#oh fuck I wrote two essays

[metaltangodiva]

what are your thoughts on the different 'versions' of Krauser as well his various dynamics with Leon? Also do you have any advice for like...not being afraid to add your own interpretations and spins to characters? Like i think i care way too much about what people would think, so i'm a but scared to start posting anything, but at the same time I'd love to add to the fic collection lol

Hello hello~!

I wanna preface this quickly by saying I'm fucking unable to summarize anything, lmao. This turned out to be TWO ESSAYS.

I'll start by replying to the second question, because I sorta realized, about halfway through the answer, that I was writing a fucking essay on Metaltango and I didn't wanna overlook the second point of your message. Because it's super important to me, as a writer (amateur/hobbyist, but writer nonetheless) that people who want to write can do it.

And my suggestion is super easy: do it. Write the thing.

I know it's hard, I went through it too. It's hard to not compare yourself to other people, to go and think "man, they're not gonna like how I portray them". When I started writing "Normal", that was my worry. I was taking these badass, gun-toting, zombie-killing, masculine characters and putting them into a situation that's not only opposite to that, but pretty damn taboo in general. I've had Comments™. But whatever.

And what I tell people, when they say they're worried about how their stories are gonna be received, maybe because it takes a weird non-canon spin, or they feel their tropes are overdone, is:

Do it anyways. There's only you to craft that story you wanna see the way you want it; no one else can do it the exact same, even with the same prompts, the same tropes, the same characters. Everyone views things differently, and I think it's an amazing thing when it comes to art, well... almost everything, honestly. A saying that goes in a Discord server I hang out on is "there's nothing original anymore", but not in a bad way at all — so many works have the same themes, and yet they all still stand out somehow.

I might not the audience. This guy next to me might be, though! Or who knows, maybe *I* am the audience!

But you don't know any of this until you write it. Do it.

OKAY SO I GUESS THAT WAS PART ONE, lol.

SO LET'S GOO FOR PART TWO!

My thoughts on the different versions: I love them! Each version and each game brings something new to the table. I got started with RE4 (VR) — I liked how *aggressively homoerotic* that knife fight was.

Since it was my entry point to RE as a whole, I was curious as to *who* Krauser was, what was his relation to Leon, what happened between them, so on, so forth. Probably what a lot of people went through before Darkside Chronicles became a thing. His obsession for Leon and especially the *passion* behind it. Surely what happened between them was personal!

Then I heard of Darkside Chronicles and I had to play it for myself. So I did. And I was positively surprised when I saw Krauser as he was back around 2002. Gruff, rough around the edges, but just as snarky as Leon — and I love snarky characters. I felt their humor meshed so well. The "boy scout" exchange has lived rent-free in my head since I heard it. Same with the shared water bottle/indirect kiss. The snake/butterfly. Krauser starting as kinda dismissive of Leon, but quickly wisening up about it and treating him as an equal (and I feel it's more than that). And this became what I really wanted to see between them on the long run, hence why I started writing the AU "Normal" takes place in. They were such a good team, in spite of Krauser's wildly varying emotions.

Then RE4R came out, and it introduced them in a mentor/trainee relationship and I love that too. It's a whole different dynamic; Krauser's more serious but still does not shut up, Leon is still a smart mouth — I guess they clashed a lot overall and Leon can probably thank Krauser for all the extra push-ups and laps that gave him this *chef kiss* physique... but Krauser has a soft side to him. The guy really cared for his men, but as an instructor, as a soldier, as a superior and also as a human, probably couldn't voice it all too well. I cried when Leon picked up Krauser's knife, kneeled next to him and Krauser told him he was proud of him. That he had trained him well. It's a dynamic I wish I could capture well enough to put in words, but my real-life experience with anything army-related is nonexistent (well, so is my ageplay/military/"life as a couple" experience with "Normal", lol) and I feel I'd have a harder time with portraying it how I want to. So... I'm eventually gonna do it, outside of oneshots.

TLDR: Give me all the Krausers. They all bring something to the table <3

#metaltango #jack krauser #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #headcanon #i love them your honor #oh fuck I wrote two essays #DO IT

[kawaiichibiart]

I was going to talk about them together, but I want to develop more stuff for Sun!Spirit Yue before I talked about her, so I'll just talk about Moon!Spirit Zuko for now (:

While Agni is seen as the Fire Nation's main/biggest spirit, they hold Tui and La to a high standard. They're also important to them. Because it's a Nation made up of islands, of course they'll take spirits that would affect them seriously, they're not all morons like Zhao.

When Zuko was born, Ozai noticed he lacked the spark in his eyes that firebenders had. He was ready to toss him over the wall until Ursa and some sages talked him out of it. He gave his newborn son until the next morning to gain the spark. If he didn't, they would get rid of him.

Once he left, the sages told Ursa that being born when he was, the chances of Zuko being a bender were slim to none. They also noted how his breath felt irregular, as if he was struggling to breath. And ultimately told her that she should say her goodbyes because that baby was not going to make it through the night.

And so, Ursa began to pray. She prayed for the spirits to answer her. To save her son. Give him a chance at life. And she did this for hours until exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep. Certain that when she would wake up, her baby boy would feel cold in her arms. And if he was still alive, he'd lack that spark and she'd still lose him.

So imagine everyone's surprised when they wake up to Ursa's cry and rush to her room. And they see her and her son. Ursa has yet to notice them, but they're all looking at Zuko. Alive and hair turned a silvery gray.

One of the sages announces that Zuko had been blessed by Tui. The moon had blessed him. And Ozai is less than pleased. He demanda Zuko be thrown out anyways, as he had said Zuko had to have the spark in the morning. But Azulon was able to override his decision. This had to be a sign. A sign that the tides would turn in their favor. That they would have bountiful feasts. They had the sun AND the moon on their side now. Why else would the moon bless Zuko?

Because of this, Ozai doesn't treat Zuko like his son. He pretends he's a bastard, and that Ursa had slept with a Watertribe Savage behind his back. When Azula is born and shows signs of being a firebender, he dotes on her and claims she's his only child. Which leads to a rather conflicting environment for her to grow up in. She's constantly told Zuko is and isn't her brother. That he's a Savage's bastard child and that he is his father's son. She's a prodigy and he was blessed by a spirit upon his first night of being born. She started bending at a really young age and he had to further prove how much of a bastard he was when he began to waterbend.

So Azula and Zuko have a weird relationship. One parent acknowledges both as their children and the other only acknowledges one. One of them was prodigious firebender and the other was a blessed waterbender. Ursa tries to get them to spend time together and Ozai keep trying to keep them apart.

And then comes the day Ozai decides to present Azula to his father and ask him to be his heir (and the next Firelord). He doesn't bother to present Zuko, and later on, admits he saw no need to present the boy. Why would the Fire Nation ever accept a waterbender as their FIRELord? Azulon is enraged by his son's disregard for the moon's blessing and tells him to leave. He'd inform him of his punishment in the morning.

While they aren't sure where they stand in terms of being related, Azuka still tells Zuko what she overheard. And asks if he had any idea what the punishment could be. The best they could come up with is Ozai taking Iroh's place and continuing the siege of Ba Sing Se. However, they never got to find out, because Ozai had lied to Ursa and told her Azulon ordered him to kill Zuko. She didn't believe him, knowing he didn't care for him. And he knew that, which is why he then told her he would have Zuko killed if she didn't help him kill Azulon and leave. Leave and give up her children. He wished he didn't have to keep Zuko, but too many people would notice the blessed prince if he was absent. And so, Ursa killed Azulon and fled into the night after saying what she believed would be her final goodbyes to her children.

Ozai immediately named Azula his heir and continued to ignore Zuko. He had him moved into the servants area. He claimed what he always did, that he was a bastard. A child born out of wedlock. That Zuko isn't his real son. And everyone knows this isn't true, but none of them dare say anything. They stay quiet and do their best to keep Zuko away from Ozai.

When Iroh returns from his journey in the Spirit World, it's to his father being dead, Ursa missing, Ozai as the Firelord with Azula as his heir, and Zuko basically disowned and living in the servants quarters. He watches as his nephew fades into the background, as he learns his new place in the palace. He tries to pick up where Ursa left off in terms of helping Zuko and Azula connect as siblings, but Ozai sends her away to a prestigious all girls school and immediately takes over her lessons when she returns, thus making it impossible for the two to bond, and further sinking in the idea that Zuko is, in fact, a Savage's bastard child.

And then comes the day of the war meeting. Iroh enters and sees his nephew serving tea to the men there. Another servant is there as well, hands empty watching as Zuko likely does his first job. They begin to discuss things and how to further advance in the war. And the plan involving the 41st is brought up.

And just like in canon, Zuko speaks up against the plan. Only this time, because he isn't a firebender, because Ozai doesn't acknowledge him as his son, because he's not worthy of it, Ozai doesn't make Zuko fight in an Agni Kai. Why would he forsake a firebending duel so a waterbender could fight in it? Why bother giving him a chance to show his loyalty to the Fire Nation when he clearly doesn't have any. And before everyone in the room, he burns Zuko's face. He warns everyone not to say a word. That no one was to know of Zuko's permanent banishment. If anyone asked, he was simply sent away for protection.

He left, and just as he did, he told Iroh to inform Zuko that he would have until sundown to pack and leave. And Iroh is furious. He doesn't bother acknowledging his brother's words. He just carries Zuko out of the room and packs their bags while some of the servants do what they can to help the young boy.

At sundown, he leaves the palace with Zuko, refusing to let his nephew be banished alone. He's glad one of the servants was able to help him get a ship and a crew that was willing to leave the Fire Nation behind.

The first few weeks of Zuko's banishment were agonizing. From fever induced nightmares to Zuko's sudden fear of fire and needing a flask of water he could play with to calm down, it was a hard time. Iroh held his nephew when he told him he was banished from the Fire Nation with no way to return. While not a waterbender himself, he still taught Zuko. He isn't good, but he can do some things now. He helps Zuko get over his fear of fire and first chance he gets, swears to sends a message to Pakku asking him to train Zuko.

But before he can get that message sent, they're caught up in a storm. It's powerful and knocks them off course by several days. In fact, they're closer to the Southern Water Tribe now. And while, the chances are slim, Iroh decides they should see if any waterbenders survived and would be willing to teach Zuko.

They head towards the SWT when a large beam shoots up in the air. They think nothing of it, Iroh waves it off as likely an old flare, having learned that not all the FN ships had returned from prior raids. Since they were old, chances are they had little to nothing left of use and there was no point in finding it. It was likely that someone animal set it off by mistake.

They arrive and are met the remaining members of the SWT. They're weary of them and as soon as they lower the plank of their ship, one of them (Sokka) charged forwards with a spear.

But before he can even step onto the plank, the snow under him moves and makes him fall. He immediately blames Katara for this, because who else would do it? He charges forwards again and gets disarmed and beaten by one of the soldiers. The only one who's not wearing red, but rather white, only his golden eyes visible.

And then comes the question. Do they have any waterbending masters around?

Why would they ask that? Did they think more waterbenders had been born after the death of his and Katara's mom? Did they suspect she lied and just waited until now to get back at them? They deny having any waterbenders and say that even if they did, they would never tell them.

And that's when Aang shows up, knocking the soldier who had beaten Sokka earlier to the ground. And it's just:

Aang: Looking for me?

Zuko, getting up, hood knocked down, masked lowered: You're a waterbending master? You're just a kid!

Aang:...no? I, I thought you were looking for the Avatar!

Aang: and you're just a teenager!!

Katara: YOU'RE THE AVATAR?!

Meanwhile Sokka is having a crisis because oh sweet Tui and La, he's so pretty- (rip him when he arrives at the North Pole and experiencies it again with Yue)

But Aang still wants to know why they need a waterbending master. He also feels foolish for admitting to being the Avatar and wonders if he can play it off as him pretending when he sees the boy he'd knock over play with a ball of water.

Oh...

OHHH!!!

He was looking for master for himself!! Well, he made the offer to Katara, he could make it to this new kid as well. And so he does. The boy, Zuko as they learn from the older looking man who called him that, hesitates before agreeing. He leaves, saying he was going to get Appa, it'd be faster and more fun that way. But before he can, Katara says she's also going with him. To make sure nothing happens of course!! Of course.

He gets Appa and returns, happy to see Zuko and Katara seem to be getting along and talking about finally learning to bend from a master waterbender. The two of them and Sokka (who's reluctantly joining them) get on Appa.

The older man from before introduces himself as Iroh, Zuko's uncle. He thanks Aang for helping his nephew and let's him know that they'll be tailing them from a distance. Zuko has a map where Iroh had marked neutral ports they would dock at if they ever needed anything. Once they reach the NP, Iroh will lead the FN ship towards the Earth Kingdom and head towards Ba Sing Se. He'd appreciate it if he helped his nephew get there once they finished.

And the four head off. It's awkward and tense for a while before Katara asks Aang about being the Avatar and he tells them his story. How he never wanted to be the Avatar. But because he doesn't want to get further into it, he deflects her question to ask Zuko about being a waterbender and if he's from the Fire Nation.

And they learn, that not only was Zuko from the Fire Nation, he was the prince once. He told them how his mother had told him about his blessing, how surprising it was that Tui answered her prayers. How the man who was supposed to be his father claimed to only have one child, his younger sister and how as soon as the old Firelord, his grandfather, died, he immediately removed Zuko from the line of succession and moved him into the servants quarters.

He learned very early on that his father hated him and he hated him more once Zuko began to bend. How he'd tell him he was weak for being afraid of his own element after he almost drowned and frozen the water around him in his panic and managed to climb out. He wasn't allowed to bend so he always did it in secret and only really began to do so when he got banished. They had originally been planning on heading to the Northern Water Tribe so he could finally get proper bending lessons.

It certainly did explain his appearance anyways.

And now for some bullet notes:

Zuko doesn't go through his redemption arc in this AU. Because Ozai's made his stance perfectly clear, Zuko knows there's no point in trying.

For a while, Katara and Sokka think Zuko is the child of a waterbender and a FN soldier.

Ozai knows he can't actually disown Zuko, considering his blessing was made public. But he can send him away for safety, the public doesn't have to know he was injured already and might die from his injuries and will never return.

Katara and Zuko become friends a lot earlier. They bond over not having a master to teach them and having to teach themselves.

Azula's memories of Zuko definitely conflict with what Ozai tells her. She has memories of her mother with a silver haired boy by the turtleduck pond, urging her to join them. She remembers her mom insisting the boy was her brother. But...he looked so different.

Because his hair stands out so much, Zuko tends to hide it. Whether it's a hood, a scarf, so long as it's hidden.

Ozai ordered Zhao to see to it Zuko was actually dead. When news reaches them that the Avatar has returned, he tells him to capture him and bring him back to the FN, so Zhao is the one chasing Team Avatar.

Sokka joining reluctantly is all because of Gran Gran, who told him to go so he could keep an eye on the three. He's basically their babysitter and he's not really happy about it (he gets over it).

Because he spent some years living and learning from the palace servants, Zuko will help Katara do chores, which endears him to her enough to be claimed as her new best friend.

I'm going to leave there for now, next time I update about this AU hopefully I have a lot to say about Sun!Spirit Yue (:

#zuko #seeing how much i had to write for zuko #and knowing yue only had a fraction of what i had written for him #can you see why i decided to wait until i developed more info for her before sharing anything? #it doesn't seem fair that i give zuko an essay and yue an excerpt :/ #this au focuses on both of them she should get this treatment as well #and she will i swear to fucking god #also potentially debating yueki and zukka or yuezukki (: #because ideally i find a way to keep her and zuko alive #but do we go two gay as hell ships or fuck yeah polyamory? #....part of me also wonders if i already wrote about this au....oh well (: #sun spirit yue moon spirit zuko au

[ambreiiigns]

kind of dying to know 1. what you looked up and 2. what it spat back but also warning everyone that this triggered something in me and as soon as i get out of the shower i'm gonna infodump abt ichi the killer 2001 dir takeshi miike so hard

#some might say girl you already talked abt ichi the killer. after you watched it. #i say I Don't Fucking Care i like it so much #i'm dying to watch it again but it's TWO+8MINS HOURS LONG it's a bit of a BITCH to watch and i am NOT watching it in italiana again #also i can't talk to anyone of my friends or whatever. directly. abt this. it feels evil to tell people abt this #so tumblr post it is #might be reminiscent of that time last year i wrote a fucking delirious essay abt texas chainsaw massacre who knows #oh nay

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

#Feli speaks #in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat #euphrasie isat #head housemaiden #ALL THE TAGS. I NEED PEOPLE TO LOOK AT THIS. PLEASE. IT'S 1:30 IN THE MORNING. #i spent two hours on this i think

[suguruplsr]

jerking him off in public

✰ ✰ ✰ you just had to tease him , he’s so distracted it’s cute ! but keep teasing and you’ll end up in the back seat

જ⁀➴ wrote this with my pussy.

,, switch!suguru x switch!fem!reader , public , exhibition? , jerking off , reader could be seen as chubby , drabble.

Suguru’s hand ran up your thigh, slipping past the cute black stockings you wore and squishing the small plush of your thigh. “You look so cute today..” he smiles, seemingly innocent. yet you try to pay no mind, “really? thank you sweetheart.” your voice was soft, focused on the document you typed in.

you two were at, a nearly deserted, starbucks. sitting in a small secluded booth as you worked on your essay. only a few people were inside, doing the same as you and completing their work with caffeine to keep them up during the morning. there was occasional chimes of the doors, tired workers coming in to get their everyday to go drinks.

and you looked so adorable today, already dressed up for your brunch with your friends in the next few hours. the skirt you wore was one he picked for you, knowing you weren’t used to wearing them. and god, it left little for the imagination. the stockings hugging your skin weren’t helping him much either. he swears, he loves your body so much. he’s happy that it’s all his to worship at night, morning, anytime. he’s so lucky to be dating you, he thinks.

the way your eyes narrowed in concentration as you proofread your essay had his heart beating faster, and his cock pulsating. it reminds Suguru when you’d glare down at him cutely whenever he’d stop eating out your cunt, just to tease.

Suguru let’s out a small groan at the thought, his hand tightening around the plump of your thighs. you looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, “you good?” you whisper, such a genuine look in your eyes, not even noticing the state you had him in. “need you to help me baby..” he whines under his breath, his eyes flickering to the small bulge in his sweats.

seeing the peak of his cock through them made you bite your lip, “mm, what were you thinkin’ about? s’to early for this baby.” the sultry tone of your voice would’ve made his knees buckle. already aching to just grind into the palm of your hand as it ghosts over his sweats. “like i said, you look too cute today. wanna flick up that skirt…” Suguru trails off as you rub his erection through his sweatpants, his own hand sliding under your skirt and pulling aside your panties.

he takes in a breath when he feels your slick coat his fingers, “oh look at you. all wet just from my words.” you scoff, squeezing around the head of his cock before sneaking your hand under his sweats. “shut up. i bet you came in your pants before i even touched you.” a smirk grows on your face when you finally feel the wet patch in his underwear, his cock already twitching the second you wrap your hand around it.

“keep being a brat and i’ll give these people a show.” Suguru’s fingers smear your wetness around your folds, but before he could slip them in, you swat his hand away. making him retract his arm. “you won’t need to. m’pretty sure that worker is staring. so be good and i’ll get you off just how you want. and maybe i’ll let you fuck me in the car before you drop me off later.” you whisper, placing a kiss on his cheek.

thinking quickly before the worker looks over again, you sit your purse on his thigh to hide your ministrations. “maybe? i gotta stuff that sweet cunt baby. w-wanna see your pretty pussy leak with my cum..” he groans, his voice wavering as you pump his cock, your thumb swiping over the precum around his tip. “i know you will. wan’ you to fill me up to the brim.” you murmur, making his cock throb. he leans back in the seat, bringing a hand up to his mouth as he spurts in your hand.

“Fuck, hurry up baby. pack your shit, we’re going to the car.”

#jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto x chubby reader #geto x y/n #geto x black reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x you #suguru x chubby reader #sugurugeto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x y/n #suguru 🤭🤭🤭🤭

[southparktexts]

Enemies to lovers with the main four?

i love this concept so much anon !! thank you !!!

Enemies to lovers w/ main four

Kyle :

- i know damn well you guys became enemies because of grades.

- academic award fights.

- this literally all happened because you two wrote on the same topic but you had one mark more than kyle.

- gave you the biggest side eye

“I can’t believe that THEY out of all people got 100! i got 99 why couldn’t i just get a 100, it was the same topic!”

“…dude. y/n is kinda smart its not that surprising.”

- he complains about you whenever you ‘beat’ him with grades

- you dont even know he got beef with you tbh 😭

- you guys didnt even talk at all, you were just in the same class as him unironically.

- one day, you got paired up with him for a history presentation

- he literally rolled his eyes when he heard that and had a mood when you talked to him.

“so.. ill to information and research and you can summarise my points?”

“yeah. whatever. i don’t care.”

- eventually, after days of the two of you guys doing the project he realised you weren’t that bad of a person.

- i can see, after you guys did your presentation he would ask to be your partner more and you happily accepted

- one day, after having kyle over to do another assignment the two of you went to mcdonald’s together.

- that was probably the first time he talked to you, outside of school work.

- he definitely caught feels for you

- unironically invited you to game night with the main 4

“..dude i thought you hated her.”

“….shes not that bad.”

“I TOLD YOU THAT??”

- definitely got jealous when kenny tried flirting with you.

- after that he unironically got more touchy with you.

- holding hands when you guys hung out after studying maths together.

- one day he asked his dad for advice and he said just to ask you out.

- he did… on text.

- my guy wrote a whole essay on you.

Eric :

- you guys definitely became prank wars enemies. full stop.

- prank wars.

- this definitely started because eric thought it would be funny to put a whopee cushion on your seat

- you saw it before you sat down and he got so fucking pissed.

“WHO DOES THIS BITCH THINK THEY ARE? NOT EVEN SITTING DOWN ON IT. WHAT THE FUCK.”

“fatass it isn’t that personal.”

- from there you and him back to back prank each other.

- ..they got worse as they progressed.

- he put a lot of laxatives and arbys sauce into your lunch once

- in return you put a lot of melatonin into his milk and made him sleep during an exam.

- yall are both fucked up like that 😭

- definitely spends a lot of time thinking how he can prank you and you do the same.

- you’re the only thing on his mind at this point.

“i fucking hate how that BITCH is always one step ahead of me.”

“you gotta admit.. theyre kinda hot..”

“NO KENNY. NO.”

“cartman you talk about them a little too much, its like you like them or something.”

“WHAT?! NO. CMON GUYS.”

“..sure fatass.”

- after stan said that he started questioning his feelings towards you.

- he kinda realised you both are kinda similar in your own fucked up way.

- after that day he made a glitter bomb card with a note inside telling you to meet him at his house.

- you arrived and you guys actually worked out well..

- gradually eric started introducing kenny into the group.

- the three of you started planning pranks on the teacher.

- eventually eric started falling. hard.

- you were always so funny and unique with pranks and he loved that.

- eventually asked you out with a cupcake.

“will you go out with me?”

“hm? yeah sure. ..this cupcake doesn’t have arbys sauce and laxatives in it, does it..?”

Kenny :

- to be honest time !! i personally think you guys wouldn’t be enemies.

- more just mutual annoyance.

- i feel like hes not the type to personally hate someone.

- the only reason he would find you annoying is because you would take the girls when he was trying to flirt with them.

“hey doll.”

“you’re talking to me?”

“oh tammy !! exactly who i was looking for!”

- he gets so annoyed because each time he was trying to talk to them you’d interrupt and drag them away to talk to them.

- one day he was fed up with it but didn’t do anything about it.

“how come y/n knows literally every girl i try to flirt with?!”

“because dude, y/n is cool and popular. their going to know everyone dude.”

“yeah bro.”

“plus they hang around the girls as well”

- after that, you kinda stopped hanging around the girls since they were doing a whole protest about something that you didnt want to be involved with.

- kenny eventually just say you walking around the school, just being yourself.

- he oddly, like it. he liked seeing you act like yourself. not pretend like you did with the girls.

- eventually he invited you to game night with the boys.

- you guys played dnd and had fun!

- after that, kenny would invite you to game night more and you eventually unironically replaced butters.

- you and kenny slowly became close friends and he became more possessive over you.

- one day he had enough of these thoughts about you and just asked you out out of the blue.

“hey y/n! doll!”

“hm? oh hey ken.”

“wanna date?”

“uh sure?”

Stan :

- if im going to be honest.. he doesn’t get enemies, except for craig.

- he definitely gets angry but doesn’t hate you.

- he probably got jealous because of you though, that what ticked him off.

- this is probably right after stan and wendy broke up

- you were wendy’s friend but also being stans.

- he once saw you comforting wendy and he got jealous.

“that backstabbing bitch! y/n is with wendy right now.”

“..dude i thought you said you were over wendy.”

“i- i am but still!”

- complained about you to the boys, slowly he would have something against you.

- since you were also friends with him he would give you a moody response when he replied back.

“how are you holding up, stan?”

“fine. just fine. its not like you care.”

- became more cold and colder.

“god look at y/n over there. at the swings with wendy.”

“dude, why are you looking at y/n so much. do you like them or something.”

“what?? no?”

- he kept looking over at you and he slowly started noticed little details of you.

- how you bite your nails when your shy, how pretty you look when your studyin.. wait.. what..

- slowly started noticing more details about you and since you were friends with him he would hang out with you more.

- became more touchy while you hang out.

- he realised now you were just being nice to both sides. trying to be there for both.

- wrapping his arms around your waist while you two walked together.

- blushing as you talk to him.

- eventually he bottles up all his feels about you and breaks down but in a good way?

- going to your house at 3am, crying as you hold him in your arms on your bed.

“and- and my dad keeps putting all this pressure and me and i love you and its so fucking difficult.”

“i know stan, i know… its alright.. wait. you love me..?”

#kyle broflovski x reader #south park x reader #southpark #southparkheadcannons #southparkimagines #stan marsh x y/n #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #mainfour #southparktexts

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

every once in a while, i have an urge to sit down and write an entire essay about The Purge franchise, specifically through the frame of reactions from people who either have not watched the movies or watched them while pissing on the poor.

because oh my fucking god do those reactions send me into a violent tailspin of irrational anger.

"the purge doesn't make logistical sense"

okay so have you ever heard of fiction? the train in snowpiercer doesnt make logistical sense either. it doesnt have to because its a vehicle in which to tell a story.

"people wouldnt just commit violent crimes because its legal now."

no they wouldnt. do you know that the first movie takes place on the 6th purge? do you know that story about frogs and boiling water?

"no one would ever agree to this. politicians couldnt implement this."

yeah so the fourth movie - The First Purge - is actually a prequel that explains how and why it got implemented.

see as a result of a general economic crisis, a new political party called the NFFA (new founding fathers of america) came to power, and two years into their political term, they ran "an experiment" and that experiment was the purge. the first purge took place on staten island; residents were offered $5000 to participate which comprised staying on staten island and letting the government put a tracking chip in your arm. there was also the opportunity of making more money if they "participated further."

people didnt all agree with this. thats a whole ass thing in the movie and the protagonist literally leads protests against it. it is a controversial thing. the NFFA literally have a sociologist as the face of it, one who talks to news reporters and assures people she and the experiment are apolitical.

the experiment is also fucking rigged. the government really send in roves of neo-nazis to kill citizens as a way of showing how "successful" the experiment is. it was never an experiment.

"but why would people believe that the purge is a good policy?

have you ever heard of propaganda?

throughout the films, there are constant displays of the propaganda the NFFA use to keep the citizens believing in the purge.

the NFFA are constantly lying to the citizens about the actual truth about the country. they often talk about how the stock market is doing great as evidence of a stable economy. there are fake experts in white lab coats lying to you about the purge being a good idea.

these movies are not subtle. they tell you outright that the government is lying to the people.

jesus fucking christ, in the third movie, part of the plot is the fact that in response to corruption being revealed, people are turning against the purge and protesting. dante bishop is a goddamn anti-purge activist.

"crime rate year round wouldnt go down because of the purge, that doesnt make sense "

yeah no shit sherlock. thats literally a defining theme in the entireass franchise. the government is lying. they actually use the purge as population control because theyre fascists.

in the first movie, the NFFA claim the country is basically crime-free and that the unemployment rate is 1%. do you think james demonaco wrote that with the intention of you believing it to be true? have you considered that maybe you were meant to be like huh, thats suspicious?

the first movie is the least overtly political, but one of the defining themes is in regards to the performative nature of the purge and the way it is mythologised.

"all crime is legal. so what, can i commit tax fraud?"

the rules of the purge are made up of. the entire idea is performative. the NFFA are not beholden to these rules; if it benefits them (or if not doing so poses risk to them), they will arrest you for "crimes" you committed during the purge.

in the third movie, The Purge: Election Year, they change the rules because of the risk charlie roan poses to them. roan is a senator running for president on an explicitly anti-purge platform and there is a very good chance that she will win the election, so they revoke the immunity (its still illegal to murder them) granted to government officials during the purge because they plan to kill her.

the NFFA do not care what citizens do during the purge, as long as it is not threatening to them.

"how would they even know if you killed someone an hour after the purge ended?"

they wouldnt. they also wouldnt care.

see above.

"the purge is stupid. people arent inherently violent."

no. no theyre not. thats the fucking point of these films.

they are not subtle films. they come with a free portable toilet so you can watch them without pissing on the poor.

what did you think the plots of these movies were? if the movies were not directly engaging with the concept of the purge and what it actually means, what the fuck do you think the movies are about? do you think the movies are just 90 minutes of indiscriminate violence?

#kai rambles #long post #the purge #i uh #i got reminded of it again

[floppydiskettess]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for the valorant agents: Gekko, Neon, Yoru, Phoenix with sova and chamber or whoever you feel with an s/o that when they’re in danger is able to kill whatever or whoever’s endangering them wether it’s like 15+ people or so (like Millie with moxie from helluva boss)

hi anon! tysm for the request!!!! this was a blast to write ahhh!!! :D (also i love helluva boss omg)

but i hope i wrote this right!!!

Gekko

the two of you were on a mission at bind, it was simple. you go difuse the spike while he was assigned to watch your back.

he had to walk a few feet away to pick up wingman for five minutes, you would be fine right?

once he picked up wingman, he heard a loud bang behind him and a loud celebratory woop

"oh fuck."

he turned around and saw the familar wild colours from raze's showstopper.

"no no no! shit you good?" he called through the smoke

he hated the silence he recieved back. as the smoke cleared he saw your paint covered and burnt body.

"...cariño?...shit, wingman, go get the others. i got these guys."

he pulled out his customized spectre as he prepared to fight. he detained as many as he could before swiftly wiping them out one by one.

when the team arrived with wingman, sage quickly rushed to your side to aid you.

once he finished taking care of the enemies, he ran to your side

"i am so sorry...i thought i could go grab wingman but you got hurt...i am really sorry.."

Neon

a/n: this is small bc i wrote a whole ass essay for neon and it deleted....im so mad...im just trying to summarize it

"HOY! IM PISSED."

that was the last thing before you felt a sharp pain in your stomach as your vision went black.

you don't know what happened, but somehow yoru had gotten behind you. it was supposed to be a quick and simple mission. neon took A-site and you took B-site. unfortunately, right when neon approached B-site to check on you. she saw it.

red. the snow was covered in a beautiful shade of red. and it wasn't from your attacked. neon could feel electricity enter her fingertips as she lost control of her abilities.

you felt neon carrying you before falling uncomcious.

neon carried you to the jet and brought you to sage.

"im sorry...when i saw them like that i just...lost control of my abilities.."

"its ok, you did it to protect them. you saved them."

Phoenix

he was just returning from his "run it back" when he opened his eyes to see the enemy phoenix staring back at him, aiming his ghost at his own forehead.

he went to grab for his ghost but he found an empty holster.

"ah shit."

"you really thought i wouldn't just take your weapon? i'm not as foolish as you are."

phoenix braced for impact as he heard the gun fire, but the shot never came. he nervously opened his eyes to see you standing infront of him, a gunshot hole through your shoulder as you pushed the enemy phoenix away.

"dear?! what the-"

he watched as your limp body falls to the ground, feeling worry and rage overtake him.

"oh fam...your gonna regret that." he says to the opposite phoenix as the rest of his team approaches for backup.

when skye arrived at the site to treat you, she did not expect to see 5 charred bodies sprawled across the ground.

"mate...what happened?!"

"they ambushed us. (name) saved me cause i made a dumb mistake. go heal them, i am fine." he said with a dark tone to his voice

when skye healed you and you awoke, you were immediately greeted to the smell of burning. you turned your head towards phoenix as you saw him crouch beside you.

"thank god...why would you do that?! i'm sorry if i had checked my surroundings better you would have-" he rambles

you cut him off with a kiss as you feel his tired body begin to relax.

"no. i should have thought of a better plan. i am sorry i worried you."

for the next few days of your recovery, he will be by your side assisting you with anything you need. both of you content to try and ignore what happened that day.

Yoru

prior to meeting you, he was an extremely anger filled person. he still gets angry easy, but not as badly as before. you taught him how to control his emotions

but if he were to see you ganged up on in a mission, he would just lose control.

he was over at A-site at haven preparing to extract the radianite, before hearing your frantic voice shout through the comms for backup.

his heart dropped, he realized why his site was so empty along with the others. they had five-stacked onto one site. you had gone to C-site all alone. shit.

he immediately threw the spike towards Astra who had accompanied him to the A.

"stay here. i will go provide backup."

"alone? alright...stay safe."

he quickly teleported to your C-site to be met with a shocking sight. your battered and blood covered body lying down on the rough ground. burns and scratches littered your arms and legs. phoenix..

he looked up from your body to see the enemy phoenix, jett, chamber, astra, and skye staring at him with bloodthirsty gazes. they had teamed up on you because you were alone... how fucking sick could they be to attack a helpless sentienel.

he felt himself snap as he caught the enemy phoenix's cocky smirk. the cunt was proud of what he did.

when you regain conciousness, you are lying on the ground surrounded by the shredded corpses of the omega agents, a stained red yoru standing above them with his famous butterfly comb stained.

"...ryo?"

he turns around and immediately runs to your side.

"shit...thank god you are awake. don't move. help is coming ok?" he softly whispers while carressing your blood matted hair.

"are they...?"

"don't worry about them, you are safe now darling..."

when you make it back to base, you find out he took them all down on his own. when astra arrived at the site she had to practically tear yoru off of where he was mauling the corpses of the omega agents bodies.

he was ordered to talk to sage about his anger, but he never regretted what he did. he did it to save you and all that mattered was he had you back with him.

Cypher

he is used to killing to protect those he loves, this is nothing new to him.

he might be a cold killer, but you always knew he would never hurt you.

if someone was threatening you, he would keep them away using blackmail, but if it was more serious, he was prepared.

he sat waiting at the doors for the agents who had gone on your mission to come back. he was ready to greet you but he never thought he would have seen KA/YO holding you slung over his shoulder covered in blood.

he immediately freezes as he watches KA/YO rush to Sage's office. but he quickly recovers and follows quickly behind silently.

when sage caught sight of your body, she grimaced knowing it was bad. she ordered everyone out and allowed her space to work.

cypher was left with no answers as to what happened, as he sat anxiously outside Sage's office he hears KA/YO's robotic voice informing Viper of what happened.

"they went to go flank A alone, but their cypher must have seen her coming. when we arrived at A-site they were gone with the spike, they must have ambushed y/n and left her there for us to find...it was..bad. skye was able to help a little bit but...when we got there, they were missing their hand. im pretty sure they were awake when they did it."

"bastards..."

cypher could feel his blood BOILING. it was one thing to knock someone out, it was another to mutilate someone while they were awake. that wasn't fighting, that was mere torture.

he knew in this job people would get hurt. but he never thought they would ever go this far.

he was greatful you had lived, but he felt a burning feeling in his body.

as viper walked by, she stoped and turned to simply say.

"i know she was special to you Cypher, but don't do anything stupid. we don't need two people to revive."

he stood in place before walking to his room, he would make sure they couldn't hurt you. EVER again.

at the peak of night, he slipped out of his room and headed towards the armoury. he grabbed a ghost and a phantom before quietly walking towards the loading dock. he would make them regret ever hurting you.

.......

in the morning, you were awoken to a tired looking sage.

"welcome back my child. you sure gave us a scare there. how do you feel?" she smiled wistfully

as she filled you in, you couldn't help but wonder where your partner was. typically he was by your bedside until you woke up.

"Ling...where is Cy?" you softly asked

she grinned at the nickname "don't worry, he is in brimstones office. your little boyfriend pulled a stunt to avenge you."

"oh god, is he ok? what did he do?" you sigh

"oh don't worry, he is fine! the agents who ambushed you on the other hand.."

you and sage converse for a while, before you see cypher nervously walk into the room

"my darling! how are you feeling? do you need anything?" he asks worriedly

"i feel good amir. don't worry. sage is taking good care of me!" you chuckle

he sighs in relief, he may have gotten a lecture (and maybe some cleaning duty...) but it was all worth it to see your face again.

☤ Sage ☤

full battle sage mode

she would grab an odin off her copies body and just start spraying.

"you will not kill my allies!"

the second the enemies were down, she rushes to your side to heal you.

she will work all night if she has to, as long as it brings you back to her

"please wake up dearest...i can't live without you."

sorry idk what to write for sage HELP

a/n: aaa tysm for the support on my last posts!! im so glad that people are enjoying these! :) im currently working on some other requests so stay tuned ^^!!

also i apologize for the delay!! i have kinda had a lack of motivation lately so i struggled to finish it...

#adhd #valorant x reader #valorant x y/n #valorant x you #cypher x reader #fanfiction #valorant brainrot go brrrrrr #valorant fanfiction #valorant #cypher x you #sage x reader #gekko x reader #neon x reader #yoru x reader #phoenix x reader

[ladyfogg]

Sleepover

Sleepover

Fic Summary: After a late night of studying, you decide to sleep over at Eddie’s for the first time. Things take an interesting turn when you’re woken in the middle of the night by an aroused, but sleeping, Eddie. Eddie Munson Oneshots Masterpost. 

Fic Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader (Reader is 18)

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Language, Canon Divergent, Grinding, Masturbation (Female), Oral (Male Receiving), Unprotected Sex (no condom, reader mentions being on the pill), Creampie, Pretty Much Utter Filth

A/N: Into the trash I go. Don’t know where this came from but, oh well! Enjoy!

It’s crunch time for finals.

While you’re on track to graduate, Eddie is army crawling toward the finish line. He’s trying, trying harder than he’s ever tried before, and while you believe in him, he says he doesn’t want to take any chances. So when he asks you to help study for Ms. O’Donnell’s final, you happily agree. He’s managed to scrape by with a C in his other classes and this is the only thing standing in his way of finally getting his diploma.

Eddie deserves to graduate. He’s trying hard. He wrapped up the Hellfire campaign weeks ago and is even putting off band practice until school is done. You’ve never seen him this determined before.

Which is how you find yourself in his trailer Saturday night, sitting on his bed while pouring over textbooks and notebooks.

Eddie’s face is pinched in concentration, his eyes narrowed as he reads through your notes. He never takes any himself, always using yours because you’re a sucker and can’t help but share. It’s late. Way later than you anticipated but it’s for a good cause. Anything to help your friend finally walk across that stage. The fact that you’ll be graduating together makes your heart skip a beat.

“I’m doomed.”

You look up from the practice test he had taken earlier, which you’ve been silently grading for the last ten minutes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m never going to remember all this in time!” he says, arms gesturing to the notes and books scattered across the bed. “The final is first thing Monday morning.”

“And we still have all of tomorrow,” you reassure him. “Eddie, you got this!”

Groaning in frustration, he dramatically falls onto his back. “Maybe I should just face the fact that I’m never going to get out of that fucking school.”

This is a side of Eddie people rarely see. Yes, he’s loud and boisterous, and totally unashamed of who he is. Yet, there’s a slight self-conscious side that only you’ve been privy to over the last few years. It’s like he feels comfortable letting his guard down around you, something you cherish. You love being able to see a side of him that no one else does. It makes you feel special, and that your friendship is special.

“Uh-uh, nope. You’re not following that train of thought,” you scold, putting your notebook down. Leaning over him you give him the most reassuring smile you can. “You’re doing great. You got this.”

He looks up at you. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Of course I am, is it working?” You’re teasing him obviously. He’s actually doing fairly well by comparison to where he was when you started studying. He just can’t see it because he’s tired and frustrated.

Grinning, Eddie reaches up and boops your nose. “You always make me feel better, sweetheart. How did I do on the practice test?”

Grateful for the distraction, and needing something to focus on other than the racing of your heart, you draw back and lift the practice test so he can see the C- you wrote on top.

It makes him smile. “Fuck yes!”

“See, told you. You’re doing awesome. There are a couple of things you got wrong in the essay question, but that’s nothing we can’t clean up. Let’s study a bit more and call it a night.”

And so, you two get back to work. Eventually, after reviewing flashcards and taking another practice test, Eddie decides to raid the kitchen for a snack, leaving you to your grading. It’s been a long trying day. You don’t think you’ve ever studied this much in your entire high school career. While you manage to get a handful of good grades, you’re no genius and would much prefer playing D&D or reading fantasy books rather than reviewing schoolwork.

However, there was no way you could turn Eddie down when he begged you to help him. He looked so desperate and hopeful, how could you refuse? You’ve never refused Eddie in your life and you aren’t about to start now.  

While he’s taking his break, you start to go over his second practice test. Or is it his third? You’ve lost count. You also underestimate how tired you are because the next thing you know, your eyes drift closed and then, Eddie’s hand gently shakes you.

“I’m awake!” you say, head flying up off the book you were using as a pillow.

Eddie chuckles, peeling off the note card that’s stuck to your cheek. “It’s late,” he says. “I’m calling it. Study session over.”

You don’t even bother trying to stifle your yawn. “Alright, fair enough. What time is it?”

“After midnight.”

Shit. Definitely too late to ride your bike home. “Damn, I really wish I hadn’t fallen asleep.”

“I can drive you.”

Eddie looks as exhausted as you feel and you don’t like the thought of him getting behind the wheel. You’ve been pulling several late nights and you doubt he’s in any mood to drive. You’re watching as he helps gather your study materials when a simple solution comes to mind.

“Mind if I crash here?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looking at you over his shoulder. “You want to sleep over?”

“Is that a bad idea? I just figure since we’re going to meet up tomorrow to keep studying anyway, it doesn’t make sense for you to take me all the way home and pick me up again early in the morning. Besides, my parents are both working doubles at the plant tonight.”

You don’t like the thought of being all alone in your house, especially with all the weird shit that happens in Hawkins.

“I mean, my uncle will be home later and will need the pullout bed, so you and me will have to share mine if you’re cool with that.”

Your heart starts to pound faster at the idea. Throat suddenly very dry, you have to swallow before you can respond, “I’m okay with that.”

You see a flush come over him, “Great. Alright.” Looking around the room, he runs his hand through his hair. “Um, here, just let me…” He starts to clear the clutter of clothes from his bed and you take the time to put the studying materials away.

There’s a strange energy about Eddie all of a sudden. It’s hard to pinpoint, hard to describe until you realize that he’s never been one to go out of his way to clean for you. You’re over his place all the time and he knows you don’t care about the mess. But now that you’re sleeping over for the first time, he almost seems nervous.

The air is thick with tension.

You’re not sure if it’s coming from him or from you, but you try to act casual, try to seem like this is no big deal even when your heart is threatening to implode.

You’re acutely aware that sharing a bed with Eddie is a new situation for you and your friend. As close as you two are, you’ve never spent the night at the other’s houses and definitely haven’t shared a bed before. The thought gives you butterflies, making your hand slip on the zipper of your backpack. Eddie doesn’t notice. He’s still moving around his room, occasionally swearing under his breath and saying sorry when he moves something else out of the way.

A moment later the bed is cleared and Eddie turns to you. “Do you need sleep clothes or anything?”

“I usually sleep in a t-shirt. But I can keep my jeans on if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“Who wears jeans to bed?”

He has a point. “No pants it is,” you say. “I guess I can just wear this same shirt tomorrow.”

“Here.” Eddie reaches into one of his drawers and pulls out one of his many Hellfire shirts. “You can wear this.”

“Thanks.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence and you’re right about to excuse yourself to the bathroom to change when Eddie says, “I’ll just give you some privacy.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s out of the room and closing the door behind him.

You stand there for a minute, your heart racing faster than it ever has before. It’s just a sleepover at your friend’s house, you don’t know why you’re both such a nervous mess.

Feeling like you’re in a dream, you take off your jeans and leave them folded on the dresser. Next comes your shirt and you suddenly stare at your reflection in Eddie’s mirror. It’s surreal seeing yourself half-naked in his room. A certain level of excitement washes over you at the image and you find yourself wishing the scenario was different, that maybe you were sleeping over because Eddie wanted you to, not for convenience’s sake.

Shaking the thought from your head, you take your bra off, rolling it up with your shirt and sticking both with your jeans. When you put Eddie’s shirt on, it smells like him. It makes you smile, pausing to savor it. There’s something acutely intimate about wearing your guy friend’s shirt, especially when it’s a shirt you know he loves.  You slide into bed, making sure to pull the covers up around your waist.

A few moments pass before there’s a knock on the door. “You good in there?” comes Eddie’s voice.

“All set.”

The door opens slowly and Eddie stumbles in dramatically, his hand covering his eyes. “Are you sure you’re decent? It would be such a shame if I walked in on you naked!”

Laughing, you lay down and try to get comfortable. “Eddie, you can look. I’m not naked.”

His hand drops from his face. “Well, why the hell not?!”

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to be?” you tease.

“Well, yeah! That’s how these things go, right? You ask to stay over, I give you my shirt, and then you surprise me by getting completely naked.”

Still laughing, you roll your eyes. “Stop goofing around and come to bed.”

The phrase sounds so casual yet incredibly intimate at the same time. Eddie’s smile doesn’t fade, but he’s looking at you differently. It’s hard to pinpoint, how to tell exactly what’s going through his mind. It’s enough to make you fidgety and self-conscious.

“What?” you ask, hands twisting the edge of the blanket in your hands.

“Nothing,” Eddie says. “It’s just, you look good in my bed, sweetheart.”

The heat rises to your face and words escape you. How do you respond to something so sweet and obviously flirty? Not that Eddie hasn’t flirted with you in the past but that was just him being playful. Wasn’t it?

Before you can think of a response, he reaches for his belt.

There’s a moment, a split second where you can either lay there and watch Eddie undress, or roll onto your side and pretend like you’re not hyper-aware of the fact that he’s about to slide into bed next to you. Deciding to give him the courtesy of privacy, like he did for you, you turn on your side to face the wall. Eddie’s belt buckle never sounded louder. A moment later, you hear his jeans hitting the floor and then rustling as he steps out of them.

The room is plunged into darkness as Eddie gets the lights.

Your breathing is shallow, your head spinning when you realize you haven’t taken a proper breath in the last minute. You feel the rise of the bedsheet as Eddie draws it back, then the mattress dips under his weight. His bed isn’t very big, something you hadn’t considered when he brought up sharing. You try to move as far over as you can but you’re right against the wall and there isn’t very far for you to go.

“You can look now. I have no shame or modesty.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

His voice is so close and you have to swallow past the lump in your throat before you turn around to face him. He’s lying on his back, shirtless with the blanket draped over his hips. It’s dark but there’s enough ambient light coming through the window from outside for you to see him. It makes him look almost other-worldly and you know the image is going to be burned into your mind for years to come.

“It’s okay, I won’t bite,” he teases. “Unless you really want me to.”

“Haha, very funny,” you say, even though the mental image isn’t funny at all. It makes your heart race and your thighs clench.

“You alright? You seem nervous.”

“I’m fine,” you say a little too quickly. “It’s just…this is new. For us. Not that there is an us. I just meant, we haven’t shared a bed before and it’s new…for us.” Dear God, you’re babbling and repeating yourself. Can you be any more obvious?

“New doesn’t always have to be scary,” Eddie says, turning on his side and propping his head up with his hand. “Think of this as another phase of our friendship.”

You smile and roll onto your side to copy his pose. The two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and see his tattoos even through the dim light. Your fingers ache to trace them, to touch him in some way, but you keep your hands to yourself. He’s not wearing any of his jewelry. No necklace, no bracelets, not even his favorite rings. Somehow that makes him seem more naked. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him without them.

“And what phase would that be?” you ask.

He studies you through the dark. There is a beat of silence before he responds, “That all depends on you, sweetheart.”

Fuck you love it when he calls you that. You’ve only ever heard him call his guitar “sweetheart” up until several months ago when he casually called you that while hanging out one night. Your mind had gone blank and you had been so surprised, that you forgot what you were doing. He of course found it incredibly amusing and now calls you that whenever he can just to get a rise out of you.

Between wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, and laying right next to him, your senses were surrounded by everything Eddie Munson. It makes it hard to ignore the way his smile makes your stomach drop, or how a simple touch of his hand on yours sets a fire ablaze in your veins. It's making your head spin. You also have no idea how to respond to him. What does he mean it depends on you? What depends on you? What phase is he talking about? He can’t possibly be talking about becoming more than friends, could he? That seems almost too fantastical for you to believe. You may want him that way but he hasn’t shown any indication he feels the same way about you. Has he?

“I love our friendship,” you say, carefully choosing your words. “It’s more special to me than anything in the world.”

“But…?” Eddie draws the word out, waiting for more. Waiting for you to explain yourself. Possibly waiting for you to reject him. Holy shit, that’s it. Your mind is going a mile a minute and you’re trying hard to remain calm. This discussion is real, he’s legitimately asking about being something more. Isn’t he? You don’t think you’re jumping to conclusions, but it’s still hard to plunge into the deep end.

“No buts. I just want you to know how important you are to me,” you tell him. “And if me sleeping over means we get closer, then I’m really glad I asked to stay.”

He studies you through the dark. You can’t read his expression but you can see his eyes scanning your face, searching. “I’m glad you asked to stay too,” he eventually says. “By the way, you look damn good in my shirt.”

“And you look good without it.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You’re so caught up in the moment and he really does look great shirtless that you speak without thinking. Whelp, no taking it back now. Eddie laughs, reaching over to run his hand down your cheek. He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Yes, the morning. Good idea. It’s best to talk after you’ve had a long rest and time to process this shift happening between you.

You expect him to turn on his back or face away from you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays right where he is, facing you. There’s a moment of contemplation where you think about turning around, yet you don’t. You stay where you are as well, face-to-face with Eddie, cuddled close in the dark. Your body is exhausted from the long day and your mind is ready to shut down for the night.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. Between the dark room and Eddie’s slow, even breathing, you’re lulled off to dreamland in a matter of minutes.

Hours later, you’re brought back to consciousness just as quickly, but you’re not sure why.

It’s still the middle of the night. You can tell by the darkness and the quiet outside the trailer. You’ve moved in your sleep and are now facing the wall again, except this time, Eddie’s body is spooned up behind you. His arm is draped over your waist and you can feel the even rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Laying there, enjoying the comfort of him holding you, you’re about to close your eyes when you feel it, a sudden hardness digging into your lower back.

Your sleep-addled brain doesn’t catch on right away.

You shift to get comfortable, too tired to really consider what it could actually be. Until, you feel it again, this time accompanied by a quiet moan from Eddie.

Sleep is now a distant memory.

Is he…? Did he just…?

When it happens a third time, you know for sure it’s not your imagination. It’s pretty unmistakable what is happening. Unsure of what to do about it, you stay exactly where you are, listening and waiting. As far as you can tell, Eddie is sleeping. The persistent press of his hard cock happens once or twice more before it stops. However, that doesn’t mean it goes away. You can feel it, straining against his boxers.

Heat washes over you and you bite your lip because now your own body is waking. Waking and realizing exactly what situation you’re in.

Your cunt throbs from neglect.

Ignore it and go to sleep, you tell yourself. Just pretend like everything’s alright and go back to sleep.

Easier said than done. No sooner do you close your eyes than Eddie moves. Not fast and not purposeful. His arm is still very much limp across your waist, telling you he’s fast asleep. But his hips haven’t gotten the memo.

You feel his cock press harder, his body reacting to what it wants while he’s blissfully unaware.

It starts with small, slow rolls of his hips, creating just the barest hint of pressure. You can feel his breath on the nape of your neck, hot bursts of air every few seconds. Your cunt throbs again, more persistent this time and definitely interested in whatever is the hell is happening.

Nowhere in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d wake up this way, with Eddie rutting against you in his sleep.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore. Your best bet is to try and shift closer to the wall, to try to put distance between you. Yet, when you move, Eddie’s arm draws you back, flush against his chest with his erection tucked snuggly under your ass. He mumbles your name and then he’s still once more.

Fuck, he said your name.

Fuck does that mean he’s dreaming about you? Has he dreamt about you before? How the hell are you supposed to sleep with those thoughts running through your head?

You’re wet. Even without moving you know that you are, can feel the dampness seeping into your panties. Suddenly, the thin blanket is too much. You’re Hellfire shirt, no, Eddie’s Hellfire shirt is too constricting.

He's not thrusting anymore, but it’s worse now. Because now his cock is snug between your ass cheeks, and the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers isn’t leaving much to the imagination.

You need relief and you need it now.

Biting your lip, you listen closely to Eddie’s breathing, making sure it hasn’t changed. As far as you can tell, he’s definitely not awake. If you’re quiet and careful, you can hopefully give yourself some kind of reprieve. Otherwise, you’ll never get back to sleep.

You wait a few seconds, wait until you can pluck up the nerve to touch yourself, in your best friend’s bed, while he’s asleep next to you. Taking a deep breath, you slowly spread your legs. Your panties are so fucking wet you can feel them sticking to your aching core.

Carefully, you let your hand slide down the bed, inching closer and closer to where you need it. You reach the hem of your panties, pausing to think, really think if this is what you want to do right now. Of course, there’s no point because you know it’s going to happen. It needs to happen. You slip your hand into your panties. At the first press of your fingers, you almost moan out loud. Fuck you’re soaking wet and aching for the man lying beside you. You haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already hypersensitive.

Gathering your slick with your fingers, you rub two of them through your folds. Your body almost weeps with relief, even though you’ve barely gotten started. Your nipples pebble under your shirt. You have to fight back a moan as they brush lightly against the rough fabric.

You’re being careful, trying hard not to move anything other than your wrist. Eddie’s cock twitches, like it knows what you’re doing, like it’s begging to join the fun.

God, you wish it would. You wish he would.

You’re so wet that your two fingers slide into you effortlessly. A small gasp escapes your lips and you’re too wound up to notice. Still trying not to move too much, you keep your fingers buried deep, wiggling them just enough to get that spot that makes you see stars. Fuck this feels good. It’s not Eddie’s cock but damn is it still getting the job done.

Your hips slowly start to rock with your hand, needing more pressure, more friction. You have to literally bite your tongue when your fingers slide out of your soaking hole to trace wet circles around your clit.

It's not going to take you long. You’re too worked up to drag it out.

Falling into a steady rhythm, you touch yourself to thoughts of Eddie. It’s easier when you’re in his bed, wearing his shirt, laying with his body heat pressed along your back. His scent is all over you, like cigarettes, weed, and that cologne he wears. The one you got him for Christmas last year. But underneath, the scent of your arousal is unmistakable. To have both of those in the same place conjures all sorts of naughty images, fantasies you only indulge in the middle of the night. Usually alone.

Except for tonight. It’s all overwhelming and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer…

Eddie’s hand suddenly locks around your wrist.

It’s like someone dumps a bucket of ice water over your head. Frozen in place, you’re too scared to move or make a sound. Plush lips brush your ear and Eddie’s voice, low and raspy from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Shit! Has he been awake this whole time? Was he grinding on purpose? Or did you wake him up with your stupid fucking libido and attempted stealth masturbation?

He has to know you can feel him. It’s pretty fucking obvious. He also has to know what you’re doing. There’s really no other reason for your hand to be between your legs.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” is the only response that comes to mind.

“Sleeping.” His thrust this time is harder and purposeful. “At least I was until someone woke me up.”

“In all fairness, you woke me up first.”

You’re breathless and your cunt throbs angrily, begging for you to keep going. Squeezing your thighs together does nothing to relieve the pressure, especially with your hand still trapped.

“Did I?” he asks. “Maybe I should make it up to you.”

His hand slides down to join your hand and your gasp can no longer be contained. Oh my god, this is happening. This is really fucking happening.

“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet,” Eddie groans in your ear. His tongue darts out to trace the shell and a powerful shudder runs through your body. “Don’t stop on my account.”

His fingers press yours, forcing you to circle your clit again. Unable to hold back and so fucking turned on, you pick up where you left off.

You feel Eddie’s other arm slide under your body and the next thing you know, you’re yanked to his chest, trapped in a tight hold. His mouth is all over your neck, kissing, sucking, and nipping at the sensitive flesh. His free hand pushes your shirt up and fondles your tit, giving it an appreciative squeeze before moving to the next one.

His fingers mirror yours, following your lead. The sound of your fingers through your wetness is obscenely hot. When you slip a finger inside yourself again, one of Eddie’s joins you, and you selfishly wish he hadn’t taken his rings off. You can only imagine how the cool touch of metal would feel in this moment. Your hips thrust forward with excitement.

Eddie’s hips do the same.

He’s grinding his cock against your ass constantly now, panting and groaning in your ear as he does. “Such a dirty girl, fingering yourself in my bed,” he pants. “God I can’t wait to feel you come.”

The Hellfire shirt is sticking to your sweaty skin. Your cunt is dripping, your slick sliding down your thighs where you know it’s staining Eddie’s sheets.

“Fuck, this is so fucking hot. Shit, I’m gonna blow my load like this.” He’s humping himself against your ass, getting closer with each desperate thrust.

“Don’t,” you beg. “Don’t…not yet. I want…”

“Tell me,” he begs, lips claiming your throat with harsh kisses. “What do you want, babe? I’ll give you anything.”

“I want to suck your dick.”

Eddie’s hand stops in surprise but your orgasm can’t be delayed anymore. You come hard, seeing white and grinding yourself on his hand, covering him with your release. No fantasy can ever do this feeling justice. The fact that Eddie is the one who made you come only heightens your arousal and has you moaning his name. You keep moving until the last shocks of pleasure subside and you’re left shaking and panting.

Eddie’s hand slides out from between your legs and he rolls you into your back.

Your first kiss is sloppy.

His mouth finds yours in the dark but you’re too blissed out to focus or kiss him properly at first. He doesn’t seem to care. With a moan that has your cunt clenching, he kisses the life out of you, tongue pushing past your lips to taste.

Your hand falls to the bed but his is back between your legs a second later. He touches, he rubs, and he explores, dragging tremors out of your body and building your pleasure again. Is this for you or for him? Either way, you don’t care because he’s rubbing your clit in rough circles and it’s driving you absolutely insane. Two fingers slide into you without warning.

His fingers fill you in a way yours can’t, the delicious stretch an appetizer, a tease, for what’s to come.

“Eddie, let me suck you off.” You’re the one begging this time. You need to touch him, taste him. You need to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“Fuck, yes. Soon, baby, soon. Just want you to come for me one more time.”

He gets his wish a moment later. Your second orgasm is as powerful as the first, sucking the air from your lungs and leaving you twitching. He kisses you through this one, swallowing your moan as you drench his hand. It keeps going and going, the pleasure never truly fading even when his hand draws away.

You want to touch him now. You have to touch him now. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you push him into his back. You take a second to pull the t-shirt off and discard your ruined panties somewhere at the foot of the bed.

Eddie shoves his boxers down to join them.

He wraps his hand around his cock, using your slick as lube while he starts to jerk himself off. It’s a beautifully erotic sight ripped right from your filthiest fantasies.

His cock is fucking gorgeous. Long and thick, with a vein running along the bottom that you want to trace with your tongue. Your mouth waters at the sight of his swollen head, red and begging to be sucked. Ever the showman, he’s putting on a performance for you, showing you exactly what you do to him and what he wants from you. What he needs. You straddle him for a moment, taking his face in your hands and bringing him into a searing kiss before you start your descent down his body.

You leave a trail of kisses and love bites along the way.

You want to mark him, to make him yours. Everything you haven’t been able to say comes bubbling to the surface and fuels your actions. If you can’t tell him, you’re sure as hell going to show him. When you settle between his legs, he’s still holding himself. Precum is already seeping out of the tip and you knock his hand away, replacing it with your own.

Fuck the weight of him is fucking incredible. Just the thought of how he’s going to stretch you is enough for your cunt to clench in anticipation.

“Fuck, babe, please do something,” Eddie begs, running both hands through his hair. “Seeing you get off was the hottest fucking thing of my life…oh shit!”

He gasps as you wrap your lips around the leaking head of his cock, sucking the salty, headiness of him down with a decadent moan. His hands fly down to your head, fingers digging into your scalp as you start to work your mouth down.

He's so fucking hard against your tongue.

Mouth stretched wide, you try to relax your jaw, taking as much of him in as you can. He groans when he feels the slight resistance of your throat flutter around cock.

“Shit, shit, shit, sweetheart. Fuck your throat feels so fucking good. Yeah, swallow around me.”

You do your best before dragging your mouth up the length of his cock, coating him in your saliva. When you take him in again, you get him further this time, using your upper body to pin his hips to the bed. You do it over and over, working him in more and more until you manage to take him all. He grips your head and holds you there for a second, a litany of swears spilling out of his filthy mouth.

“Fuck! Oh my fucking god, let me fuck your mouth. Please let me fuck this pretty mouth of yours, babe.”

You pick up the pace, finally tracing that thick vein with your tongue and bobbing your head up and down on his lap. When you ease the pressure on his hips, he loses it.

He starts to thrust into your mouth, saying your name repeatedly while his hands continue to hold your head. “Fuck me this is heaven. God, can’t believe you can take it all. Gonna fuck this mouth all the time now.”

You’re fucking lost yourself. The visual of sucking Eddie off in his van or going down on him at his special picnic table in the woods is almost too much. Eddie has always been a drug to you, but experiencing him like this is making you an addict. Your thighs are soaked, your jaw is aching, but you can’t stop. Won’t stop. Don’t want to stop.

Apparently, Eddie has other plans.

When he suddenly pulls you off, you gasp for breath and whimper with disappointment. “Why’d you stop me?” you pant.

Eddie is looking at you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal. “I was too close,” he says, sitting up. “Didn’t want to finish like that.”

“How do you want to finish, Eddie?”

He groans and pushes you onto your back, maneuvering your legs so they’re bent at the knees. “Anywhere,” he says. “But not before I fuck you.”

“Fuck me, Eddie. I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me.”

He crawls up your body with a growl before attacking your lips in a bruising kiss. You can feel his cock between your legs, wet from your mouth and his precum, hard like velvet-covered steel. He reaches down to grab himself, teasingly sliding the underside of his cock through your wetness, coating himself with you.

You’re so slick, so ready, and eager and waiting, that when he finally pushes into you, tears form in your eyes. You nearly weep from joy, his cock giving you that delicious stretch you’ve been waiting for.

Eddie’s eyes are all you see. He’s staring into yours with rapt attention you’ve never known. It’s like he wants to memorize your face, wants to see every detail as his cock finally slides home.

Because he is home. He’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Damn it’s a fucking stretch. Even with all the prep and wetness, he still spreading you open. Your hands fly to his shoulders, your back arching as he slides in more and more…

His lap is snug against you for an entirely different reason now. And you’ve never felt more full or alive in your life.

Eddie kisses you while he fucks you. It’s slow at first, gentle like he’s trying to make sure not to hurt you or taking his time to savor. But he can’t hurt you. He never could.

And you’re too wound up, too happy to finally have him that you don’t want it slow.

“Fuck me hard, Eddie,” you moan. “Fuck me like I know you want to. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Shit!”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. Eddie fucks you into the mattress. It creaks and groans under the onslaught, your bodies rocking together desperately. Having him like this, over you and in you, is everything you ever hoped it would be and nothing you ever expected. He sits back in his heels, his hands on either side of your waist as he watches his cock slide in and out of you. Those fucking gorgeous brown eyes watch your tits bounce along with his thrusts.

“So good, so fucking good,” he groans. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight. Such a fucking amazing pussy. Fucking knew you’d feel good.”

Your hands cup your tits, fingers tweaking and pinching your nipples as your body comes alive. No thoughts remain except Eddie and his cock.

His hands roughly grab your ankles, bringing them to his shoulders. He wraps his arm around your legs to hold them close against his chest. With a fluid movement, he lifts himself onto his knees and suddenly the angle is deeper, his pace brutal, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

Skin slaps skin as Eddie fucks you into oblivion.

You’re aching and raw, and Eddie is filling you up in a way you never thought possible. You never want this to end, never want to do anything else but be wrecked by Eddie fucking Munson.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he moans nearly bending you in half. “I’m gonna cum in this tight pussy, baby.”

“Yes, Eddie! Fucking come inside me. Fill me up.”

“Fucking gonna pump you full.”

Your final orgasm comes out of nowhere and happens mere seconds before his. The hot slick wetness of his release fills you so much that your body can’t contain it. Even as he’s still fucking himself through his pleasure, you can feel him leaking out of you, dripping down your ass and onto the rumpled bedsheets. Another stain for him to deal with at some point.

Eddie leans forward and now you really are bent in half, if only for a second. Long enough for him to give you one more kiss, teeth clacking together in your excitement as his hips stutter for a moment, then finally stop.

All is quiet except for the sounds of you two trying to catch your breath.

Your ankles slip from his sweaty shoulders and Eddie pulls back. “Fuck, babe. That was the fucking best.” He’s still inside you, somehow still twitching even in his afterglow. He stares between your spread legs, watching his cock slide out and admiring the mess he’s made.

“All mine now, sweetheart,” he coos, a hand reaching out to stroke your thigh. His eyes meet yours, his lips pulled up into that grin you love so much.

“I was always yours, Eddie,” you pant.

Sitting up, you reach for him as he reaches for you, his hand cupping the back of your head and yanking you into another hungry kiss. He moans into your mouth, tongue continuing its exploration from before. Already you can feel your desire building again, although did it ever really go away? No, no it didn’t.

Your cunt is a sticky mess and when you and Eddie finally break away you say, “I should probably clean up.”

With a smirk, Eddie’s nose brushes yours. “It’s my mess. I’ll do it.” Before descending between your legs.

Needless to say, you don’t get much sleep that night. Nor do you study much the next day.

Eddie passes the test on Monday anyway, and when he proudly shows you the grade, you reward him with another sleepover.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn #eddiemunson #josephquinn #stranger things

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Could you do these prompts, with Lady Lesso and y/n. However you want to do it I don't mind

Heyyy @principal-weems09 !! I wrote all three for you, with a song on the side 🤭 Thanks for the request, babes! Hope you Enjoy 💋

Careful What You Wish For ~Lady Lesso xFem Professor!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#27. “If you hate me so much, why do you moan my name in the shower?!”

#40. “Right here? Really?…”

#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, little angst, little fluff, little smut, strap-fucking, kissing, confession of feelings, praise kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, etc.

Enjoy (;

You’d categorize your relationship between you and Lesso as, well, complicated…

You were a new teacher at the school, and you were the first Never and Ever teacher. You taught English and History, having a classroom in the library. Adjustments had been going well. You had good connections with your colleagues, especially Emma and Clarissa.

Of course, nothing was perfect. The chunk in your armor was Leonora Lesso. She confused the hell out of you. She was snarky and a bitch. But she was like that to everyone…?

With the new joining of the two schools, Lesso seemed to have extra hatred for you, specifically. And the age gap, different level of experience, and power dynamic did not help. Hell, she was twice your age (if not more), had been teaching for decades, and co-dean of the entire school.

Deep down you also knew that something else was going on with you in regards to the one and only dean of evil. Even with her snarky taunts and wicked comments, you still got butterflies whenever you spoke to the woman. Followed by aching in your heart as you remembered the woman practically hates you.

~~~

You entered the new, Never & Ever teachers lounge with a sigh. It was your off period for the day and you were hoping to get some grading done on a literature essay you’d assigned to your students. But as you went to go sit down at one of the tables, you noticed Emma and Clarissa whispering by the couches.

Clarissa caught your gaze and immediately tapped Emma, and they both turned around, quietly beconning you to come join them in a hushed tone. You put your things down and went over to them.

“What…?” You asked.

They both shushed you and Clarissa quickly patted the chair next to her and across from Emma for you to sit.

“What is it…??” You whispered.

The women exchanged glances before pulling in even closer to the circle.

“Not to gossip—” Clarissa began in a hushed tone, but was interrupted by Emma’s hand dramatically tapped Clarissa’s thigh and a stern ‘oh really…?!’ look.

Clarissa stuck her tongue out playfully before continuing, “Anyways… Last night I was getting ready for my nightly bathing ritual, and now with the Never/Ever shared bathrooms… I ran into Leo.”

Clarissa called Lesso ‘Leo’, and Emma called her ‘Leonora’ but you never dared call her anything rather than ‘Professor’ or ‘Lesso’…

“Well not really…” Clarissa continued in her hushed tone, “I didn’t see her… I… I heard her…”

“What…?” You whispered, “What do you mean…?”

Emma smirked at your slight ignorance and her eyes flickered looked down to hide her reaction.

“I heard her moaning, Y/N…” Clarissa whispered.

Your eyes widened.

“You heard her moaning…?”

It hasn’t clicked for you yet…

“Yes. But Y/N… I heard her moaning, Y/N…”

“Oh—OhhHhh…” you stuttered, your face turning red.

Suddenly you felt Emma’s hand embrace yours.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone…” she whispered, “for either of your sakes… It’s up to you what you do with that knowledge…”

You gulped.

~~~

You had decided to do nothing about that knowledge but overthink it. The weekend had come around at a decent pace, and you were spending your Friday evening still grading those essays…

Maybe giving each and every one of your students an essay assignment was not your best idea… you thought to yourself, cringing a bit on the inside with the amount of work your gave yourself.

You took a deep breath, going to pour yourself some more tea. As you sat back down, you heard a sudden rap! of Lesso’s signature cane on your door. It startled you slightly and your cheeks flushed red, the comment from earlier rushing back into your mind.

“I… Uhh—Come in…!” You chocked out.

The door swung open as the red head entered your classroom with a strut and a slam of the door.

“Oh…—! Professor…! What… What can I help you with…?” You stuttered, your face deepening in its shades of red by the second, your eyes looking anywhere but her gaze.

“What we’re you thinking?!” Lesso snarled.

You gulped and shivers ran down your spine.

“I… What…?” You stuttered, completely frozen.

“You let one of my Never students off the hook for the detentions I assigned?!!” She jeered.

Your breath hitched and your eyes widened as the woman stalked towards you. Your lip started to quiver slightly.

“You imbecile. stupid. idiotic girl…” Lesso sneered, “You do that again and you’ll deeply regret it…”

“She… She didn’t… deserve it…” you stuttered.

Lesso was now inches apart from you, and towering above you as you trembled in your chair.

“Pathetic.” Lesso snarled, “Don’t. Do. It. Again.”

Your breathing was completely uneven and you couldn’t help the tear that escaped your eye. At this, Lesso placed her hands on either side of the chair, getting in your face.

“Right here? Really? You gonna cry like a baby…??” She sneered.

Another tear escaped your eyes and then another.

“Stop, please stop…” you chocked out, pushing the red head away.

The red head huffed in annoyance and rolled her eyes. It made your blood boil.

“I hate you…” she muttered.

“Do you, now??” You choked out, annoyed now yourself.

“Yes.” She gritted out, “You’re incompetent, useless, and diffic—”

“If you hate me so much, why do you moan my name in the shower?!” You blurted out, interrupting the red head.

At your words, a myriad of emotions washed over Lesso’s face. Then before you could say another thing, her lips crashed into yours. You whimpered into the kiss, as the red head pulled you up from your chair and onto your desk. The red head was eager to ravage your lips but you pulled away slightly. At the sign of your hesitation, Lesso immediately began searching your face concerningly.

“I… I don’t understand…” you stuttered, your eyes looking away from Lesso’s gaze.

Lesso looked down in shame.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she spoke softly, “I didn’t mean all those things I said…”

You said nothing.

“I… I like you…” she continued, “And don’t know how to express it…”

You looked back up at her, to see her eyes full of vulnerable sadness and concern. She tried to pull you closer, but you jerked back slightly.

“Why didn’t you just say that…? Why were you so mean…?” You whispered, another year rolling down your cheeks.

“I guess I’m the cliche of ‘picking on a girl because I like her’…” Lesso chuckled lightly.

This made you giggle slightly. Lesso face lit up at your sounds.

“Maybe ask me out on a date, first…?” You chuckled.

~~~

It had been a few days since Lesso had asked you out, and you guys had gone to dinner. It had gone pretty well, all things considered. But only a few days later, as you sat in your chair, grading once more, the red head barged into your classroom for the second time. She startled you, coming up to, and so you stood up.

“What, what is it…?” You asked concerned.

The red heads pupils were blown out of proportion as she came up flush against you, meeting your gaze.

“I… I want you…” Lesso lustfully panted.

Your breath hitched at her words.

“But I want it to be on your terms… please…” Lesso pled.

You cupped the back of Lesso’s neck with your hand and gently pulled her lips forward and onto yours. This kiss was a lot more gentle than the last. Lesso was still the obvious dominant one, but she led this kiss with less vigor and more care.

“Is this okay…?” She murmered into your lips, as she guided her own hands to your hips.

You nodded breathlessly, throwing your arms around the red heads shoulders and jumping into her arms, your legs wrapping around her waist.

“More than okay…” you muttered, crashing your lips against hers once more.

Lesso moaned into your mouth at your eagerness, as she carried you out of your classroom.

Thank goodness it was late and no one was out in the corridors…

“Your place or mine…?” She murmured into the kiss.

“Yours is closer…” you muttered into her lips.

With that, Lesso moaned into your lips in agreement as she carried you to your private quarters.

~~~

Damn, this woman had resolve…

And you weren’t one to complain… She was always checking in with you, and you were to use the safe word if you were uncomfortable. But she hadn’t done anything to cause you to even consider stopping her…

~~~

“Fuck fuck fuck—!!” You cried out, as Lesso was pounding into you with her favorite strap.

“That’s it, Baby… Lemme hear your screams…” Lesso encouraged.

Lesso then hit a particular spongey spot inside you, causing you to keel over, spiraling the edge once again.

“Fuck… Mommy!” You screamed, reaching your upteenth climax of the night.

At this, Lesso froze for a minute.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?” You stuttered out.

“Don’t apologize, Baby…” Lesso purred, as she started thrusting into you again helping you ride out your orgasm.

You whimpered at this.

~~~

Pretty soon, Lesso brought you to yet another impending high.

“Leo M’mmm gonna cum…!!” You moaned out desperately.

“What’s my name, baby…?” Lesso wickedly purred in your ear.

“Leo—!!” You cried out.

Lesso tutted you, shaking her head.

“Try again…” she warily purred.

“Mommy please—!!!”

“That’s a good girl…” the red head purred.

~~~

Lady Leonora Lesso Masterlist

#lady lesso #lady lesso fanfic #lady lesso angst #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso content #lady lesso x y/n #lady lesso fluff #lady lesso smut #lady lesso x you #professor lesso #professor lesso smut #professor lesso x reader #professor lesso angst #tsfgae x reader #tsfgae fanfic #tsfgae #tsfgae movie #the school for good and evil smut #school for good and evil angst #school for good and evil fanfic #school for good and evil smut #school for good and evil x reader #the school for good and evil angst #school for good and evil #the school for good and evil #charlize theron character #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? #mommy k!nk

[gremlingottoosilly]

And they said I couldn't be a psychologist [COD x fem! Reader]

Tired of living with a family that genuinely thinks that being a psychologist is a wild ride to being poor and lonely? Got too many student loans to ever think that you will be able to repay them? Just join the army! Good company, great benefits and lots and lots of travel.

AO3

Characters featured in this chapter: Captain John Price This fanfic will contain incorrect use of psychology, my dead dreams of becoming a therapist instead of a journalist, basically a harem "The only girl on the team" plot and a reader who can't fight to save her life, literally. Each chapter will concentrate on one or few characters at the same time, I hope you will like it!

Google search: average school psychologist salary in my state

Allow Google to search for your location?

Fuck it, the government already know who you are, where you are exactly, and what you will do with this pretty wrecked mental state of mine, if I wouldn’t get an affirmative answer.

School Psychologists made a median salary of $62 000 in 202X.

Google search: average psychologist salary in my state without Master’s degree

National average salary for Bachelors in psychology is: $32,395 per year

Google search: master’s degree psychology how much

Average cost to earn a master’s degree in Clinical Psychology: $62,650

Average cost to earn your doctorate in psychology: $115,500

Google search: how many days can person not eat

Google search: annual striper’s salary

Google search: can I become a stripper if I’m not attractive

Google search: Army enlisting

💬💬💬

In highsight, perhaps, you should have stayed with the stripper option. Sure, it would be a lot more mentally draining, but at least you would make much more money out of the utter humiliation this work would promise to be every day. Military, on the other side of the spectrum, wasn’t really different from being a sex worker – you are still selling your body and mind, still have too much time in a dominantly male field, and will probably experience a lot more patriarchy sausage parties once you get there. The only thing that was different was the employer. 

And tax benefits. 

And health insurance. 

And a special program for those who would like to receive an education after they are done killing people, but don’t want to pay more than 100 000 dollars for a diploma that would look good on exactly one photo on the wall and then would be forgotten by pursuing the career of a sandwich artist. Ah, oh no. Negative thinking again. 

Jesus fucking – oh no, blasphemy, looking not good for your all-american goody-two-shoes portfolio – Christ, you have to get herself together – and at least somewhat presentable, even this would mean very little, considering the fact that for a woman in such masculine field, any signs of traditionally feminine things would be considered a bone thrown to a pack of wolves, but…no, no, no. You can’t have this new age psychology shit while she is on a mission…by being a new age psychologist, enlisted to the army just because you don't want to be a stripper, and too slow to become a good drug dealer. 

Cynthia Cockburn once wrote an essay about women's role in maintaining patriarchy by joining the army. How a lot of females are helping salvage the old system, that has to be put down for good for a long time already – and how this system continuously throws them out, without even acknowledging their input. 

You are wondering, if by applying your makeup right now, you are doing pretty much the same. Ah yes, a woman in a field dominated mostly by psychotic men! Let me just put on my brightest red lipstick, a short that will barely cover anything important and, of course, a pair of heels that would set anyone in the hearing range to a Vietnam flashback even if they never been in Vietnam to begin with. Oh no…is that a risky joke? PTSD is a serious matter, you know. You shouldn’t joke about flying helicopters and war flashbacks – not when the training for the military psychologist courses were so hard, that even you, with your pretty much good mental health, would have to check herself double time for any trauma that the instructor would leave with you. 

Two weeks of torture for an opportunity to apply the blandest eyeshadow known to mankind, the pinkiest lipstick that barely holds any pigments – it’s not like you have money to splurge on something better even given the permission – and a mascara as clear as the mountains fresh air. God – oh no, blasphemy again, you really don’t want to get a good grade with all of these God-fearing old-fashioned men, aren’t you? – you really hated just how bland you look. You feel like one of these girls in your college – with tightest buns, cream sweaters and perfectly high-pitched laugh that would make them desirable for even blander college boys. Ah, how much you hated this place. 

The military base, however, is far worse. 

First, there are just too many people here. Second, everyone looks at you like you are some sort of ghost. Judging by your loosely hanging white doctor’s coat, they aren’t too far from the truth, but it still was weird. And finally, third – you are still not sure that your papers have been sent correctly, and this is even the right place. 

Instructor – a terrible, horrible, horrendous woman – told you that there would be plenty of study material for you here. That with these people, writing your master’s or even doctorate would be a “ ‘king breeze, rookie, if they ain’t decide to eat ya first”. The males around you – and some women, of course, because the newest military recruitment made sure to include as many people as possible, providing everyone with the opportunity to kill people as much as they would want – doesn't sound quite as great material for your research. 

And you are not going back to the fucking college. 

She said that some Captain brought you here specifically – and that higher-ups made him do it, as he was dismissing any previous attempts of sending psychological help for any of his units. So this is going to be a classic conflict between a person and the government – and you, a useless specialist – are going to be stuck in the middle, as long as you don't get shot. Perfect, terrific, just a great fate for someone who got out of college after 4 years of destroying her own hopes and dreams in a giant cell of a US education system. 

You haven’t even met the man before, and now you are sitting here, in the middle of nowhere on this gigantic base. Fighting with the fabric of your clothing – a nice buttoned shirt, nothing that could be considered a provocation from your side, and trying to breath as the reality of the situation is slowly thinking it. 

Breathe in 

You stuck here for only god knows how long – until you either will be dismissed, or decide to go away by your own choice. With people you know nothing about, and who probably doesn’t even want you here. 

Breathe out 

This is a perfect opportunity for you to write your Thesis – just pick one of these perfectly twisted specimens, and make his mental state even worse. Or better, if you would feel nice enough for such hard work. 

Breathe in 

Perhaps, it’s not so bad – only a few years of service, and you will be back in your education. The children and their easily molded minds are waiting for you to be their perfect school psychologist. With average salary of “fuck you and your savings too”.

Breathe out 

Health insurance is nice. Would be even better with some dental insurance, but this is reserved only to soldiers. And you are…well, not a soldier, that is for sure. 

Breathe in 

– Greetings. I suggest you are the mental health expert? 

…and, all of your neatly putted breathing schedule is fucked. Stupid army people and their stupid questions with such nice and deep voices that would make you think of deeply fucked up stuff any other day and…

– Oh, um, yes. A psychologist. And you are..? 

– Captain Price. You have to work in my unit, but I figured out that just sending my men to get you would be too much on your first day. 

– Thank you, I…I would rather greet them myself, that is. I kinda have to. 

He frowned. Oh, great. A perfect example of stoic  fatherly type – the guy who is probably thinks of his soldiers as his kids, definitely don’t have a wife – alive one, at least – and slowly cooking himself alive in a pot full of misery, machism and “I don’t buy any of this mentally ill stuff”.

His mustaches are great though. And a hat. 

– Do you really? 

– Well, I don’t want to earn my paycheck for just sitting around. This would be nice though. 

– In that case, higher-ups would put us both in trouble for this. 

– Do you have anything for me to start working with? Like a personal file or…

– I’ll show you around. 

– Oh. Okay. 

He seems harmless enough. As much as one man wearing a full uniform with too many weapons and a tiny hat could be – but you still feel well protected while walking beside him. With this still hanging loose coat of yours – you’ll have to search for something more adjusted for your tiniest fucking height – you can feel everyone’s gazes on you. Jesus, you will have to work with this many people? Let’s just hope that no one here believes in magic powers of therapy, and you would be pretty much free for any of your working hours. 

— But you do have personal files of your soldiers, right? 

— I thought your people like more of a personal approach? 

— Well, it would be really great, but I need some documents to write off my work and…

— Then you are going to write those documents, kid. I don’t want to scare you, but a young miss like you really wouldn’t want to see real portfolios of my men. 

— Sir, with all honor, I am not a…

– We’re here. 

Oh. Saving you the humiliation of being able to recognise patronizing tones and understanding, that you are, in fact, a kid, a young miss, and generally a useless fucking person. Psychologists in a place, where most of the people probably believe, that getting drunk will save them from nightmares? What a joke. 

At least the office is nice. 

Tidy place, neatly furnished room with a table, a sofa – something right out of Freud’s fantasies. A small empty closet for all three of your psychology books. You can already picture whimsical and fun soldiers laying here, trying so bad not to laugh in your face as you were trying to uncover all of their mental trauma without being strangled to death. 

– Thank you, sir…captain? It’s nice. 

– Not much, but everything that we were able to put when they said that we need a mental expert here. 

– I will try my best not to disappoint you, I promise. 

– You can unpack here, someone will show you the bed later. Still don’t know whether to put you with soldiers or medics. 

– Um…I would really prefer a… A nice and roomy bedroom, preferably with no one to snore alongside you, and definitely not with soldiers who can get the wrong ideas about a nice and sweet lady psychologist sleeping right next to them on their base. Of course, you can’t say that. 

–...I need to gather as much material about them as possible, so it would be really neat to sleep closer to the soldiers. 

You are the architect of your own demise. You and your stupid Thesis that you are not even sure, whether you could write it right now or not.

– Oh. 

He scratched his chin in a manner that you have seen too many times. Do all older males with bears share the same mannerism? 

Then he smiled – a ghostly feature on his face, that almost made him look like he actually wanted you here, and not just putting up with higher-ups bullshit because every special task force needs its psychologist just so the soldiers won’t kill each other on one sunny day. 

– Okay. I’ll think about something, doc. 

– I am not…not a doctor, sir. Not yet, at least. 

– Well, it’s either a doc or a kid. What do ya prefer? 

– Doc would be better. Perhaps, I will earn my doctorate after the service. 

– That’s the spirit, kid. 

– But sir- 

Shit. He is gone already. 

You were never a fan of dad jokes. Or dad types. Or anyone, who is questioning what the fuck you are doing here, even though you spend 4 years fighting for this position in the college. Who cares, if you can’t shoot guns? Words are just as deadly! 

Well, judging by the size of the rifle on the Captain's body, maybe, your words would definitely be less threatening than his guns. But this doesn’t change the whole picture! 

Oh, well. You might as well try to get yourself as comfortable as possible – considering all of the possibilities, they might simply forget that you exist, and you would have to sleep on this tiny couch at least for today. What a great opportunity and definitely something that you spent four years waiting in awe of. Perfect, beautiful, something right from her dreams. 

“You can still get out of here, you know. Just go out of this door and we will never ever speak about joining the military ever again. Trust me, babe, I am your conscience.” 

Oh no. You hated talking with your conscience – mostly because it was an annoying prick, and also because, as studies were showing in many of the presentations you would make for your classes, this is a first sign of not just a person being self-aware, but also the step to being proclaimed a mad man. Even if you are, in fact, a very self-aware and mentally healthy person. Mostly. You liked to think of yourself as one, at least. 

“You don’t want to be here. And you shouldn’t – there is plenty of work outside.” 

Yeah, like a sex job. Or secretary. Or a waiter – what a beautiful line of work for someone already in too much debt to her government. And judging by the already dismissive faces of your parents, going home as a stay-at-home daughter is also not going to be an option. So, go far and beyond. 

You just need to find a few people who would be interested in psychotherapy – how hard is that?

#cod x you #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #john price #price x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #konig x reader #konig mw2

[ququb444hm]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

part 30 / sassy man apocalypse ☆

masterlist

warning(s): *REUPLOAD* bc i didnt like the first one n i am in love with angst/comfort, possible typos, profanity, kys joke

rain pitter-pattered against the glass windows of mr. ramirez’s classroom as soft jazz filled the empty conversations of college students writing out their history essays due at the end of the week. 

“aw man. what the hell.” rin groaned as he accidentally wrote down the wrong citation on his worksheet. “mori, do you have white-out? i keep fucking messing up and i’m so close to throwing the whole paper away.”

rummaging through his green pencil pouch, the sandy blond shook his head with a frown. “think i might’ve forgotten it in my dorm, sorry. nn* might have some though,” he stood up from his chair, walking over to yn’s table which was as quiet as ever.

(nn = nickname)

keiji had just left to go use the bathroom a few minutes ago, the seat in front of his being vacant also because that student barely came to class, today was no different. the girl who was assigned to sit in front of yn was fast asleep and the other kid who was supposed to be in front of kozume had moved to talk to their friend across the room. this left yn and kozume alone together. awkward. 

but yn didn’t seem to care... or to notice.

actually, she didn’t even seem mentally present.

mr. ramirez was still getting used to being in a physical classroom after persistently having asynchronous classes for almost two years because he simply “didn’t wanna get out of bed.”— he often supported his statement by falling asleep after his short lectures and with the current weather, it was easy to do so. 

so whenever yn had history class, it was basically a free period. which was very much needed after the conversation she had the previous day with shoyou. just what did he mean when he said kozume was scared of letting himself be happy? so focused on the question at hand that everything around her all mushed together into an unimportant blur. the pen in her dominant hand moved on autopilot, creating messy scribbles all over her notebook– seemingly illustrating her disordered mind.

“yn, do you have any white-out? cause oh! uh-” mori peeked over her shoulder, seeing the black ink pour out of the pen and dance like there was no tomorrow all over the lined paper. “uhm.. yn?”

noticing her unresponsive behavior, kozume placed a gentle hand over hers, squeezing it ever so slightly. “hey,” his soft touch mixed with the familiar comforting sound of his voice lulled yn’s tangled thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment. “are you okay? mori was trying to talk to you but you weren’t responding.”

“hm? oh.” collecting herself, yn turned to face her friend with a smile. “sorry, mori.”

the libero raised a brow at the interaction, his eyes lingering on the physical contact of their hands that still continued even with yn snapped out of her daze. “uh yeah, all good, nn. rin just needed some white-out 'cause i forgot mine. so i’ll be taking this-” he situated himself in between yn and kozume’s chairs, purposely hovering the top half of his body over their joined hands (with his ass poking out because of the weird position) to emphasize his nonverbal disapproval at the blond, before dramatically grabbing the white-out and dragging it to the edge of the desk, successfully (and awkwardly) separating their hands in the process. “pleasure doing business with you.” he chirped, giving kozume a dirty look before trudging back to his own table.

“sorry.” kozume mumbled, turning his attention back to his work. he internally groaned, scolding himself for what he did. ‘couldn’t you just tap her shoulder? but noooo you just can’t keep your hands off her. stupid.’

“it’s okay.” yn reassured. “actually, kozume i-” the sound of the chair next to her sliding against the vinyl flooring made her stop her sentence– keiji was back. “nevermind."

as time drew on, it was finally the end of morning classes, and yet it was still pouring outside. even heavier than when class started.

“be careful out there!” mr. ramirez warned, watching as students bustled out of his class and into the rain. “make sure to turn your essays in by friday, midnight! each minute after the deadline is my increasing disappointment in all of you!”

“you sure you’re okay going with him?” mori asked for the fifth time as yn packed her bag. kozume blankly stared at mori, wanting to get out of the class as soon as possible because he could feel keiji staring at them, eavesdropping on the conversation. he internally begged keiji wouldn’t try to confront him about walking with yn. 

but, in all honestly…he was a little happy that yn had asked. even if it was because of tetsu. he missed her. every single fiber in his body yearned to be with her. hate coursed his body ever since that night. but only for himself. he wouldn’t, couldn’t, never blame anyone else, even keiji, for his actions because he knew that in the end, he was the one that told yn all those cruel words. so when yn asked if he could accompany her to pick up tetsu, he was grateful that they were able to have some time alone. just the two of them.

yn sent her friend a comforting smile. “i’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. just let coach know we’re gonna be a little late m’kay?” mori sighed, knowing he couldn’t change her mind even if he physically dragged yn away from kozume– they’d just find their way back to each other one way or another.

“see you.” rin murmured, ruffling yn’s hair before walking out with mori.

“which building is tetsu in?” kozume asked, getting his umbrella ready.

yn fixed the straps of her bag, waving at mr. rameriz as she and kozume exited the class before answering, “pretty sure it's on the second floor of T building.”

“ohh.”

“is that okay?”

“yeah. that’s okay.”

the walk to T building was quiet and a bit tense. yn fidgeted with her hands, shoyou’s words still circulating through her mind. she wanted answers from kozume. she wanted him to tell her why things were the way they were between them. but she didn’t want to force it out of him. she wanted kozume to come to her first. her eyes focused on the path in front, letting the sound of the rain calm her down. 

kozume on the other hand, he couldn’t stop staring at her. he never could in the first place. yn was just so spellbinding, and the rain wasn’t helping in the slightest. he had so much to say, but he could never find the right words when it came to her. he stopped in his tracks, holding onto the umbrella tightly. his free hand pulled at the hem of yn’s jacket so they were facing each other. “yn, i’m sorry.” his voice was soft. it was almost hard to hear over the harsh rain. 

the sudden gesture caught yn off guard. “wha..?” kozume’s apology, though expected because of how much they both knew his words affected yn, came out of nowhere. “kozume-”

“i know i haven’t been honest with you, but i..” he pursed his lips, mind going blank as he stared into yn’s inquisitive eyes. “i don’t know what to do.” his voice sounding desperate. sounding lost.

“kozume,” every time she said his name, it felt like a stab to the heart. he missed how her voice was laced with so much love when she’d call him kozu or koz, but now his name seemed foreign as it rolled off her tongue. she placed a comforting hand on his, returning the gentle squeeze he gave her previously. “you’re my friend before anything that happens. i don’t know what’s happening with you, and it physically hurts to have you push me away, but i’ll always want to be someone you can talk to.” her thumb rubbed the back of his hand, soothing all his anxious assumptions of how the conversation would’ve turned out.

her touch was so soft and warm, a heavenly contrast to the heavy rainfall. kozume’s features relaxed, his head falling forward to rest on yn’s shoulder. her other hand reached to caress his head. “i don’t want to keep hurting you.” he mumbled.

“i don’t want to keep getting hurt either, kozume.”

“i know, i’m sorry yn. please be a little more patient with me. i didn’t mean anything i said that night, i was just overwhelmed and i regret taking it out on you.”

yn continued running her fingers through his blond hair. she slowly nodded, letting his words sink in. “i don’t forgive you for what you said, and how you constantly kept confusing me before that night, but i’m not mad at you, kozume.” her hold on his hand tightened in just the slightest. “it hurt when you made me feel you liked me back and kissed me only to call everything a mistake, and it hurt when you told me you weren’t being honest with me just now. you hurt me kozume, but still, i don’t want to lose you.”

the two stayed in their positions for a few more minutes. allowing themselves to bask in each other’s comfort. yn was the only good thing in kozume’s life, he knew that. and for a moment he let himself forget just how much he needed her. but he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. 

he knew he had to talk to keiji.

“what took you guys so long?!” tetsu fussed. after what was about 15 minutes since the bell, the two had finally made it to tetsurou’s class. “and why is my sister wet, kozu!? i thought you had an umbrella??” he quickly removed his own jacket, placing it on top of yn’s smaller figure. 

“it’s raining hard as fuck out there.” kozume groaned, also damp from the rain

“why do you guys still have practice anyway.” yn shivered, wrapping herself in the added fabric. “i know your game is coming up but what if some of you get sick?”

“no pain, no gain!” tetsu insisted, grabbing kozume’s umbrella from him and pushing the two out of the class. “now we gotta hurry..coach called me like three times telling me to get my ass to the gym!”

yn checked her phone to see if she had gotten a call also,

2 missed calls from milo’s dad 🫶🏼 1 missed call from SUNAVABITCH 🤣🤣 3 missed calls from alcoholic (coach) ⭐️

“well, fuck.”

part 29 secret little personal diary <- | masterlist | -> part 31 old man

note(s): me when i lie n say i'll finish this before thanksgiving break but i didn't >p< (IM SORRY.) anyways.. am i or am i not dragging their argument too long like.. let's wrap it up kenma! also i don't like the ending..but i wanted to post SOMETHING so i might change it later. next part is also written.. but AFTER that r a few text msgs :3

✩⡱ taglist !! + @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sherryuki-callmeyuki @anny-bah @ast4rg1rl @sukunasrealgf @dani-shitting-around @whokillednyx @vernon-dursley @limaswife @sugawara-levi @sixxze @ryoiii @literally-a-ferret @444sunarin @llearlert @lloyd4x @usermins @2baddies-1porsche @vernon-dursley @lyzisbitchingagain @h3xi2g0n3 @l0v3do11 lmk if u want to be added (msg or inbox)ヾ(･ω･`；)ﾉ

#🐈.thanksalotcupid #kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma x fem!reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume x fem!reader #kenma x reader #kozume x reader #smau #kenma smau #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! smau

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Wilbert's Worst

Right, so I really was open to having my mind changed on The Worst One but nobody’s argument has budged me.

I was going to write a complete, balanced essay on The Worst W. Awdry Book, but I’m a) mired in the research phase (hey if anyone knows someone with an encyclopedic knowledge of Tom and Jerry hit me up, for real) and b) right now I wanna talk about the characters and their Beloved Dynamics instead. 

So I'm just gonna get this out of the way so I can post the poll and move on to answering fun asks and watching Tom and Jerry in peace. Behold: a salty and unbalanced review.

Wilbert’s biggest failure of a children’s storybook? 

Henry the Green Engine 

Ohhh… because of the, uh, ra —?

Because of the racism, yes!

Oh. You do know that since 1972 they’ve republished it without the n-slur? 

Good for them. Two things: 

1. I know it used to be there, I’m never able to read it without knowing it was there in the first edition.

2. I consistently try, when ranking the books, to consider them in the context in which they came out. Because of this, I don’t like using “things that happened later” (like a new character never being properly used again or whatever) against the book. This helps me evaluate the author’s successes and failures against what they were trying to achieve when they wrote it vs what I would most want (blorbo content). It helps me not bring to bear the whole weight of fanon and fandom on a text that should be able to stand or fall on its own. Tl;dr I try to read the books like a guy who picked it up in 1951, or whatever. 

And yeah, if I’d bought this when it came out it would have had the slur. I’m going to judge it accordingly. 

Look, racism is bad, no argument, but does that mean the book as a whole must be condemned? 

Yeah, I think the slur and the “aaaand suddenly, blackface! heeheehee” bullshit fuck over the entire book, game over. Go directly to jail, do not collect $200. 

The Railway Series is not a work of high art or deep thorny complex literature. The books are meant for children — small children, at that. Children small enough to get bedtime stories read to them. The main goal of each book (especially this early on — you do have to manage secondary priorities like “pleasing the long-time fanbase” the longer you go, but right now we’re only 6 books into the series) is to create a happy imaginary world to enhance childhoods and family lives… to impart to other parents and kids a similar cosy happiness to that the author and his own kids enjoyed when he was workshopping/drafting the stories for them. When we say “children’s book” we really do mean little’uns — these average 1.25 full-color illustrations per page!

And these books sold in large numbers. This means it’s a certainty that somewhere in 1951 there was a Black family who owned the whole series, who went out to the shops, whose kid was like “ooh! Henry gets a book, neat…,” who like everyone else enjoyed the wild ride of Henry’s inspection and coal and wreck and rebuild… only to get verbally spat on one page from the end. 

Real mood-killer there. Epic fail, as the cool kids used to say in my youth. 

All right, fine, cool kids never said that. Anyway, statistically speaking there was certainly even more than one family that got that experience. Not to mention the non-Black families who even in 1951 were like “... wtf? i’d smack my kid if they ever said a word like that around me, geez. no.” Just a lot of people who had the light the book was kindling in them snuffed out all at once. 

You can actually be totally racist and your book not commit creative suicide on the penultimate page! Awdry flubbed his job of 'bestselling books-for-six-year-olds' here. Creative failure. Unforced error. Automatic zero. 

But times were different then, you have to consider it in the context of the time. 

1951 U.K. was not the nadir of multiracial equality or Black power, but jfc. I can assure you that over 99% of children’s books published that year in the Anglosphere managed to not use the n-slur. 

All right, all right. That was bad. But this feels off-topic. If you had never known about what used to be “Henry’s Sneeze,” would you still rank the entire book as dead last in the Wilbert Awdry corpus? 

Not dead last, but it is not a strong book. “Coal” and “The Flying Kipper” are super-interesting as material for Henry, but after that the book kind of falls off a cliff; the intrigue drops dramatically. The railway incidents chosen to make stories of are all solid choices, but it was not only “Sneeze” where Awdry’s handling of the material feels clumsy and weird. (And I’m not even talking here of the “heehee blackface — ain’t i a stinker?” gag in “Sneeze.”) 

But… “The Flying Kipper”? C’mon. It’s a superb story and no book that contains it can be the absolute worst in the series. 

“TFK” remains easily the best single TVS episode ever – but a lot of that is down to Britt and David’s artistry and judgment. 

Don’t get me wrong, a full-on railway wreck makes interesting material. But I don’t think the book does nearly as much with it as it could (and I’m trying sooooo hard here to forget about the amazing TVS adaptation, as I think it REALLY shows Awdry up. Even so, the storytelling here is surprisingly tepid and low-stakes). I get that Awdry probably wanted to lean into the comic angle and not make Henry’s condition afterwards seem too grave, in order to ensure the material wasn’t too dark for his young audience? (*mutters* again, a level of tender consideration for his readers’ youth that went right out the window when it came to small Black kids, evidently coz he couldn’t imagine that they read) Understandable, laudable — but if he outright refuses* to make the wreck too dramatic or scary then, well, then the wreck isn’t real scary or dramatic. And it can’t save the rest of the book from its flaws. 

*For all I know it could have been the publishers who insisted that the wreck be made preschooler-safe, that’s possible (although it’s also consistent with Awdry’s brand of humor and his overall low degree of emotionalism in his writing). Either way, though, the end result book is what it is and it will be judged accordingly. 

In addition to not being as exciting as many remember... @trainsupessandhuntresses asked me once if I thought some of Awdry's stories were "mean-spirited." I had to assent vigorously. And a surprisingly high proportion of those "mean" moments are in Henry the Green Engine? For some reason? It’s not just the racism. Awdry was not in the game to give Henry a deserved happy ending, he’d wanted to kill him off (the fuck?) and when his publishers prevented him (I don’t say this often, especially since I love how salty the Awdrys get about their publishers, but this in case good job, publishers!!) he wrote “TFK” with the primary motivation of giving Henry a new engine basis. Any soft or hearty emotions we get out of the deal are a side-effect — the only emotion that was fueling Awdry as he wrote this was spite, spite and a weird resentment towards his poor, long-suffering, invaluable illustrator. (I don’t blame Awdry for being frustrated that the engine illustrations were continually inaccurate or confusing, but I do think it’s weird to read all this great Henry material knowing that it was written with such poor grace.) 

So his ‘happy Henry’ stuff feels perfunctory; his Percy interlude is just brutal (why did you have to drag Percy into Henry’s book purely to give him a fuck-up, a scolding, and a messy dunce cap?); Gordon’s savaging of Henry for being too happy after recovering from a near-death experience is such an incredibly low point for Gordon that it’s hard for me to accept it as canon (there’s being proud, boastful, and self-absorbed, and then there’s being the straight-up raccoon dumpster fire Gordon is in that scene). Oh, and I think “call the police [local constabulary, doesn’t bear firearms]” woulda probably a less reckless way of dealing with the rock-throwing youths than the sneeze of hot locomotive ashes, which of course the Fat Controller doesn’t like, that shit coulda been real dangerous! Mind, there are small rays of kindness throughout that do get me (the interactions between Henry and his crew feeling to me the least perfunctory and most heartfelt), but this is overall such a mean-spirited book. God. It starts off with such a gentle story (almost a non-story, if you’re in it purely for the “railway incidents” game and not character drama), but in short order the vibes just sorta suck. At least in other RWS books, when the vibes are off, they’re usually off near the beginning and then improve by the end. This one gets worse as it goes on. Oof. Don’t like that. 

Also, the last page is sooooo lame. I suspect the publisher strong-armed Awdry into writing most of it so that at least the slur wasn’t on the last page of the book... and if Awdry had any idea of how much he’d just empowered Henry and all his fans in this book he shouldn’t have found it hard to find 50 extra words to sum things up. As it was, he’s just filling space and running out the clock, lol. Lame wrap-up. Boring. As usual when it comes to every little thing about this book, Britt and David closed this up better (mind, their closer – “He had taught Gordon and silly boys a lesson, with a whistle and a sneeze” – also sucked. But at least it was blessedly short.)

Didn’t you once list HtGE on a list of your favorite Wilbert Awdry books? 

I did list it as one of the books that “at one time or another” have been my favorite in the series. Unfortunately in the case of HtGE, that was back when I really couldn’t read a story that I knew from the TVS without mentally substituting the adaptation into my brain as I read… largely overriding the actual text. Plus, everything I knew from TVS as a kid kind of automatically got a halo effect. Plus, I was super into Henry’s arc. 

The first time I read HtGE after calming down and actually reading all the books as books... massive disappointment. There is such a gap there between what I'd thought the book said (all our incredible fanon work overanalyzing and headcanoning Henry and building this beautiful fantasy arc about disability!) vs. what it actually said (limp and careless writing, mean vibes, airbrushed n-slur, bad aftertaste). 

I do think there is some stuff about the development of Awdry’s storytelling technique here that is interesting (again, Tom and Jerry superfans reading this, please shoot me a message!) but it doesn’t counteract everything else. 

At least we’re over the racism stuff? 

Nah, I’m not over it, actually. 

#showed his whole ass #an rws book shouldn’t leave a nasty taste in your mouth #but! here we are #okay this rant was not as short as i thought it'd be #but again. there will be a proper analysis in the fullness of time. #henry the green engine (rws) #rws discussion #racism tw #slur mention tw

[bumblesimagines]

Midnight Beach

Part 12

Request: Yes or No

Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455

~~~

Sitting on top of one of the cargo boxes, he heard the squeal of the doors being pushed shut followed by them being locked. He stared at his dirty sneakers, trying to ignore that he'd just been locked inside a metal box with virtually no way of getting out. An engine started and the container moved, forcing him to grab onto the netting covering the cargo he sat atop. He swallowed and realized his throat was dry. He realized the Pogues hadn't said a single word in the past few minutes. He realized he was stuck sitting inside a metal box with no way of getting out. 

Just days ago he'd been sitting on his bed with his laptop heating his thighs as he wrote a lengthy essay for one of his classes. He'd been a normal average teenager on Figure Eight with a normal average life. He went to school, got home to do his homework, and occasionally tagged along to parties hosted on the beach or at a lavish house. But now he wasn't. Now he was sitting in a goddamn metal box among other teenagers who looked oddly calm for such a strange situation. He knew all about the theft, breaking and entering on government property, and the occasional running from cops they did. But to sneak onto a cargo ship to rescue not only their friend but also retrieve a historic artifact? Oh, god, he should've stayed home.

The truck carrying the container stopped, metal clanks coming from above and on the sides. Suddenly, the container rocked, sending Kiara stumbling right into Pope's arm with a soft grunt. (Y/N) nearly fell from his spot, saved by his tight grip on the netting. He adjusted his position and pressed himself back against the secured grate beside him, pressing one hand against the warm metal wall. John B clung onto some yellow straps hanging from the ceiling, groaning quietly when his weight shifted on his bad ankle. JJ tumbled backward, falling onto the ground and hissing softly. He snatched two straps for himself and wrapped them around his hands, using them to stand back up and keep himself balanced. 

Men shouted outside, calling out orders and instructions. The container shook one last time, almost flinging around the teenagers before it settled down, the smell of sea salt invading (Y/N)'s nose through the small vents near the top of the ceiling. They were on the ship. They were on the fucking ship. Literal stowaways. (Y/N) released a heavy sigh and leaned back against the box, watching John B creep up to the vent beside him and attempt to look out. Right as he tried to look, a hand slammed against the window and he ducked down, eyes squeezing shut. (Y/N) pressed himself against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible in case the worker tried looking inside. 

After a couple of minutes that felt like hours, John B peeked again and gave them a thumbs up. (Y/N) released a sigh of relief and his legs slumped. The wall behind him began growing hotter with the scorching sun glaring down at them so he scooted away from it, leaning forward to look out the vent. A light salty breeze went through, fanning his warming face and he relished in it. (Y/N) leaned closer to the vent, squinting through the small flaps. He only saw water for miles ahead. When had the boat started moving? How had they gotten into open ocean so quickly?

"Nice work, John B." JJ breathed, droplets of sweat beginning to race down his skin. Kiara wiped her hand over her forehead, muttering about the heat as she shed her coat. "You know these things lock from the outside, right? We're stuck in here like rats. In this death cage!"

"Okay, JJ, you're not helping." 

"You don't have a lot of room to talk right now, Pope. You said you had an idea, but what happened to thinking ahead?" 

"I find your lack of self-knowledge disturbing."

"Last I checked-"

"Oh my god, shut up!" Kiara shoved her leg between the two, scowling down at them. The two clamped their mouths shut immediately and lowered their heads, turning away from one another. "Pull it together, alright?"

"Kie's right. Arguing isn't going to get us out of here any faster." (Y/N) sighed and leaned away from the vent, rubbing some sweat off his eyebrow and turning to look down at the Pogues. "We... We should, uhm... check the workers. See if we can figure out how many there are and if they've got shifts. Maybe they'll have lunch somewhere away from here."

"Yeah... Yeah, that makes sense." John B limped to one of the vents, carefully climbing onto a crate and looking out in search of workers. JJ ripped the cap off his head followed by his jacket, carelessly tossing both things aside in a desperate desire to feel cooler. (Y/N) felt parched. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a sip of water, or a sip of anything for that matter. He sluggishly got off the crate and eyed the crates around them, hoping at least one carried some sort of refreshment. 

"Hey, Pope, how do you kill a snake?" JJ asked abruptly and met Pope's blank stare.

"You go for the head."

"Exactly. But the head, in this instance, is the bridge. To take the bridge, we need maximum firepower. And I happen to know that there's an armory on this ship in case of pirate attacks." 

"Pirate attacks..." Kiara repeated quietly and scoffed, rolling her eyes and standing up. "Killing everybody here is not a plan." She told JJ as she brushed past him, heading further into the container as JJ continued his ramble of gathering weapons and taking the ship by force. (Y/N) pinched his shirt between his fingers, shaking it lightly to get a bit of air on his chest and stomach. He took in a couple breaths of air and turned his head upon seeing Kiara moving things around out of the corner of his eye. His brows furrowed and then relaxed, noticing new sunlight pouring into the container from the spot in front of her.

"What'd you find, Kie?" (Y/N) asked quietly and walked toward her. A smile spread across his lips as he took in the large worn-down vent. The screws were partly loose and upon seeing them, JJ fished his pocket knife out and stepped toward it, beginning to twist the screws as Pope and John B joined them.

"The armory-"

"JJ, I don't know how else to put this but the armory is the shittiest plan I've ever heard. There are five of us, six if we count Sarah, versus a whole crew of grown men who definitely know their way around a couple weapons. As far as I'm aware, you and Pope are the only ones who've ever shot off a gun. We could hurt ourselves. We could hurt each other. And the minute Rafe gets his hands on a gun he's going to kill all of us. He might even go after Sarah." (Y/N) spoke, listening to the screws clatter to the floor. "Weapons add a whole other level of danger to this."

"He's right, J. Besides, I think you should stay here. I've got the cross to go after and John B and (Y/N) can go look for Sarah together." Pope shrugged lightly. Hurt flashed in JJ's blue eyes, his pale brows knitting together. (Y/N) reached out and gently grabbed his arm, rubbing his thumb over JJ's wrist and offering him a small smile.

"There's a chance we'll get caught when we go out there. If that happens, we need you and Kie to come get us. There can't be no rescue if we're all trapped." He spoke softly and JJ's eyes softened, though there was still a hint of hurt in them. He begrudgingly nodded and climbed off the small crate, grumbling under his breath and heading back to his previous spot. Kiara patted their backs and gave them a thumbs-up, watching them exit. John B went first, sticking out his upper body. His legs flew up and he grunted, wiggling out of the container. (Y/N) went next and poked his head out of the container, reaching down and planting his hands on the barrels below. He pulled the rest of his body out and hid behind the barrels, waiting for Pope to join them. 

Once the three of them were out of the container, Kiara put the grate back on. No turning back now. Not until they had some sort of information or plan. John B took the lead, taking them around the container and toward a staircase. They headed down and he pulled open an emergency door to a ladder leading down deeper into the ship. (Y/N) followed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Pope was still with them. They walked down the hall, feeling the cool breeze of the ac against their heated skins. (Y/N) kept close to John B, only stopping when Pope caught their attention.

"Hey, hey, I can't," Pope whispered to them, motioning toward a room (Y/N) and John B had breezed past without noticing. Looking inside, (Y/N) spotted a group of men drinking and chatting. 

"Yo, man, I gotta hit the head. Might be a while." One of the workers drawled with a beer in hand, looking over his shoulder as he walked toward them. (Y/N) turned and gave John B a quick push, shoving him around the corner and down some stairs as Pope raced back down the hall they'd come from.

(Y/N) followed him down the stairs and into what looked like a laundry room. John B suddenly ducked back, bumping into him and bringing a finger to his lips before mouthing the words 'man' and 'armory'. (Y/N) immediately shook his head but John B only nodded in return, turning back up the stairs and reaching into the room next to the staircase. John B took a small blowtorch and motioned for him to get closer as he lifted it toward the fire alarm. (Y/N) went up the stairs as quietly as possible, ducking behind a corner with John B and waiting for the man in the laundry room to walk up and enter the other room.

When he left, they headed back down the stairs with John B grabbing the emergency axe from the wall. (Y/N) eyes flickered up to the sign pointing to the armory and they followed it, approaching a tall storage unit. John B busted the locks with the axe and the doors flapped open, revealing the guns JJ had spoken about.

"John B-"

"Just in case, Kook Prince." Just as John B reached for a pistol, (Y/N) spotted someone rushing at them from the corner of his eye. He immediately pushed John B out of the way and dodged the swing from the man, moving past him and picking up a fire extinguisher from the floor. John B ducked under the man's arm and when the man turned, (Y/N) slammed the end of the extinguisher against the man's face, hearing a crack and releasing it as the man fell to the ground in pain. John B grabbed his arm and pulled him along down a random hallway until they stumbled out onto a small deck and caught their breaths. 

Lifting his head, (Y/N) heard two men speaking above them. "TJ got hurt. Said he saw two guys."

"Alright, let's get this place searched, then. Start on the port side."

"Shit." (Y/N) muttered. His head snapped in the direction of two familiar voices and he walked forward, looking over the railing. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sarah and... Ward Cameron. John B joined him, about to speak but the words caught in his throat at the sight of Ward. The father-daughter duo argued, shouting angrily at each other until Sarah stormed away and Ward followed.

"Was that..." John B couldn't finish his question, the name dying on his tongue.

"Yeah..." (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut. "Ward's alive."

In the distance, at the end of the dock, stood the large white yacht otherwise known as the Druthers. He saw a faint figure standing on the deck, arms waving wildly and a familiar voice calling out to Shoupe. Ward Cameron. (Y/N) cursed again and hurried down the dock, seeing Sarah and her friends amongst the officers standing on the dock pleading with Ward. 

Ward disappeared into the yacht and then, it felt as if all time stopped as the Druthers abruptly exploded into flames. Bits and pieces of the boat flew threw the air, littering the water and forcing the patrols on boats to halt. (Y/N)'s feet were heavy, keeping him planted on the dock. He brought a trembling hand to his gaped mouth, widened eyes searching the waters for any sign of the family patriarch. His eyes immediately flooded with ears and he staggered back, unable to find air as his chest constricted. Ward... Ward couldn't possibly be dead... No, (Y/N) had seen him standing on the deck just seconds prior. No, no, no-

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he flinched, spinning around to face Pope and an unfamiliar girl. Pope retracted his hand, a worried frown pulling at his lips. The girl behind him stared at him with narrowed eyes and (Y/N) didn't miss the knife tightly squeezed in her hand. Her gaze shifted onto John B and her features softened considerably, brows lifting in surprise. 

"Cheese on bread.." She spoke in an accent (Y/N) didn't recognize, but the familiarity in her voice as she stared at John B told him they had likely met in the Bahamas. John B's eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Cleo?" 

"So it is you. What are you doing here, man? This is my boat. I work here now after it got too hot in Nassau because of you and Sarah." 

"I-I'll explain later. Right now, we gotta run." Cleo pursed her lips but nodded, tucking away her knife and stepping aside so they could lead. 

The four of them snuck back to the container and Pope knocked against the grate, only having to wait a few seconds before Kiara pulled it away. Pope climbed inside, followed by John B and then (Y/N). (Y/N) raised his hand at Kiara to stop her from putting the grate back on and stepped aside so Cleo could enter. She slipped inside, cursing softly under her breath.

"Uh, who is this? John B-"

Taking Kiara by the shoulders, John B spoke quietly to her. "Relax, Kie. This is the girl from the Bahamas that saved Sarah and I, remember? The one I told you about?" Kiara wordlessly nodded, her tense shoulders easing up. Cleo settled down beside them, eyeing JJ as he put the grate back on. She remained guarded and even appeared a bit irritated with the situation. (Y/N) couldn't blame her. Her even knowing them could result in her losing her new job.

"So, uh, Cleo, these are my best friends: JJ, Kiara, and Pope. I've known them for years. They're like family to me." John B introduced each of the Pogues and Cleo nodded to each of them before she turned her attention to (Y/N) and quirked a brow. John B sighed quietly and motioned to him with a wave of his hand. "And this is Sarah's ex."

"Oh?"

"It's complicated." Understatement of the century. 

John B and Pope sat down on some of the crates and began relaying everything they saw while simultaneously catching Cleo up on the situation with Sarah. (Y/N) plopped down on a crate of his own, rubbing a hand over his face and absentmindedly listening to the group talk. His muddled mind refused to stop for a moment. Ward survived. He played everyone on the island for Rafe. To save Rafe from being arrested and sentenced. The man who took on a fatherly role when his own father couldn't... selfishly chose to cover for a murderer and cause his daughter a breakdown. (Y/N) took in a deep breath. 

"We're not letting Ward get away with everything again. Not happening. We're not watching this movie again, right, Pope?" JJ turned to Pope with a clenched jaw and curled fists, his chest heaving with anger. "You said we needed a win. And with her, we're going to the bridge, and we're gonna take it right now. You with me?"

"I'm with you, and I want to be one who takes the bridge."

"Alright. With Cleo's knife, we can go up to the bridge and hold it against the captain's neck, then we go on the intercom and make him tell the rest of the crew to meet up in the forward hull. Once they're in the same place, bam, we lock them in there, and we take back what's ours." JJ explained his plan and as much as (Y/N) didn't want to admit it, the plan had potential. Pope nodded and turned toward him, raising his brows.

"What are we thinkin', (Y/N)?"

"Well, we're gonna have to rely on whoever takes the bridge and the captain to do his part. Everyone will need to be alert. One distraction or one single fuck up, and we might be the ones locked up. Or worse. It's... It's a helluva plan, J. But I think if we all do our parts and we stick to our roles, we might just be able to do this." (Y/N) replied and reached over to Pope, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think you'll be able to pull it off. But you'll need to trust Cleo and Cleo needs to trust us."

"I-" Before Cleo could finish speaking, banging sounds came from the front of the container caught their attention. The familiar sound of the locks being undone reached their ears and they turned toward each other with wide eyes. Cleo scrambled up toward the grate and took it off, wiggling through the hole despite their quiet protesting. They fell silent. 

"Macias! This one's clear, sir. Nothing but tubing and plastic in there." Relief washed over (Y/N). A distant voice spoke to Cleo, too faint to make out. "Well, they weren't. Come on, we've got work to do. Move your bumper, man." The noise at the front stopped and they released a collective sigh of relief. Cleo returned to the grate and whistled for Pope. He climbed out of the container and off the two went, heading for the captain. 

"You think they'll really pull it off?" Kiara asked quietly, sitting down beside (Y/N) and resting her head on his shoulder. Her curls grazed his arm, the sweat making strands stick to his skin. (Y/N) leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Yeah," He answered. "I think so."

It took about fifteen minutes before they heard the captain's voice over the speaker, ordering passengers and crew members to head to the tween forward hull. With the plan officially in action, everyone climbed out of the container and split up. Kiara and JJ went off down below to lock the crew in the forward hull while (Y/N) and John B searched for Sarah and a lifeboat. (Y/N) and John B entered one of the hallways, checking each room for any sign of Sarah. They jiggled door knobs and called her Sarah, heading deeper into the ship. 

"Sarah?" John B called out as they headed down into a hot room full of machinery. He went to step further inside only for a hook to appear inches from him, followed by Rafe's face. John B's breathing turned shakey and he staggered backward. (Y/N)'s chest squeezed and he felt the hair on his body stand, his heartbeat beginning to pick up. His shoes felt heavy and the room temperature felt as if it spiked. (Y/N)'s clammy hands found John B's arms and he pushed the teen behind him. 

"Go find Sarah." (Y/N) quietly told the brunette. Rafe's deranged eyes narrowed, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the hook. His breathing grew labored, jaw clenching and teeth baring at him. 

"But-"

"Go!" (Y/N) barked at him and with a lingering glance, John B took off toward the staircase off the side of the room. Rafe's eyes locked onto him like a predator and he went to follow only for (Y/N) to step in his way. His hands shot out and grabbed onto the handle of the hook, pushing it back against Rafe and forcing him to stumble backward. A frustrated grunt escaped Rafe and he suddenly shoved (Y/N) back, making his grip loosen. He stumbled over his own feet and fell back onto the ground, groaning softly. He quickly rolled out of the way as Rafe brought the hook down near his head and used the railing beside him to get back up, pants escaping him in small bursts. 

"It wasn't supposed to go like this, (Y/N)! We were supposed to be a team!" Rafe shouted in a mix of anger and desperation, lifting the hook up. "But you just had to go and join those fuckin' Pogues." 

"I wanted the best for you, Rafe." (Y/N) breathed out, eyes pricking with tears. 

"Why'd you leave, then, huh? Why'd you leave me?" The blonde asked hoarsely, taking a step forward and scowling when (Y/N) took one back. (Y/N) held onto the side of the railing, gaze flickering between Rafe's face and the hook in his hands. He couldn't see his old 'friend' anymore, no, all he could see was an animal itching to lunge at him, ready to tear him apart. 

"I thought you cared about me." (Y/N) swallowed and continued to back up slowly. His body trembled lightly and every muscle in him wanted to recoil away from Rafe. The blonde sneered and brought the hook down on the railing, the clang of metal meeting metal making (Y/N) flinch. Rafe's chest continued to heave, droplets of spit slipping down his chin. 

"I did fucking care for you! I took care of you when nobody else did! I watched out for you, I took you under my wing! I fucking loved you and you stabbed me in the back! You chose Sarah over me over and over and over again and I'm sick of it!" Rafe shouted at him, repeatedly slamming the hook against the railing with each word. Rafe wiped his hand over his cheek, hair falling over his eyes and mouth parted to suck in deep breaths of air. "You chose her... You..."

"I know... I... I know, Rafe. I'm sorry." His voice came out strained. 

"You keep choosing her... and guess what? She'll always choose John B over you." (Y/N)'s legs stopped, keeping him rooted in his spot. (Y/N)'s eyes lowered onto the floor, unable to shake off the genuineness in Rafe's words. Rafe wanted to hurt him, to cut him with his words. But he said them with all the honesty in the world. And (Y/N) believed it. Sarah had done it before. She'd likely do it again. The tip of the hook hit the ground, dragging along as Rafe got closer to him. The pipe near them began to squeal obliviously, puffs of smoke slipping out from the crack in it. 

"Rafe-" 

"I'm still willing to forgive you, (Y/N)..." Rafe admitted quietly, his free hand raising up to cup (Y/N)'s cheek. The pipe began shaking wildly. "You can come with us. You can... be one of us. Those Pogues will never love you like I did.. like I do. They'll turn their backs on you the minute they don't need you anymore. You're not one of them. You're one of us." 

"You don't hurt the people you love, Rafe." (Y/N)'s lips quivered as he spoke, raising his hands to shove Rafe away and step back as the pipe burst, a mix of smoke and fire shooting out from it. He turned and bolted up the stairs, hearing Rafe's angered shouts and screams booming from behind him. He ran blindly through the halls until he burst through one of the doors, colliding with the railing outside. He panted and looked over the water, spotting the lifeboat. John B and Sarah had already gotten on, arms outstretched toward Cleo and Pope who swam toward them and climbed on.

Fuck. 

With nowhere else to go, (Y/N) climbed over the railing and jumped. The cold of the water shocked him, legs and arms kicking wildly until he got to the surface and gasped for air. He coughed up some water, slipping under again for a moment. He forced his body to work with him and resurfaced, his burning arms and legs trying to take him toward the lifeboat. Cleo caught sight of him and called out to him, leaning over the edge of the lifeboat and extending her arm out toward him. 

"Come on, man! I gotchu!" She shouted reassuringly and when he got close enough, she grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him closer. Pope reached over and grabbed his other arm, helping Cleo drag him onto the lifeboat. (Y/N) climbed inside and coughed, leaning against the edge and going limp against it. His head tilted back to look up at the bright sky above them as John B steered the lifeboat toward where JJ and Kiara were last seen. Sarah appeared in his vision, her hair appearing brown from being soaked. She delicately cupped his face, searching him for injuries.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better." He grunted, forcing himself to sit up. Sarah weakly smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead, a tear rolling down her cheek. (Y/N) wiped it away with the tip of his knuckle and chuckled softly, rubbing the side of her arm and turning his head to look out toward the ship. The lifeboat went around it as John B frantically called out for his missing friends until Cleo pointed them out. Kiara attempted to keep an unconscious JJ above water but in her weakened state, she kept slipping under. John B steered the lifeboat toward them and pulled up beside them, reaching in to pull JJ out of the water. Cleo and Sarah reached for Kiara and dragged her onto the lifeboat alongside JJ.

With everyone onboard, John B turned the lifeboat around and sped away only for the engine to sputter. (Y/N) looked toward the boat, seeing Rafe with a gun in hand pointed right at them. John B attempted to get the engine to work again as Kiara pleaded with the still unconscious JJ, begging him to wake up and attempting to stop the bleeding on his temple with her hand. (Y/N) kept his eyes trained on the eldest Cameron but Rafe never pulled the trigger, even when the engine came back to life and the boat continued its escape. JJ violently coughed up water and Kiara turned him on his side, rubbing his back until he was done. JJ slumped back and grinned up at them weakly. Pope turned toward the ship and watched the cross be heaved back onboard after his failed attempt to sink it.

"This shit ain't over."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #obx #obx x male reader #obx x y/n #obx x you #obx x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks x male reader #outer banks #sarah cameron x male reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x y/n #sarah cameron #john b routledge #kiara carrera #jj maybank #pope heyward #obx cleo #rafe cameron

[madameminor]

WHY I DON'T LIKE TECH x PHEE: An unintentional essay

Alright, yall, I've figured it out on my end. I think. I just need to get some of this out so that I can move past it. I'm not even gonna tag it under tech x phee, cause you know what, I don't want to harsh the mellow over in that space, I'm just voicing what I've discovered.

This is long.

Wanda Sykes: I LOOOOOVE Wanda Sykes, love her - love her so much that I can't see anyone else with her voice. A 60 year old lesbian comedian... and you want to make her a 20 something pirate captain flirting with a male cl- no. No. Capital N. O. Like, I thought she and Rhea Perlman were going to be a fun comedic, older duo playing off of each other. Or that they'd have some sort of sassy relationship. But instead she's a coy, fun adventurer who starts to join in TBB family? Nope. No. Didn't sell it for me. Gimme someone else, might have worked. Try Anika Noni Rose, or if you need that star factor, Halle Barry or Beyonce or, for fucks sake LIZZO (can you imagine her beautiful voice as Phee? OOOO I just shivered. Loved her as the Duchess, but her as Phee! Instantly WAAAAY more excited about that character.) Not Wanda Fucking Sykes (like I said, LOVE her. But no. Choices.)

The Build Up: You guys. We are all literally writers. Where were the beats? Where were the moments? You naturally want there to be a moment the audience goes 'ooooooh yeah ok I see it'. IT HAPPENED WITH HUNTER. The next day I remember quite a few of us going 'OMG YES!!! Yes, totally ship that, saw the chemistry with Phee and Hunter! Into iiiiit.' I resisted that one too, cause of the Wanda Sykes thing, but you know what? IT. WORKED. I went with it cause it worked. Was actually kind of excited. Was looking forward to the fics. Did not happen once with Tech, never saw anyone go 'oh look at that chemistry between pirate and genius'. NOPE BTW SUDDENLY THEY'RE ALL TEASING TECH AND TECH AND PHEE ARE IN A SCENE AND THIS IS ALL ABOUT THESE TWO TAH DAAAAH! No. Nope. Not how it works. Feels like my favorite is getting the shitty end of the romance arc stick. Fuck off, no. We have all written better.

Toxic Matchup: The way Phee (see dude, I almost wrote Wanda. Thats how much I can't not see her in this character) treats Tech. One of my mutuals on here, @shadestepping, put it perfectly - "It’s because instead of understanding who tech is as a person and being respectful of how his mind works, she tries to force him to mask because it’s what she wants/it makes communicating with him easier". The example that keeps popping into my head is when Phee sarcastically says "when two people are talking its called a conversation". My eyebrows shot UP, like, this is one of the FIRST THINGS YOU LEARN about Tech- his face is in his datapad. Treating him like an idiot (which is what it sounds like in Wanda voice) because he is doing what he is always doing is not ok (seriously, WTF, dude?). Another mutual, @dumfanting agreed and shared how that hit them: "As someone whose been forced to mask for her entire life, that is wrong and damaging and perpetuates the idea that we as austitics are only worthy of love if we continue to suppress ourselves." And it really doesn't have to be that way. I can rewrite every scene they are in together, still have her be sassy, have her show interest and respect for who he is, and still move him out of his comfort zone. I will do it, if I need to, just to prove it. If the writers are trying to give her some growth too, cool, then TAKE THE TIME TO DO THAT - instead we only hear how HE's being taken out of his comfort zone. How about HER? You want to be with him? Maybe you have to meet him half way, honey

Ultimately, I could have gotten behind this if it was done another way - but the way they went about it missed so many marks. And for my man, that's unacceptable to me. He deserves the best, not something thrown together.

I have spoken.

(Ok, I think that is out of my system.)

#kind of geek therapy #geek therapy for me #cause expressing thoughts and feelings appropriately are good for me #tbb tech #the bad batch

[v3nusxsky]

Hey ^^ could I request a Larissa x fem!reader where the reader is bratty all day so when the school day is over Larissa shows reader where and to whom reader belongs. Of course smut and maybe small aftercare? You can use any kinks you see fit for their dynamic (I’m kinky person so I don’t mind anything really xd)

thank you and hope you have wonderful day <3

My brat 18+

*Authors note~ my last request (was at the time I wrote this) and I'm all officially caught up for my darling Larissa Weems <3 two new requests but here's some long awaited smutty goodness*

Trigger warnings~ brat r / dom l mommy kink overstimulation oral toys punishment praise/degrading fucked dumb

Prompt~ see ask^^^

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Yours and Larissa relationship was common knowledge around the walls of Nevermore. At first it was staff members only but soon enough the students started to put two and two together and came up with four. Truthfully neither of you mind the school knowing, all they knew was that you and their headmistress had the kind of love written about in books and seen on movies. The type of love that you dream of wishing to someday have as your own. Then again that being said, they knew what you showed them what happened behind closed doors would always remain private, just for the two of you. And that's how you liked it.

This particular day you had only morning classes and truthfully you were bored. Larissa was busy as usual, not able to give you the attention you wanted, no needed. You weren't above playing dirty to get it either and that's how you formed a plan to gain it. You would break every rule the two of you had agreed on. Every. Single. One. Oh and when she found out you were in for the night of your life. Or so you hoped.

By the end of the day Larissa was hanging on by a thread, you had sent over pictures, voice notes, detailed texts that looked more like essays of what you desired her to do to you and even gone into your toy box to add to the pictures. Safe to say she was truly in need of playing with you, but clearly that's what you were aiming for so naturally she had to make you wait. To achieve that she stayed later than normal in her office after sending you a simple text, one she knew would absolutely drive you wild.

Arriving to your shared chambers she found you exactly where she'd told you to be. You sat on the edge of the bed, head tilted downwards in submission, stripped bare for her. She praised you as she stepped off also. She instructed you to lay flat on your back and she made quick work of restricting your arms and legs. A blind fold neatly placed over your eyes, ensuring you couldn't see a thing. "Now what was it you said earlier my love? Please remind me" she murmured into your ear before retreating to admire her handy work. When you failed to answer her question she brought her hand down against your thigh, delighting in the way it instantly reddened as you yelped out "fuck mommy I said I want you to treat me like a toy and use me till I can't say anything but your name. That I'd be so good for you mommy, touch me, do anything you please just god mommy" you finished reminding her of a few of your texts to be cut off with a moan as her fingers teased your soaked core.

"Such a pretty slut all laid out for mommy aren't you? My toy to use isn't that right?" She purred before moving to grab something. You were left anticipating what would happen, just which of your fantasies would she be acting on today? The answer was given quickly as you felt the vibrator being strapped to your aching cunt. Only when it was secured did Larissa move away from you with a final kiss and get settled in, perfect view of you. She wanted to watch every little reaction you would have as she edged you over and over. To watch you come so close to getting some release before she cruelly ripped it away from you.

With a simple click of the button she was able to do exactly that. You were edged 5 times for the amount of times you had sent pictures of yourself to her that day. By the time she switched it off and untied it from you, you were desperately begging her to give you something, anything just more. She couldn't help but laugh at how pathetic her toy was. "Oh darling, look at you, look at how needy you are for your mommy?" All you could do is whimper at her, "please."

"Oh my pretty whore, your needy cunt is leaking all over the sheets, is that all for me?" She purred coming up to free you from the blindfold. "All for you mommy, all yours" you whined still unable to move your limbs to get what you wanted from her. She moved to help your head tilt forward to see just what a mess you were making, the sight alone causing you to whine for her "mommy touch me"

"Oh no, I was going to give you what you needed, but my slut has lost her manners" she reprimanded you while moving to straddle your head. "Now you're going to be my good little whore and please your mommy and prove you deserve to cum" she commanded before lowering herself onto your mouth. Just like the eager slut you truly were you immediately started to use your mouth, exactly how you knew would drive her wild. You were instantly rewarded with pleasured whines and mewls. You couldn't help but moan at the taste of your lover, the vibrations around her aching pussy only aided her climb to the edge of climax.

Although you were pleasuring her she remained in complete control, ordering and controlling your every action. That fact drove you absolutely wild. "Such a good slut for mommy darling make me cum all over they dirty mouth of yours" was moaned out from the women above you, spurring you on despite the fact your tongue and jaw were tiring you were determined to please your lover. It wasn't long until you were rewarded by a loud high pitched moan and wetness flooding from her core. You made sure to lap up every last drop before she removed herself from your face, laughing at how you were trying to dart your tongue around your chin in an attempted to get the slick that coated your chin.

In your distracted state, Larissa had time to complete strap up and join you back on the bed, teasing your entrance and coating it with your own slick. "Such a dirty girl for mommy hmm, you're so wet you don't even need lube darling" she hummed out in a teasing manner knowing exactly how needy you were. She loved how you lay there still tied up completely at her mercy and ever so desperate for her. Your whines of need were certainly getting uncontrollable even though you were trying to hide them in an attempt to behave. "Beg" she purred into your ear, you immediately let out a string of desperate pleas, only to be cut off turning into moans of pleasure, by feeling her length pushing into you and stretching out your dripping cunt.

It was almost as if Larissa could feel how your walls milked the fake cock for all it was worth, her thrusts becoming frenzied with every whine and whimper you released. Your hips bucking uncontrollably to meet her ruthless thrusts begging for harder, faster and deeper. This time she gave you the permission you needed to let go and you did. Over and over again as she forced orgasm after orgasm from your tired body. "Mommy can't no more, please mommy" you whined pathetically knowing nothing would stop the women from achieving what she wanted. "No darling, you wanted this now you're going to shut up and take it like the filthy whore you are for me" she commanded while untying you and flipping you over before slamming back into you. She knew it wouldn't take much to throw you over the edge one more time, and with her pace and a quick bite to your shoulder, you came with a loud cry. She gently brought you down from your high loving just how blissed out you were. Half hooded eyes, shaking limbs, mouth gaping open as you tried to formulate a sentence. Here, like this, Larissa was sure she'd never had such a beautiful women in her bed. And neither did she want anyone other than you bellow her.

After disappearing to gather a cool wash cloth she immediately started to clean you up as you whined and whimpered in protest. "Hush darling, im just cleaning you up my love I promise, no more okay? You did such a good job for mommy, such a good girl for me." She reassured quickly hurrying to be able to join you in bed and hold you close. That was how you drifted off to sleep, blissfully fucked into a dumb state and snuggled up to your love. For you there wasn't any better way to end the night.

Word count ~ 1578

#fanfic #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #larissa x reader #anon answered #larissa weems smut #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #larissa x you