open in front of him. “No more lockdowns,” he says, all forced casualness. “’s not like either of us have much use for a housemate.”

“Jamie,” Gary says, taking a step into the room. “Stay.”

Jamie turns to look at him.

Gary won’t meet his eyes, is staring unblinking at a spot on the wall instead, lips pursed tightly together. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

Jamie really, really doesn’t want to go home.

“Maybe I can swing another week or two,” he says carefully, reaching out to brush the back of Gary’s hand.

He feels shaky fingers lace with his own, sees Gary’s eyes crinkle in a not-quite-smile. “D’you think y’could stretch it to a month?”

“Hows about a year?”

Gary breathes a heavy sigh of relief, his whole face breaking into a wide grin. “Hows about ten?”

“Fuck, Gary,” Jamie breathes, pulls him in by the front of his shirt. He kisses him firmly, then rests a hand on his cheek and says “rest of our lives, that’s me final offer.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Gary says, and kisses him again.

*

Later, they’re lying in Gary’s bed and Jamie’s not even thinking about the spare room.

Gary’s got the duvet pulled up to cover his bare chest, glasses perched on his nose while he scrolls on his phone.

“You got any plans a month from Thursday?” he asks idly.

“Not had any plans in a year, lad, might take a while for the calendar to fill back up. Why?”

“Fancy gettin’ married?”

Gary’s still just looking at his phone, his tone still light, but there’s a faint blush rising in his cheeks.

“Hmm, I’m still waitin’ on a better offer,” Jamie teases, “but I reckon I can pencil you in.”

#AGAIN SORRY FOR THE LACK OF FLUFF AND SILLINESS. this DID get away from me a bit #god theyre insane. yes theyd been fwb for 4 years yes they were living together a full year no they still cant say they love each other <3 #also yeah in case it was unclear this is now Officially part of the wife-gary saga (and thank u for giving it that name I love that...) #carraville #drabbles #wife gary saga