#@grey's writers get it together already

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 323

Adjective: Grey

Noun: Treeline

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Grey: of a color intermediate between black and white, as of ashes or lead; (of the weather) cloudy and dull; (of a person) having gray hair; (informal) relating to old people collectively; (of a person's face) pale, as through tiredness, age, or illness; without interest or character, or dull and nondescript; (of financial or trading activity) not accounted for in official statistics

Treeline: (on a mountain) the line or altitude above which no trees grow; (in high northern (or southern) latitudes) the line north (or south) of which no trees grow; (in high northern (or southern) latitudes) the line north (or south) of which no trees grow

#im now my usual amount of late #which still isnt great #but at least im getting more back on track #the reason why im late this time is i chose to go to bed last night cos i was so tired and knew i wouldnt get this posted if i tried #i was so tired mainly cos my girlfriend and i did more holiday shopping for friends and family #and i forgot to mention it before but weve been watching the newest season of the great british baking show #(weve both loved the show for a long time and its nice that we get to watch it together now) #oh i also got hozier tickets for my girlfriend and my parents and i #the concert is nearly a year away #but cos its the first concert my girlfriend and i will be going to (together or separately) we are super nervous and excited already #as for the writing prompt i love love love the imagery of it and how it makes me feel #like its cold and harsh but i think thats perfect for this being in late autumn/pre-winter #and i personally have two different ideas and im unsure of which to choose for my poem #specifically im thinking of the 'treeline' being 'grey' because of the weather or because of ash #i think i can make both devastating and deep #but i just dont know which i would like to write about more #but as always i know i will figure it out #thanks for reading #writing #writer #creative writing #writing prompt #writeblr #trying to be a writeblr at least

[captainfantasticalright]

In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:

It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.

Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.

Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).

But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.

Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **

And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).

From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.

It felt like a story with legs.

Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”

William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***

“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.

Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.

But the spirit of Just William was never far away.

The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.

Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)

“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”

(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).

*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.

** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.

***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.

#good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens fun facts #the colour of magic #the colour of pratchett #space voyager magazine

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

#anti ai #cod fanfiction #c.ai #character ai #c.ai bot #c.ai chats #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #writing #writing fanfiction #on writing #fuck ai #ai is theft #call of duty #cod #long post #I'm not putting any of this under a readmore #Youtube

[jakethesequel]

Welcome back to Tumblr's Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow Competition! Before we announce the final verdict, let's see how our "lovely" contestants are doing backstage!

VRISKA SERKET, hailing from welcoming Homestuck, is in the blue corner! She's a TROLL, a TELEPATH, and a THIEF. She has also attained GODHOOD, and I'm informed she did nothing wrong! Just off the heels of a dramatic loss in the recent Tumblrwoman Election, she deeply resents being trapped in this narrative device!

Her attire today is plain by Earth standards, but well put-together by ALTERNIAN ones. Nevertheless, she has been known to dress up on occasion, particularly in the colors of her ANCESTOR, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!

She is extraordinarily determined, and extremely manipulative. She will do anything she can to make herself into the hero her story needs, consequences be damned. Her actions have made her the source of eternal, vitriolic discourse. Some believe her entirely justified, some believe her a heartless villain, and others believe everything in between; every one steadfast and passionate about their specific stance! Love her or hate her: VRISKA!!!!!!!!

HARRIER DU BOIS, also known as HARRY, sometimes referring to himself as RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU or THE REINCARNATION OF KRAS MAZOV, is here representing scenic Disco Elysium! He is a DETECTIVE, an ALCOHOLIC, a recent AMNESIAC, and a WASTE of ENERGY. Having just recently recovered from an attempt at drinking himself to death, we thought inviting him to compete might raise his spirits some! Unfortunately he does not seem to be totally aware of his surroundings, as he has already tried to touch himself twice on air!

His garish and mismatched clothes are STAINED with seemingly every substance a human body can produce. His face is locked in an EXPRESSION that can only induce disgust and discomfort in those who view it.

The few memories he can draw from his fractured mind paint him as violent, selfish, cruel, and pitiful. He has been trying to get over a breakup for six years, and has only partially succeeded through near-total retrograde amnesia. Worst of all, he's still somehow a decently successful cop. He has no friends and few allies on Revachol, with perhaps the sole exception of the impossibly patient and composed Lt. Kim Katsuragi. Even among his fans, you'd be hard pressed to find one who'd defend him, and ever harder pressed to find one willing to stand in the same room as him. Nevertheless, from the safe distance of fiction, let's hear it for HARRY!

In but a few moments, the doors in front of them will open, and they will be able to approach the trophy onto which we have engraved the name of the winner. 5… 4… 3… 2…

AND THE WINNER IS: VRISKAAAAAAAA SERKET!

—

Vriska: WH8T THE FUCK.

Vriska: WHAT THE F8CK!!!!!!!!

Vriska: I WON THIS????????

Vriska: You pieces of shit can't supp8rt me to win ag8inst some lanky rain8bow-drinking 8itch, 8ut 8eat one-in-fuck8ng 16777216 odds to win poorest, wettest, saddest, littlest g8ddamn meow8east?

Logic [Easy:Success]: She won. That means we lost.

Conceptualization [Challenging:Failure]: Another loss in a long, long line of losses.

Pain Threshold: You've gotten used to the feeling by now. Losing something barely even hurts anymore.

Endurance: You still carry each one with you. Well, except…

Volition: Not now. Not yet.

Authority [Medium:Success]: This doesn't have to stay a loss. Stare the girl down. Challenge her. Don't let this be taken from you.

Wait, what *is* she doing, anyway?

Perception: The grey girl seems to be shouting at someone, but there's no one else here.

Vriska: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Inland Empire [Godly:Success]: The unseen audience, the string-pullers of fate. The sadistic writer terrorizing their creation. The storybook itself, the confines it sets. She has seen the death of the author, and needs more.

Empathy [Medium:Failure]: What's got her so upset?

Harry: Is there something wrong with you?

Vriska: I'm not taking that from a walking dumpster, asshole!

Suggestion: There's still time to fix this. Say something nice, quickly.

Harry: I just mean, you seem upset. I thought you'd be celebrating your win. It’s a big accomplishment, right?

Vriska: Are you kidding?

Drama: Are we, sire? Should we be, perhaps?

Vriska: You thought I’d 8e cele8r8ing this? A vote for the most pitia8le, pathetic person in paradox space? I’m not so desper8 to fill my pity quadrant that I need to resort to CROWDFUNDING! That’s like the lowest form of 8egging!

Electrochemistry: You are that desperate. Don’t think we're above begging for it, piggy.

Conceptualization [Easy:Success]: Oh. This was not a contest one wants to win. Maybe our loss was for the best.

Vriska: And I WON!!!!!!!! With this kind of competition, HOW did I get all the votes? All of them!

Reaction Speed [Trivial:Success]: "This kind of competition?" She’s talking about you! Say something!

Harry: It was a tight race. You fought with honor.

Vriska: IT SH8ULDN’T HAVE FUCKIN8 8EEN!

Vriska: Look at you! What the fuck kind of su8juggl8or suit are you wearing? Did someone 8leed on it?

Savoir Faire: No, no, this outfit is *cool*. You just have to give it a little *disco*, man.

Strike a pose.

Vriska: …

Vriska: You can’t seriously think any of that is appealing.

Vriska: Your clothes look like they were dragged out of 8 different gar8age 8ins.

Vriska: You couldn’t 8e more greasy and stained if you drowned in a pail of 8rooding slurry. From the st8 of your body, you actually might have!

Physical Instrument: I told you. You need to cultivate more mass.

Composure [Challenging:Failure]: Please, don’t start crying in front of a teenager.

You realize that you already have.

Vriska: Are you seriously crying right now? I might not 8e an expert on the human metamorphological process 8ut you definitely aren’t a pupa anymore. Shit, you look like you’re halfway dead already. Grow up, Pupa Pan!

Endurance: You need to stop this, now, before you break down further.

Harry: Fuck off, fucking spidery bitch! Leave me alone!

Vriska: Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen a grown man act this pathetic 8efore. How the hell did you not win this!?!?!?!? Do you even have a single thing going for you?

Esprit De Corps: You have a badge and a gun. You are a Detective Lieutenant-Yefreitor of the RCM. At least for now, you have that.

Harry: I’m a pretty good fucking cop.

Vriska: There are no good cops you dum8 8itch!

Authority: Make her stop.

Vriska: I’ve known you less than a minute and you already disgust me. I feel 8ad for the people that actually have to 8e near you.

Half Light: Do what you have to do and do it now.

Vriska: You deserved to win this. I don’t know how you can live like that. 8ack home you would have 8een culled sweeps ago.

Hand Eye Coordination [Legendary:Success]: You have never fired a shot so quickly or instinctually. You didn’t even know your gun was loaded. You pulled it out the way a cat scratches a hand, or a drunk pisses himself. You don’t remember when violence became second nature to you, but you didn’t forget how to do it either.

Harry: Oh, God.

Perception (Sight): Is that blood… blue?

Visual Calculus [Legendary:Success]: Light swirls and shimmers around the girl’s body, flashing a technicolor code you cannot decipher. Her body floats into the air, and her eyes flash open. All eight of them.

Inland Empire: No justice. No heroism. Just mindless violence.

Half Light: RUN.

Vriska: OW!

Vriska: Oh no you fucking don’t!!!!!!!!

(♏) Volition [Impossible:Failure]: You try to run, but your will is seemingly powerless to drive your body. I’m sorry.

Physical Instrument: Don’t look at me. I’m in great shape.

Interfacing: Connections seem fine. Don’t tell me we have to unplug him again…

♏Vriska♏: What the fuck.

Harry: Wh-wh-what are you doing to me?

Vriska: Shut up I’m trying to f8cus!

Inland Empire: Welcome, Thief of Light.

♏Vriska♏: What the hell is wrong with you?

Encyclopedia: Severe alcoholism. Retrograde amnesia. Partial facial paralysis. Dehydration. Heart palpi- (♏)

♏Vriska♏: 8e quiet, 8ook8rain! I’m trying to rifle through memories here and it’s a MESS!

Interfacing: We haven’t quite organized since our recent… restructuring. Try the thought cabinet.

Rhetoric: Don’t tell her that!

♏Vriska♏: Too late, sucker! Found it!

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: Jegus christ.

♏Vriska♏: In pu8lic? Why would you—

♏Vriska♏: Ugh!

♏Vriska♏: You said THAT?

♏Vriska♏: There was a8solutely no reason to do ANY of that, what the hell!

♏Vriska♏: You should honestly just kill yourself if you’re going to keep 8eing such a fuckup!

Reaction Speed: Yes!

Logic: Sound. You should kill yourself.

Empathy: It would make everyone feel better.

Endurance: Hasn’t this all gone on long enough?

Savoir Faire: It’s a hell of a statement.

Drama: The noble sacrifice, like Romeo, like Juliet!

Rhetoric: You should kill yourself NOW!

Authority: She has bested you. Listen to your better.

Half Light: Anything to get away from her.

Volition: …

♏Vriska♏: Can you creeps 8e normal for two damn seconds?

MORALE CRITICAL

The light fades from your eyes, and you fall to the floor.

Shivers: You are being called back where you belong....

—

Kim: Yes, Lieutenant. A fascinating dream. I’m sorry you did not win the competition.

Harry: What do you think it means, Kim? Do you think it could be some kind of message? Should I try to find that girl?

Kim: “That girl?”

Harry: Yeah! Vriska!

Kim: No, Lieutenant. I do not think you should go looking for Vriska Serket from Homestuck. Perhaps try looking for the killer in our murder case?

#disco elysium #homestuck #vriska serket #harry du bois #little meow meow

[pedroslittlelady]

Just You & Me, Darlin'

joel miller x f!reader (18+)

A/N: OMG Okay, I'm actually doing this! I'm posting something for the first time in over 4 years and I'm super nervous. Pedro Pascal just has me by the titties, and so do all of you wonderful writers and artists I've been so inspired by, so here is my little contribution 🫣💕

You can also read this on my ao3 if you prefer 😊

summary: When Tommy returns to the QZ without you, Joel is both terrified and furious but he’s determined to get you back safe no matter what.

tags/warnings: 18+ Explicit | Minors Do Not Interact Please! no use of y/n, boston qz, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts, slight exhibitionism, explicit smut, unprotected piv, no description of female reader, other than joel can pick you up and kinda implied age gap, squirting, emotional sex, unbeta'd, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin', baby girl). oh and you're both super in love so :) I think that's it.

word count: 5.9k

Joel’s heart was fluttering within his chest, nerves and excitement flooding him as he made his way up the steps of his apartment building. If all had gone well, you were due back from the week-long smuggling run outside of the QZ today, and he had been stuck on work duty for most of it. 

He hadn’t been able to go with you since someone had needed to stay back and protect their store of goods and ration cards from being stolen in their absence, they’d learned this the hard way. 

And in his mind he’d drawn the short straw.

Joel would much rather be out there with you than stuck here wondering if you were okay. Here, he was unable to do anything if something went wrong but he knew you, the little hell-raiser that you were could definitely handle yourself. 

The both of you had agreed when you first started sleeping together that it shouldn’t mess with the business, it gave you all a more comfortable life in the QZ than most got to have after all. 

Even after falling hard for one another following the sharing of your past within whispered cuddles post sex, you both still tried to keep the business professional and that meant trusting one another to watch your own and your partners’ backs. 

As he entered his apartment he was surprised to see Tommy sitting on his couch with his head in his hands. 

Joel’s stomach dropped at the sight, he already knew something was wrong. Heart breaking into a gallop against his sternum he quickly scanned the apartment, the open layout giving him a view of the whole room and you were nowhere in sight.

Joel's hands tightened into fists, his jaw tensing in anger and fear as he focused his intense gaze on his little brother who was now worrying his lip.

“Where is she,” Joel stated more than questioned in his deep southern timbre, his voice thick with emotion. Anger, fear, anguish and dread were all suddenly clogging up his throat. He swallowed to keep it contained, needing to keep his head on straight right now.

“I don’t know brother,” Tommy responded, guilt and slight fear painted his features as he looked up at his older brother.

“The hell do you mean you don’t know?” Joel growled as he prowled closer to his brother who quickly stood from his slumped position. “I trusted you to watch her back, to keep her safe for me!” Joel couldn’t control himself, the emotions from the thought of losing you, of never seeing you again were too much to handle and he grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and shook him.

“The deal went bad! Me and Tess got separated from her!” Tommy quickly explained, his hands gripping onto Joel's shaking wrists. “We tried to find her but… shit man, things are more fucked up out there than ever. We were hoping she’d made it back here.”

Joel pushed his brother away from him, afraid he would start swinging. Rage and fear consumed him, tightening his heaving chest as he ran his hands through his greying hair. He quickly stalked over to his weapons stash beneath the floorboards while vile images of you being scared and hurt, being taken by sex traffickers and all manner of other atrocities he’d seen and heard about over all his years surviving in this hell were flooding his mind.

If it was the last thing he did, he’d find you himself and bring you home. The thought of never finding you was unspeakable and he quickly pushed that horrible scenario out of his mind. But then another took its ugly place as he quickly grabbed his go bag; what if he found you dead or dying?

Well that would be the end, wouldn’t it?

He paused before looking at his little brother, standing before him paler than he’d seen him in a long time. Exhaustion was dragging Tommy down and Joel knew that he and Tess had done the best they could to find you; they loved you too.

“I’ll find her and bring her back,” Joel stated.

“I’ll come with-”

“No… thank you, but no. You're exhausted, you’ll just slow me down. If I don’t come back… then I…,” Joel trailed off as he watched anguish and fear become apparent on his little brother's face.

“Joel. Don’t. Please, brother,” Tommy begged, already knowing where Joel’s head was at.

“I can’t…” Joel felt his voice break as tears flooded his vision, blurring the image of his baby brother walking towards him. 

Next thing Joel knew, his brother's arms were around him and Joel let himself feel the rare embrace for just a moment. He and his brother had never been the most affectionate with each other even before the outbreak, so the fact his brother was hugging him so tightly told him Tommy knew exactly what you meant to him. How could he not, with how blatant the two of you were with your lovesick need for each other. You had become his whole world, a quick spiral into passionate need that seemed to drive the two of you from the very moment you became one when he took you on that dirty warehouse floor three years earlier.

His head dipped to Tommy’s shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and into his patchy beard, into that place where you always kissed him, as if that spot had been made just for you. A place to kiss and lick and nibble like you loved to do when you both were intimate, which was basically whenever you were in the same room as one another, everyone else be damned.

Would Joel ever feel that again? Had you both made all the memories together that you ever would? The last time he saw you flashed in his mind, replacing the ugly panicked images from before. You’d smiled up at him, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as you whispered your ‘see you laters’ - never ‘goodbyes’ - to each other, while Tess and Tommy looked on and rolled their eyes in annoyance at your overt pda.

The Joel of before had never been one for public displays of affection, to the point where one woman had broken things off with him because she’d said he was cold, that he didn’t care enough about her. He’d realised later on that she had probably been right. More conscious of how much affection he was giving in front of others than he should have been.

Now though, with you these last few years? Joel didn’t give a single fuck what people thought of how he held your hand, kissed you, sat you on his lap as he made deals with all kinds of people. He loved when you’d do the same, when you would kiss him in that spot that was surely made purely for your mouth while you rolled your hips against his hardening cock. The greedy eyes of lowlifes watching on in pure jealousy of how unashamed you were with showing everyone how wanton you could get for him. His precious little hell-raiser.

Shit, he’d fucked you outside before and hadn’t cared who’d heard. It had actually turned him on to know the residents had heard your desperate and lustful cries as you let him take you from behind in an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Anyone could’ve looked out and seen how Joel Miller got to have you be his, the most vicious beauty in all of Boston, submitting to him, belonging to him.

Joel quickly pulled away from Tommy before he got too emotional about how this day had turned into a fucking real life nightmare. 

As he strode towards his apartment door with his go bag on his back and his weapons tucked away on his person, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and face. He couldn’t look back at Tommy so he roughly pulled open the door and walked out with a quickly uttered, “see you brother.”

While descending to street level Joel struggled to get his emotions under control. It had been a long time since he had cried, since he had felt this scared and helpless, but he pushed through and began to formulate a plan on how he would get out of the QZ through a smuggler tunnel they had created two years ago. Then he would find you so he could bring you home, safe and sound.

There was no other option he would let himself consider from here on out, he needed to focus on his current mission.

Joel steeled himself as he walked out of the apartment building and turned right to head to the closest smuggling route out of the QZ. As he looked up to assess his surroundings he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of you standing in front of him.

His eyes widened in shock as you stood before him, a shaky vulnerable look on your pretty as sin face. Joel choked on your name in disbelief and before he knew it his hands were grasping your cheeks and his lips were crushing against yours in a desperate kiss.

He pulled away from your tight embrace to quickly gasp, “What the hell happened, baby?” Before he kissed you again and again and again. So relieved to feel you alive and whole in his arms once more.

But then worry clouded his mind; the look on your face as you saw him notice you replayed in his mind.

Joel once again pulled away from the desperate kisses you both were sharing to truly look into your wide teary eyes.

“Are… are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Let me see you,” Joel pleaded in a vulnerable whisper. He reluctantly pulled further away so he could assess you until you spoke for the first time since your reunion.

“I’m okay Joel, baby. I’m okay I promise!” You gasped as Joel began to pull up your sleeves and the hem of your shirt to see your slightly bruised and cut skin, clearly searching for a fatal wound like a bite that he thankfully would not find.

“Joel!” You shouted to get his attention, uncaring of the passers-by on the busy street taking notice of your desperate interaction.

Joel stopped his searching as you placed your hands on his cheeks and gave a soft smile when you saw the fear in his eyes recede into a warm relieved look of love that always made your chest flutter in unbelievable happiness, like butterflies bursting with life within you. You had never expected to get to this point with anyone, let alone the cold standoffish brute Joel Miller who had barely seemed to tolerate you the first few weeks after your initial meeting. 

To have this big, dangerous, sometimes scary but protective man look at you like you were his whole world was intoxicating. No wonder you could never keep your hands off of him. 

It had started after the first time you’d fucked, and that’s all it had been meant to be. A desperate fuck after a near death experience, both of you alone and thankful to be alive. You had exchanged no words but a heady look and before you’d known what was happening he was kissing into your mouth before pinning you onto the hard dirty floor and fucking you silly.

You knew he’d been sleeping with Tess at the time, although it wasn’t serious, and you had slipped into Tommy’s bed once or twice, but for years you had respected Joel’s leadership and strength, and of course enjoyed admiring how handsome he really was, but you both had never been particularly close, until then.

After, you had both agreed it wouldn’t happen again. You reluctantly agreed with him even though your legs had felt like jelly after the best orgasms you’d ever been given, having never before been fucked like Joel Miller liked to fuck. 

It happened again of course, the very next night when you took a chance and slipped into his room and cot. He hadn’t said a thing against it, only a cocky, “can’t get enough huh, hell-raiser?” 

After you sucked him to full hardness he’d let you ride him as fast or slow as you wanted while he just watched you. In the wake of your first orgasm Joel had snapped and took control once more by putting you on your back and practically folding you in half. He’d fucked you so hard you’d screamed your pleasure, so loud you had only realised afterward that Tommy and Tess must have been 100% aware of what was happening. But you’d come so hard you’d squirted all over Joel and made a complete mess, but you had seen in Joel’s eyes how much he’d absolutely loved it.

There was no talk of it never happening again after that, only an acknowledgement that business came first. A few months into your arrangement he began cuddling you after sex, asking you not to leave his bed in the sweetest whisper against the back of your head. You had agreed, threading your fingers through his and nodding with a simple, “yes Joel.”

And you hadn’t left, you both barely let the other out of your lovesick sight as you basically moved in with him. Tess and Tommy quickly moved out so they didn’t have to listen to the both of you ‘fucking every goddamn day.’

“I’m fine baby, I promise. Okay?” You kissed Joel softly bringing you back to the present, his arms tightening around you.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if… fuck, I thought you were-” Joel was crushing you against him, lips brushing yours as he spoke. A tremble was in his voice, one you’ve come to know more over the years as he opened up to you about things from his past.

“I’m right here darlin’, right where I’m supposed to be,” you gently spoke while running your hands through his salt and pepper curls. The action always calmed him down.

“I love you so goddamn much, hell-raiser.” Joel smiled against your lips before kissing you again. You chuckled, feeling tears gather in your eyes at the silly pet name he’d given you after your first chaotic introduction years ago which involved you wielding a couple molotov cocktails. The first of many pet names he graced you with, but definitely your favourite.

“I love you too, big guy.”

Your back gently hit the apartment building as Joel increased the pressure of your kisses, a desperation taking over you both as the feeling of being reunited after a close call washed over you once again.

Joel hiked your leg up and ground his hardened cock against your rapidly soaking pussy making you gasp at the sting of pain the suddenness of your arousal wrought as it travelled deep into your rapidly warming core.

“Joel,” you panted into his mouth as he licked at your tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a growl of need you felt emanating from his belly which was pressed tight against yours.

“Fuck, need inside your tight little cunt right now, darlin’,” Joel rumbled before he hastily began to undo your jeans, his lips carving a wet path across your cheek and down your tilting neck. He bit you quick and hard there, marking you; claiming you. You gasped, your arousal seeping from your desperately empty channel and trickling into your panties as you tilted your hips against his rock hard cock.

Joel slipped his thick fingers into your wet slit making you moan into his mouth.

“Get a room,” you heard someone mutter as they walked past. Joel growled before pulling away to glare fiercely at the man who suddenly blanched before quickly scurrying away at the sight of Joel hovering over you with a murderous look in his eyes. 

You giggled at the interaction, drawing his attention back to you, his eyes softening at your mischievous smirk.

“Take me to bed, big guy. Remind me who I belong to,” you murmured before biting your lower lip in anticipation as Joel's eyes turned blacker than the deepest cavern within the fathomless ocean.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and began to steer you back into the apartment building and up the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your ass before a slap landed there making you squeak excitedly. “Hurry the fuck up, darlin’,” Joel growled with a squeeze to your right cheek making you skip up the stairs quicker, panties practically drenched now.

The next second he was pushing open your apartment door, throwing off his bag and flipping you around to face him so he could kiss you hungrily once more. His thick tongue probed every part of your mouth, overwhelming you. You whimpered, your hands caressing through his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.

His grip on your thighs suddenly let you know what he was about to do and you braced your hands on his broad shoulders as he quickly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You both groaned and panted into one another's mouth at the feel of being pressed together.

You stilled when you heard the clearing of a throat. Joel groaned in annoyance as your lips separated wetly.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said before covering a slight laugh with a cough, Joel glowered. “But I’m really glad you're okay, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.” You smiled, so glad to see him safe and sound too. You told him this and questioned where Tess was and he informed you that she was just fine also.

“I just wanted to say-” Tommy started to speak.

“Enough said,” Joel growled. “Talk later. We're busy, brother.” Joel raised his brows clearly unabashed at being caught in this position by his baby brother.

“Jeez, alright lover boy-” Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I swear to God Tommy if you don’t get the fuck out of here now I’ll-”

“Okay okay! We’ll catch up later, Christ.” Tommy shook his head but you could see he wasn’t truly annoyed by the relieved look on his face.

As Tommy made his way to the door, a smirk was painted on his handsome face. Joel just pierced him with a frustrated and grumpy glare, you couldn’t help but snort softly while still being held up in his strong arms.

“See you later Tommy, and tell Tess thanks as well when you see her,” you quickly uttered before you forgot all about Tess and Tommy in just a few seconds.

“Will do, sweetheart. See you later. You too, Romeo.” Tommy laughed before darting out the door as fast as he could once he’d heard Joel’s growl of annoyance.

“C’mon baby,” you murmured in his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth bringing his attention back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Need to feel your big cock inside me, I feel so empty.” You pouted playfully even though you could still feel some of the adrenaline and fear from your near miss swarming inside you. 

You had very nearly not made it home to him and that thought made your heart jump and your hold on your lover tighten. You didn’t know if you could hold back on the avalanche of feeling you knew was headed your way.

“Poor baby,” Joel responded as he carried you to your bed and laid you down, his back not being able to hold you up for much longer, not if he was going to fuck you like you both needed after today. “Don’t you worry darlin’, I got you.”

Joel stood before you and began to remove the various weapons from his body, his dark intense gaze never leaving you as you began to writhe in need.

“Hurry Joel,” you whimpered, a desperation taking over now that you weren’t in his arms anymore. You felt tears gather in your eyes at just how lucky you were to be back here with him, safe and sound. You couldn’t hold back a hiccupping sob threatening to escape you.

Joel took notice and quickly hovered over you, one hand on your hip, the other palming your cheek and wiping a tear away. “You're okay now, baby. I got you.” He kissed your forehead and you could hear him inhale your scent as he did.

“Joel.” You murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. You needed to release these emotions, and Joel was the best at giving you just what you needed, what you both needed.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Joel murmured, his own gaze tear filled meeting yours before he pressed his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. You struggled to keep up with his kisses at first but then he was scraping his teeth down your jaw and sucking on your neck.

You bucked your hips up against him, his leg slipping between yours so you could grind on him. You whimpered, needing his bare skin to be slick against yours as you once again fitted together so perfectly. 

You needed the intimacy and the vulnerability of being beneath his broad form as he fucked you deep and hard, imprinting himself within you forever.

As if Joel had read your mind, he pulled back from nuzzling between your breasts, his big strong hands grasped the collar of your shirt and ripped it down the middle in one go.

You gasped at the action, at the grimace of need on his face as he began to manhandle you in a desperate need to get you naked beneath him. You unhooked your bra as he roughly pulled down your jeans and panties in one go, snarling in annoyance when your boots hampered his mission.

As soon as you were bare Joel was back on the bed and spreading your legs up and wide so he could see your perfectly soaked little cunt fluttering needily around nothing. Fuckin’ Heaven right there, he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes up your heaving belly and chest to see you biting your lip, small hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Please Joel, want you naked against me,” you practically begged, pupils blown out, eyes still glistening. He knew from your reaction something had scared you, probably a moment of terror in thinking you weren’t going to make it back to him in one piece or at all. The idea of that being a very real possibility that could have happened shook him to his core and he quickly tore off his clothes, not wanting to be away from your touch for longer than necessary.

He began to kiss every scrape and bruise as he made his way up your chest. Soon his eyes were looking deep into your soft gaze, your arms and legs wrapping around him and he knew he was finally home. He brushed his nose along yours, both his hands tunnelling into your pretty hair as he gazed down at you.

“You and me, darlin’, that’s all I need. Just you, I fuckin’ love you, you drive me goddamn insane with it, you know that?” His gaze was soft but intense, his words rumbled out of his pouty lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your own hands rubbing his back soothingly before sliding up his neck and into his hair. “But I feel the same.”

“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time. Just scares the hell outta me,” he nearly choked on his words before burying his face into the sexy slope of your neck, inhaling your heavenly scent. “Can’t lose you, baby.”

“I’m right here, not losing me, Joel,” you responded softly before kissing his scarred temple.

Joel slowly lowered his hips as he lifted his head to kiss you, his weeping cock covering your pussy, soaking him even further. Normally Joel would prepare you, stretch you with his thick fingers and make you come on his tongue but from the way you were mewling and moving against him he knew you both needed to become one right now. Besides, you had told him plenty of times how you liked the slight pain his cock created when it stretched your little hole open, the  girth of him too wide to fit comfortably at first.

You both angled your hips, well versed in the best way to slot together hands free. Your breath hitched when the crown of his twitching cock popped inside you.

“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me, baby girl.”

“Joel,” you whimpered against his lips before your hips pushed against him, sliding more of him within your aching heat.

He stared into your watery eyes as he gripped your hip with a bruising grasp and began to push into your tightness. He loved watching the way your mouth opened into a little ‘o’ shape and the space between your brows creased cutely in pain.

“Takin’ my cock so well, you precious little fuckin’ thing,” Joel growled as he bottomed out causing you to gasp. Your perfect cunt clenching around him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. 

Your breasts heaved against his chest as he let you adjust to the stretch of him for a moment. But he had little patience right now, so he soon pulled back making you whimper sweetly and he kissed into your mouth soothingly before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and held it tightly.

Pulling back from the kiss he quickly punched his hips down and forward, slamming deep inside you and causing your body to jolt from the force, his hands holding you steady. You weren’t going anywhere.

The squeak you let out was choked off when he did it again, and again. The soundtrack to your desperate love making became the wet slapping of skin on skin, the gasps of pleasure and the cries of pain as you melded together as one. Sweaty skin sliding against hardened nipples and harsh gasps were shared as he rhythmically pounded you into the mattress

“Joel, Joel, oh God Joel don’t stop!” you pleaded wide eyes staring up at his fervent expression as he gazed down at you.

“Fuck! That’s it baby, take my cock.” Joel grimaced in pleasure.

“Please, baby. Go faster!” You yelped as his hips smacked against you, his heavy balls soaked from your arousal.

He granted your plea, arching his back so he could suck on your tight nipples, hands grasping under and over your shoulders as he began to piston sharply within you, pulling you onto his thick cock.

“Yes yes yes, gonna come,” you suddenly gasped and Joel knew it was true by how your tight little pussy started fluttering around his shaft, sucking him deep.

“Come all over me, baby girl,” he whispered against your parted lips, sweat building between you as you both moved in sync, chasing that beautiful euphoria he always granted you.

You had been feeling it build within you so deeply, you knew you were about to crest that tremendous wave of pleasure you associated with Joel and how he always spoiled you rotten when you made love. It hit deep and sharp, making you arch your back and cry out against his lips as your pussy clutched so tightly to him, never wanting him to stop or leave your most vulnerable place that he always cherished.

It caught your breath as you ascended into ecstasy, all you could do was whimper against his plush lips as you came. His hips stuttered as you tightened, unable to keep up the pace at how tightly you were grasping at him. Nails scraping his back, legs spreading further, toes curling against his thick thighs.

“Good girl, baby,” he practically whimpered as you came around him. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, I love you,” Joel growled while he quickened his pace again, the ache in his lower back completely ignored. He sat up a bit, lifted your legs so they fell over the bend in his elbows before planting his hands on the bed.

You were practically folded in half, completely dazed from that intense orgasm as he manoeuvred you however he liked. You loved when he treated you like his precious little fuck doll. 

“Oh my God, baby,” you gasped, just watching as his hulking form rose above you, his dark desperate eyes dragging from your own eyes to your bouncing breasts as he started pumping his cock into you once more. The generous crown of his cock repeatedly hit that amorous spot deep inside you that only Joel could locate.

His stare was fixated on where you were joined together as he continued to thrust, slowing a little to admire it. “Sweet little pussy is creaming all over my dick, fuck!” Joel couldn’t take his eyes away from it, your abused hole flushed with arousal and soaked with your mingling desire. “God damn, baby girl. You can really take some cock, huh?”

All you could do was whimper at the vision he made above you, greedy lustful stare focused on your needy hole stretched around the wide circumference of his wet cock pumping inside you. The broad expanse of his tanned slick shoulders, the strength of his hands as they wrapped his calloused fingers around your hips, angling them perfectly. He sat up, his knees bracketing your ass and you quickly pressed your hands up behind you knowing exactly what was coming. Your heart jumped in your chest, you loved to watch him above you like this; using you, loving you so deeply and harshly.

“Gonna cum so deep inside your cunt, baby girl. Never gonna be rid of me,” Joel growled before rolling his hips into you, knowingly hitting that special place inside you that usually had you squirting all over him. 

He never forgot that moment you’d shared with one another. Only your second time together and he had given it to you so good it was probably one of his proudest moments, his ego getting a huge boost that had been well needed at the time. 

You had been so shocked and loud, you’d practically screamed at the sensation, shivering so vulnerably beneath him afterward it had stuck deep inside his chest afterward. It had pushed him to coo to you softly at your little whimpers, telling you that you were okay, that you had been so sexy and beautiful for him.

His hips were rolling and thrusting into you making you moan and stare up at him in awe. This man was all fucking yours.

“Mine, Joel. You’re mine.”

“Yeah, baby. All yours, this cock is all yours. And who does this pussy belong to, hmm?” he questioned with a smirk as he stared down into your wide eyes as his hips picked up the pace, you continuing to reciprocate his movements like a well choreographed dance.

“Yours, my pussy’s all yours. No one else's, baby.”

“Good girl,” Joel praised before leaning over  you, his pretty lips pressing into yours, widening your mouth and swiping his tongue against yours as your pussy flooded his cock and balls creating a slapping sound that made you whimper and blush.

“Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Ain’t ya, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you too, now fill me up, baby. Please!” You gasped against him, your foreheads now pressed against one another, mouths sharing harsh breaths. 

You braced against the headboard with one hand while moving the other to his curly hair desperately seeking purchase as your arousal grew once more. Core warming and tightening in an impending orgasm and when he shifted your position so he could press against your clit and urethra with his fingers your stomach jumped, knowing exactly what he wanted from you.

“Oh Joel,” you whined.

“Yeah baby, drench me please,” Joel encouraged and you began to flutter around the precise pumping of his twitching cock within your sensitive walls.

It hit you suddenly, your back arched with a quick scream of pleasure and the overstimulation that you associated with squirting. Joel groaned in pleasure as you burst with feeling.

“Atta fuckin’ girl, baby! That’s it, shit I’m gonna come,” Joel gasped as you soaked him, a vision beneath him, sweat slicked tits bouncing, mouth agape in a shout of intense pleasure and eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.

Joel's hips stuttered, his balls tightening even more as he felt his pleasure travel from deep within his core, up to the swollen tip of his cock. “Fuck, baby,” Joel whimpered into your neck as he began to spurt his come deep into your womb, hips stuttering and grinding against yours with the need to stuff you full of his cum.

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered as you felt him empty himself within you. You nudged his head as he did, wanting to see his handsome face in pleasure. He lifted and looked down at you, cum still spilling, overflowing you and trickling down your ass. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up good. I want all your cum,” you whispered softly as you gazed up at him. His face was so vulnerable and needy in that moment you couldn’t help but clench around him once more.

His balls had emptied with each ejection of his cum inside you, hips finally stilling as his cock became oversensitized to the stimulation still happening.

“Easy, baby girl. Easy.” Joel chuckled as he fell against you, completely spent before kissing you so softly that your heart jumped. “You think I can go again at my age?”

“You think I can go again after that?” You giggled breathily, completely satisfied. The impending avalanche of emotions purged from you in pleasure by your lover.

“Yeah, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.” Joel rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, a small grin on his face, eyes as soft as chocolate ice-cream.

“Then you don’t doubt yourself either.”

“I know my limits and my back is shot, darlin',” Joel grumbled in annoyance, his softly grinning face turning so grumpily pouty you couldn’t help but melt, you loved that you got to see this side of him that he unveiled to no one else but you. He really was all yours.

“Oh, poor baby,” you whispered to him before nudging him to the side so he could rest flat on the mattress, his softened dick slipping out of you with a flood of his cum which tickled your still trembling thighs. You definitely planned on giving him another back massage as soon as you both got some sleep, he had fucked you so perfectly; hard and loving. He certainly deserved it. “Rest now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

Joel sighed as he settled into the admittedly uncomfortable bed, but with you snuggling up against his chest he had no complaints.

“I don’t want you goin’ out there without me anymore, okay? Fuck the business, you’re more important.”

You looked up at him “As long as you don’t go out there without me either, we’re more important,” you agreed with a sigh of relief.

“Just you and me, darlin’. That’s all I need,” Joel assured you.

You snuggled deeper into his strong arms, a warm sense of safety and love blanketing your heart as his arms tightened and his lips kissed the top of your head with a mumbled, “Love you, hell-raiser.”

You kissed his chest before replying, “Love you too, big guy.”

A/N: Thank you to any of you who made it to the end of this, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to help this little story of mine find new readers💕😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #clare's stories #pedroslittlelady writes #tw: mention of suicidal thoughts #tlou fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #implied age gap #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction

[hunterbunter3000]

I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

--

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

--

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

#modern warfare fanfiction #konig x oc #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig #konig fluff #cod fluff #mw2 fluff #konig modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod imagine #mw2 headcanons #mw2 hcs #cod hcs #x female reader #black reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #cod x y/n #x reader #141 sweetheart headcanons #141 sweetheart #hunter's ask lounge ☕️

[five-flavor-soup]

Why the endgame couples in A:TLA weren’t necessary: a frustrated ramble

Listen I’m a Zutara shipper through and through (developed after my second rewatch in 2013) but by Tui Agni and La am I glad that it never happened in canon?? Like Kataang and Maiko themselves already felt so rushed and almost out-of-nowhere and their canonisation added like nothing to the plot. Aang’s crush on Katara is a plot device; Zuko’s relationship with Mai at the start of S3 is a plot device. I can barely fathom how Zutara would’ve turned out and I also kinda don’t want to. Imagine Zuko and Katara kissing at the end of the series: it feels completely out of left field, doesn’t it? Knowing that who-ends-up-with-who was an argument in the writer’s room for almost all three seasons means that it could’ve happened.

It shouldn’t have. I don’t think the Kataang kiss or the Maiko romance-reunion should’ve happened either. It’s unnecessary to add—there’s just no need for it, and my nagging here isn’t because I like Zutara and I don’t like how Maiko and Kataang turned out. It’s because the ships and couples and whatever the fuck else are NOT, and should not, be the point of A:TLA—and the ‘couple gets together in the very last scene and all is well :)’ shot suggests that it is.

A:TLA, to me, tried to show the horrifying nature of war and all its victims: the harrowing poverty, the deep-rooted trauma, the bloody violence. I interpreted the most prominent message of A:TLA to be that what was happening during those 100 years is wrong, that war is wrong—it affects the humanity within people, affects what point we offer empathy and kindness, because horrific trauma and needless violence muddies it all up. Why would you hold out a hand for someone who would’ve murdered you if they had the chance? Why would you physically support someone who hurt you and those you care about deeply? Those of the other nations can barely scrounge up empathy for someone from the Fire Nation, because those of the Fire Nation present themselves as inhuman. Those of the Fire Nation can barely scrounge up empathy for someone from any of the other nations, because the Fire Nation presents them as inhuman. And A:TLA shows that all these people are human, good and bad and all of that in between, because that’s just what humanity is. Varied and morally grey.

THAT’S what the GAang learns. That’s what the people around them learn. It’s what Iroh, a war criminal in his own right, tries to teach every child and teen who he interacts with: not in a preachy way, but in a vague way that implies he’d rather have them figure it out themselves lest they interpret his direct teachings wrong. He got indoctrinated into this terrorising, imperialist regime from the day he was born and onwards and it took a personal loss — the death of his son during a siege Iroh himself was leading, a siege in which Iroh and Lu Ten were the aggressors — for him to start thinking that maybe it’s all wrong. Maybe what he was taught is wrong. And he doesn’t want these children to take as long as he did.

The GAang and their (teenage) enemies and small antagonists have all been touched by war, almost to the point of no return. None of the need for violence, the calm in the face of battle and death, the willingness to sacrifice innocents for a sliver of retribution, the extensive knowledge of How To Fight A Battle And Win—none these qualities that these children (!!) may or may not portray are ‘normal’ teenage behaviours. They simply have to have them, or they die or freeze. Their childhoods were stopped in their tracks early because of experiences no child should ever experience. Such is the reality of war. And yet, in spite of the hurt and harm, the GAang is still capable of kindness and empathy. That’s what it’s about.

To end the series with explicit romance — Sokka/Suki doesn’t count, their relationship is not as in-your-face as The Scenes — just feels wrong. Maybe with another season of development it could’ve worked far better (and less unexpected, especially since the previous one-on-one Kataang interaction was Katara getting cross with Aang for kissing her when she was confused; and the previous one-on-one Maiko interaction was Zuko locking Mai in a cell/out of the way and then leaving without looking back). But with the three seasons that we got, it feels odd that the romance is highlighted at the end—especially when Zuko was miserable with Mai (with her being the human representation of ‘close your eyes and pretend everything’s fine’), and there ALSO was a perfectly good ending scene with the GAang bickering right there. Right before the ending kiss.

Why end it like that, when the series isn’t about romance, but about familial and platonic love and love for humanity instead? Why not just hint towards getting (back) together? What’s the point of these confirmations other than ‘the hero gets the girl’ in both instances?

#atla critical #avatar: the last airbender #kataang critical #maiko critical #anti kataang #anti maiko #just to be safe #they should’ve been developed way more imo #they just felt rushed idk what to say #the gaang #atla #LOVE zutara. am endlessly glad it isn’t canon #atla meta #i suppose?? #long post

[augustvandyne]

Angela x reader

In a relationship but not out to everyone yet and they get caught after a undercover mission making out

i hope this doesn’t suck too bad lol.

also i had writers block which explains why i haven’t posted in a few days.. anyway, send in some asks because i have one for andy and im out!!

going undercover

You weren’t even completely sure how you got roped into this undercover op.

All you knew this morning was that there was an op, a description of what was going on, and that Lucy wanted in. So that meant you were leaving yourself out of it.

At least you were, up until Nyla and Grey had specifically asked for you.

Something about you being open about liking girls, and that was needed in this op.

You tried to explain that you didn’t want it, that Lucy wanted it and that she could act way better than you could—but Nyla was not having any of it.

She wanted you on this, and that was final.

But she also wanted, surprise surprise, Angela on this as well.

You already knew of the case, because the LAPD has been following it for almost a year now, and still haven’t been able to arrest the gang of three.

They were traffickers. For all of it. Drugs, guns, and people.

So your guys’ job was to keep tabs and to eventually bust them.

Angela would work at a bar to keep tabs on a few members who hung around there, and you’d keep hidden. Try to blend in along with the gang.

Angela hated the idea of putting you in that kind of danger, but she couldn’t say anything to jeopardize your guys’ relationship.

Nyla and Grey said the operation would take at least a week, so the two of you tried to see it as a good thing.

You’d be alone for a week—and you wouldn’t have to hide.

The two of you were sent home to pack your duffel bags, and then you were off.

There was a small apartment set up above the bar the two of you would be hanging around at for the next two weeks, and that was where the two of you would be staying.

You and Angela had the rest of your night to yourselves until the real job started tomorrow, and so the two of you spent your time in bed together.

You took turns holding each other, not knowing how much time the two of you would be able to spend holding each other within the next week.

Angela lays with her arms wrapped around you, your hand resting on her cheek as you lay with your head on her chest.

“No matter what happens—“

“Don’t think like that,” Angela cuts you off, lifting your head so you were looking at her. “ever.”

“I’m sorry Ange,” You look down, only to have Angela force your stare back up to her. “I can’t lose you.”

“And you won’t,” Angela gives a smirk. “I won’t have it. Not under my watch.”

She leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips.

You take in a breath, all the anxiety hitting you at once.

“I’m scared,” You admit.

“I know,” Angela presses her lips together, her eyes casting over you in a scared and concerned manner. “I am too.”

“We’ll watch out for each other,” You nod.

“I know we will,” She kisses your forehead and the two of you fall asleep that way. You, wrapped in her arms, your hand on her cheek, and her lips pressed against your head.

You were beginning to hate this undercover operation all together.

Not only did you hate watching Angela be buttered up and flirted with all night, but you also hated being ogled yourself. You could feel Angela’s stare on you, and you were worried she might give the two of you away.

You played into whatever the men had needed and they bought every single one of your words.

They’d let you in on when trades would be going on, and where, but Nyla and Grey insisted you wouldn’t be able to bust them until they saw it in action. They may just be bluffing, they told you.

And so they wanted you to get in on a trade, but Angela hated that idea.

When you guys had checked in a few nights before, she’d fought them on it, all but shouting at them. Nostrils flared, teeth bared, jaw clenched.

She would have started screaming at them, had you not put your hand on her thigh to calm her.

“We’re just on edge,” You’d said in order to keep the two of yours relationship a secret. “She doesn’t want me to die, that’s all.”

“I sure hope not,” Grey chuckled.

And since then Angela had kept a close eye on you. Dreading the moment the men gave in and gave you their full trust.

Which was the main reason you’d seen her eyes on you every time you looked up.

“We could use another round,” Pierce said, finishing his glass of beer off.

“No problem,” You smiled, placing your hands on the table to you could push yourself up.

The men stare at your behind as you sway your hips over to the counter.

“Another round,” You requested to Angela.

“I don’t like this,” Angela says, taking her time to pour the several beers.

“So you’ve said,” You laughed nervously. “The last four times I’ve come up here.”

“I don’t like you drinking this much,” She starts on the second cup.

“I’m still on my second,” You assured her. “The others are drinking my round.”

She gives you an angry look.

“When this is all over..”

“I’m going to smack you,” Angela squints at you.

“No you won’t,” You say cockily.

“You’re right,” Angela sighs. “I worry.”

“Don’t,” You cut her off. “There’s a trade tonight. They’ll take me. I’m sure of it.”

“This will all be over tomorrow,” Angela blinks, trying not to show excitement on the outside.

“It will,” You nod.

You grab the four beers and place them on the table several feet away.

“Drink up princess,” The boss, Leon, demands in a low voice. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

“Us?” You tilt your head, your eyes locked on Angela’s as you down the rest of your beer.

“Us,” Keons right hand man, Noah, confirms, grabbing your hand from across the table.

It takes everything inside of you not to pull your hand away from him and hurl.

It also takes everything inside of Angela not to march over to the table you’re at and kick all three of the guys’ asses, but she is able to contain herself and help the next customer in line.

To Leon’s word, the three of them do bring you along to the trade, although you didn’t realize you’d be the thing they were trading for the human portion of the trade until you arrived.

Thankfully, they’d needed another round before heading out, and you’d given Angela the location and time.

When they pulled up to the destination, you prayed Angela, Nyla and a team were somewhere around the place to save you.

You’d played as nice as you could as the trade was going about. You smiled nicely, and did whatever Pierce, Leon, and Noah asked of you.

You were beginning to give up hope as they handed you off to the man who bought the big three, just as they were busted.

“LAPD!” Nyla stood behind the three of them, who got shot the second they reached for their own guns.

“Down!” You heard your girlfriend shout, and so you did. You dropped to the ground, the grip of the man behind you releasing as he’d been shot in the shoulder from above.

You looked up to see Angela above with her sniper.

“Clear!” Nyla shouted as the man behind you fell to the ground in pain.

Lucy and the rest of the gang came out from their hiding spots.

You launched off the ground into Lucy’s arms, needing the feeling safety.

“Where’s Angela?” You looked around frantically.

“I don’t know,” Lucy says, holding onto you tighter. “I’m just glad you’re okay. And I promise I’m not mad over you getting the part. I don’t know what I would have done in this position. And you did this on three beers? I would’ve been dead on my feet—“

“I love you, Lucy, but you’re breaking me,” You wheeze out.

“Oh, I’m sorry—“

“Officer Chen!”

“I’ll be back,” Lucy gives you one last squeeze before hurrying off in the direction of where her name was called.

You made sure no one was watching you as you all but sprinted in the direction of where you last saw Angela.

She caught you off guard as she grabbed you and pushed you against one of the many large shipping containers that are placed around the docking yard.

“I hate you,” Angela all but growls in your face.

“No you don’t,” You grab her head in your hands and pull her down to your face.

“You’re right,” Angela breathes out.

“I’m okay. I promise.”

“You better be,” Angela pulls her lips away from yours, looking over you for any scratches, just to be sure.

“I am,” You insist. “From now on, no more undercover. I need to make sure you’re okay too, I love you and I can’t lose you either.” You say, pulling her face closer to yours, everything around you drowning out.

“Oh-“ Grey turns away as Nyla comes to see what it is.

Angela pulls herself away from you as you put your hands up to your face.

“What-“ Lucy says with wide eyes.

“How long has this..” Nyla points between the two of you.

“Uh..” You make a face behind your hands.

“Hm.”

“How did you even hide this?” Tim shakes his head.

“We’re very good?” Angela scratches her head.

“My office,” Grey says looking between the two of you. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

“How—“ Lucy just shakes her head.

“Sir—“

“I have a feeling this will still be going on, and we’ll need to fill out paper work,” Grey nods, turning to walk away, everyone but Lucy turning to follow.

They were in disbelief, to say the least.

You lick your lips nervously, “No problem.”

Angela chuckles, turning back to you, taking one of your hands in her own. She lifts your knuckles to her lips and gives them a soft kiss.

“Let’s go home.”

“I just— how?!” Lucy says as the two of you leave the secluded space.

#the rookie #the rookie x reader #angela lopez #please ask me about miss angela #ask about her pleaseeeee #send asks #wlw post #angela lopez x reader #gorgeous #pretty please #i love you!!! #lucy chen #nyla harper #wade grey #lapd

[elliesfireflys]

Its Always Been You.

Abby Anderson x Reader

you’ve always hated each other. Always trying to be the number one W.L.F member, until one night you get locked in a room together and words start to spill.

proofread?: no

a/n: first abby fic everyone clap🙏 literally got writers block for like 2 months but I somehow finished this (i re-wrote it like 3 times) (endings rushed sorry)

Abby Anderson. The woman who was always somehow arguing with you. Didn’t matter what the argument was about, every time you saw each other. It never ended up well.

Take it as for right now, It was late at night as you and Abby were sent off to grab last minute supplies for tomorrows patrol. Guns, ammo, food. And of course, Abby said some sly remark, and it didn’t go so well with you.

“I can’t believe you just said that! You know you’re real inconsiderate Anderson.” You Sternly said, still walking towards the supply cabin, not daring to look at her as you were fuming.

“Oh wow, used my last name huh? Am I supposed to be scared? If so i’m shaking in my boots. Really shook me up there.”

And her lovely sarcasm, it’s just apart of her personality.

As you both reach the supply cabin, Abby reached for the door and opens it swiftly, but not bothering to hold it for you. A quick ‘bitch’ is muttered underneath your breath.

“I heard that.”

Obviously not quiet enough.

You let out a breathy sigh. “What do we even need in here.”

“Supplies.” She blankly replies, starting to look around for god knows whatever you need. “Well yeah, no shit. But did they request any specifics?”

“Just some health packs, ammo, snacks,” she sighs before continuing “Shit like that.”

“Great.”

As you were both finishing up getting supplies in silence, you hear a guard starting to walk towards the door of the building where you and Abby stood. Keys start to jingle as the lock that was on the door gave a click sound.

“Hey Jack! I just locked up the supply cabin for the night.”

Abby turns to look at you, pale in the face. You run to the door, starting to knock loudly trying to get the guards attention.

“Hey! We’re in here you know!”

“Abby. He’s already gone.” Looking out the unfortunately small window seeing nothing but a dark sky filled with stars.

“Fuck.” Abby mumbles under her breath, closing her eyes so she can really take in what’s happening. “I cannot believe this is happening right now.” She runs a hand across her forehead.

“Well,” you sigh “Let’s just, try and find a way out I guess.” Groaning, you start to pull at the door. Trying to get something out of it. Of course with your luck, nothing happens.

“Dude, it’s not gonna budge.” You turn to face the blonde rolling your eyes

“Mhm, and how do you know?”

“Maybe if you had eyes you’d see it’s because it’s not fucking moving when you pull.” There was no hope with the door, leaving you to slide down the wall dramatically, Abby following, sitting on the cold floor with a semi comfortable silence. You take this time to look at the blonde across from you. Taking in her features, the freckles going from scattered across her face, down to the ones on her shoulder that can be seen through her grey muscle shirt she has on. Speaking of muscles, her arms take your attention long enough for her to notice.

“Take a photo, it’ll last longer.” She snaps you out of your trance, your eyes darting up to her blue ones. “What?” You pretend to not know why she said it, but it’s obvious both of you know.

She chuckles, her voice a low rasp. “You were staring.”

A low “Sorry.” comes out of your mouth.

“Don’t apologize, i’d look at myself too if I were you.”

Tilting your head, “That’s kind of cocky of you, don’t you think?” But who were you to say that. Abby knew she was cocky. it was probably her middle name. Abby cocky Anderson. Sounds right.

“There’s a difference between being cocky, and being confident. You just happen to be neither.” Abby sighs looking at you with a sad look.

“What’s the sad face for Anderson?”

“Just sucks you don’t have confidence.”

You cock your head in confusion. Not knowing what she meant. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“It’s just,” She sighs before speaking, “If I looked like you I would be a lot more confident than how you are now.”

Wow.

You smirk, cheeks growing red. “Did you just compliment me?”

Abby perks up, “Don’t get to ahead of yourself now, but yeah. As much as I dislike you, there’s no denying that you’re very pretty in everyone’s eyes.” It comes out soft from her mouth, like she meant every word she said. And she did. Your mouth is slightly open in awe, leaving you both staring into each other. It feels like her stare is looking into your soul, able to read every thought in your head. “Jeez, you don’t know how to take a compliment?” she huffs out.

“No I do, it’s just, coming from you it sounds different. But thank you, Abby.” She shrugs her shoulders as a ‘Don’t mention it.’ “Your not to bad yourself.”

“Aw, that’s cute.” She sarcastically says. “But thanks.” A silence fills the room once again. This time, it’s less hostile. Abby’s mouth opens before closing quickly, as if she was going to speak, but had changed her mind.

“What?” You question the blonde.

“You know, it’s hard to hate you.” She breathes out.

“I need more context than that Abby.”

“You’re hard to hate. I like you too much if im being honest with myself.”

Abby sets her head down, looking at the floor. At this point, she’s looking anywhere but your eyes. She’s to scared to see how you’re reacting to this information. But, if she looked up she would see that your cheeks are red and there’s a slight smirk on your face.

“Abs. Can you look at me?”

Abby has a pink tint on her cheeks from the new nickname from you. She picks her head up to see your expression is not what she was expecting.

“Oh.”

“Well, what do you mean by ‘I like you too much’” You somehow find yourself unconsciously moving closer to her, Abby didn’t seem to take notice until you were next to her.

“Um, well. I guess I was jealous of you, in a way. And sooner or later I realized, that the jealousy, was just attraction towards you. But I just played it off as me not liking you. Then you didn’t like me back, so we just went back and forth with each other. And as much as I try to find something bad in you, I can’t find anything negative about you. And I cant say that about many people.” She breathes and it feels like her first breath in ages. “That’s what I mean by that.”

It’s quiet. Once again it’s quiet. This seems to happen a lot here.

“Abby.”

She hums in response.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you grab her face and bring it towards yours until your lips are against each other. Sighing into the kiss, Abby starts to move her lips in a slow paced rhythm.

Finally parting lips, Abby looking into your eyes with a new look.

“I think I like you too much too.” You giggle at the end of your sentence. Just as she was pulling you in for another kiss, the lock on the door is heard unlocking. The door swings open with a W.L.F member, Luke, standing there.

“Jesus. You guys been in here long?”

Abby looks at you, then back at Luke.

“Maybe a little too long.”

#tlou2 #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x you

[charmac]

They’re not allowed to read fanfic? Darn, I kind of assumed Rob found your Twitter handle from reading your fic since he didn’t seem to do anything else on twitter when he followed you

So it comes down to the basic idea of copyright. It’s not illegal or technically even banned, but since RCG are creators, writers, producers, etc. on Sunny and not just actors, it’s really a dicey area for them.

The copyright laws/legality of fanfiction is actually really interesting, there’s a long, messy modern history of fighting for the right to publish and protect fanfiction from studios and/or creators claiming copyright infringement. This use to be a huge issue where authors would send cease and desists to websites like Fanfiction.net to take down all fanfiction of their work. OTW (Ao3) kind of spearheaded the right for fanfiction to exist apart from what it's derived from. The T standing for Transformative argues that because fanworks ‘transform’ the content they are based off, they are exempt from copyright law, as long as there’s no profit. So we cannot find ourselves in legal trouble for publishing fanfiction. As long as it's transformative (aka you're not just republishing source material), it's new/original content.

So that means fanfiction kinda has its own protections in return. As long as you're not profiting off of your work, you have a right to claim that your fanfiction and the ideas that are new/original belong to you. Which means if there is ever any proof that a creator read your work and then a later episode (or sequel, book, etc.) reflected anything you wrote that was not already in the source material prior to that, it can get very messy, in that there may be grounds for you to claim they profited off of your work. So most creators (writers especially) avoid reading fan works.

You can see why for a show like Sunny they might be especially careful reading anything, since there’s so much you can do in that show. If RCG have an idea for something as simple as The Gang Goes Camping, for example, but they’ve previously seen or read a fan work that hit that plot they’d be pretty inclined to never make the episode.

The basic idea being that you don’t want to hinder what you can in good conscience, with no legal issues, write, so you avoid fanworks all together.

I'll give you an example based on what happened with Charlie: he was in public and surrounded by fans and one fan hands him his spec script, or plot idea for an episode. If he had read it, all of a sudden whatever was on that paper becomes a legally grey issue in the writers room. If they liked the plot idea or dialogue (or whatever was on that paper) and end up using something in an actual episode, what claim does the fan now have? Everyone at the event could potentially tell you that this fan contributed to the show, so it's best not to read it. Don't risk ruling out a plot line you may have wanted, don't risk accidentally stealing from a fan, don't risk the show ending up in a legal battle.

Also, first anon: I still don't know why or have any solid proof as to how Rob found my account, but at the time he followed me I did have a 5hr old Tweet with ~15k likes reposting one of his TikToks and calling him the cringiest person alive. I didn't tag him or name him, he didn't like it, or interact with it or any of the replies or literally any other Tweet that day, but I have to imagine he saw it and that's why he followed me. Degradation kink overrules everything else.

#ask #fanfiction #what about aus? :) #could my plot ever happen? not until they invent time machines.. #nah its still an issue i think they'd avoid bc dialogue and other potential plots #dennis is circumcised bc the first ever fanfic was about him being uncut and they couldnt risk the infringement #i made that up tbc... there were no fanfic claims back then #that fic was and is real tho #imagine the first thing anyone writes about your show is about your dick anatomy #well thats on brand for them im sure rob had a blast finding that

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I made it better

I'm assuming this is because of me getting annoyed at Azutara shippers in my other blog and calling them and Tyzula fans the "Azula fandom's equivalent of Zutara and Zukka" XD

Anyways *grabs a megaphone and gets on a soap-box*

As a bisexual woman that would go crazy with joy if Azula was gay/bi, and that ships her with Ty Lee and Mai, and even Toph and Suki every now and then, let me make one thing very clear here: Azula DOES have a confirmed canon sexuality, and it's straight. Heterosexual. Likes guys and only guys. The idea that ANY gay ship was CANON in ATLA, a show made in 2005 by a kid's Network, is ridiculous.

Azula explicitly stated that she has tried to flirt with boys before and it never worked out because they are scared of her. She was jealous that boys were paying attention to Ty Lee - and while fanfic writers, and even I, like to say stuff like "Oh, you don't like them getting too close to your gilfriend, Azula?" it's VERY CLEAR that the show was going for the classic "Why do they like her and not ME?" aka she wanted attention from GUYS. She wanted to hook up with Chan, and immediately went for "Let's conquer the world together!" after one kiss. Even the up-coming Azula comic has her dreaming of a guy trying to flirt with her and calling her pretty.

For fuck's sake, Grey Delisle already admiting to voicing the scene between Azula and Zuko as if Azula was trying to seduce her own brother. Meanwhile, even though she likes Tyzula now, when asked about the ship her first reaction was the same as the one every actor, writer and/or showrunner had to hearing about popular gay ships: "I did not see that coming."

It might seem surreal nowadays that the Network let the show get away with incest bait but gay characters were out of question, but that's what happened because, surprise surprise, homophobia was still going strong. Hell, it's still going strong TODAY.

Lots of Nickelodeon shows from the 90's and early/mid 2000's tried to get away with implying or flat out saying "This character is gay" and it ALWAYS resulted in banned episodes, some of which became lost media because the Network was just that desperate to bury any evidence of it to avoid controversy. Even characters that never had any love interests ever were assumed to be straight - not as in "treat them as being straight unless we say otherwise" but in "They are straight because that's the only thing allowed to exist in kid's media." There was no "otherwise" to be heard of. Fitting for years that followed the policy literally called "DON'T ASK, DON'T TELL."

THAT was the general sentiment around homosexuality at the time, especially on TV (KIDS TV, I remind you): pretend you don't know that's a thing.

Even The Legend Of Korra, that parts of the fandom still pretends did anything for gay representation, had the creators (the same who made ATLA) that they never even bothered to ask Nickelodeon if they could Korrasami happen, and thus kept the whole love triangle, with the girls fighting over a GUY, going. It wasn't until the very end that they had the guts to ask "Can we make them hold hands in the finale?" and Nick said "Sure, the final season will basically not be aired on TV anyways." Bryke even had to state ONLINE that "Yes, they are a couple." Only THEN, with the positive response from audiences, that neither the writers nor the Network had thought could ever gain any sympathy for the show, did they make Korra and Assami have an actual relationship in the Korra comics.

Do these guys sound like the type that would leave a character's sexuality up for debate or even try to write a gay couple into the show IN 2005, years before Korra was allowed to get away with a slight hint of gayness that to be explained on Twitter?

They didn't make Azula's attempts to win guys over fail to show she was a gay teen trying too hard to be something she was not, her envy that Ty Lee was getting a ton of attention from boys while she wasn't was meant to be taken as EXACTLY that, and no cutesy moment between her and her friends was meant to be taken as anything other just gals being pals.

We can, and should, point out that it is unfair that gay relationships were treated as "too adult" while straight romances weren't. We can change any character's sexuality in fanfics. We can ship whatever the hell we like. But claiming Azula was EVER meant to be seen as anything other than a 100% straight girl that just sucked at flirting and thus was struggling to get a boyfriend is just a flat out lie.

She's not bisexual. She's not a lesbian. Her sexuality was not "left up to debate" because THERE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE A DEBATE!

Again, I would love a bisexual Azula (provided that wasn't handled by people like Yang and Bryke, who see her as nothing more than an ableist stereotype), but let's not kid ourselves here.

Nickelodeon is not our "ally", they're a company that wants your money. Bryke, by their own admission, were not revolutionaries who pushed for gay representation and were ready to give up on the idea of same-sex relationship with no resistence if the Network told them "no, only straight romances allowed". Korra was no Steven Universe or even Adventure Time, it was basically Disney with it's 50th "first" gay character that gets five seconds of screentime. Azula's sexuality absolutely WAS confirmed and it is (sadly for me) heterosexual.

And to the people that claim to love headcanons for bisexual Azula, but still insist I should only ship her with women, or make her strongly prefer women, or only have had bad experiences with men and positive ones with women, otherwise she'll be "basically straight": your biphobia is showing, stop hating on bi women everytime they shatter your ilusion that we're just confused/in denial and will eventually realize we're actually lesbians.

#azula #azula is straight #*cries in bisexual annoyance*/frustration #homophobia #biphobia

[mixsethaddams]

Steve was bored.

Like, it was about to become a problem type of bored. He was practically falling asleep at his desk and he was already on warning after being late to work. You’d think his boss would be a little kinder for something as simple as sleeping through an alarm, but noooooo. She had to ‘make an example’, apparently. What a bitch. Instant written warning, no second chances.

Great.

It didn’t even happen for a good reason anyway. He binged some dumb Netflix show and kept hitting ‘Next Episode’ until 4am. It wasn’t even well written. So now here he was with a weight behind his eyes and half a mind to write a strongly worded letter to find out what the hell the writers were thinking with that ending.

He would have called out entirely if it wasn’t Wednesday. Steve’s favourite day of the week, because Wednesday was the day the interns from the business campus across town came in.

They were all Steve’s age or thereabouts, his status as a nepo baby securing his less-than-desirable spot in his father’s business behind this stupid desk, and under the watchful eye of Diane, right out of highschool. He envied how the students came in, sat in the corner of meetings and took frantic notes, before going off in a great big gaggle for lunch together while Steve ate a foil wrapped ham and cheese sandwich alone in the staff break room.

So Wednesday meant interns, meant crowded meetings, meant loud discussions of how to split a deli tab, meant Eddie.

Eddie.

Steve could barely keep his eyes off him any time he paraded through the office. His grey slacks were on the borderline of being too baggy for dress code, his white shirt was never tucked in but it was fitted to the point of maybe it was just a size too small, so it didn’t matter anyway. Even his slim black tie, flying around as Eddie bounced through the office, gave an extra endearing quality to the man. And the mop of curly hair, haphazardly thrown up into a bun on top of his head? Don’t get Steve started.

Steve had been looking for an ‘in’ for months now. Time was running out, the internship programme would be ending soon and Wednesday would go back to being just a regular day. No students, no Eddie. Steve tried once or twice to say hi when they passed in the parking lot but Eddie only ever offered a distracted smile before going back to whatever he was doing on his phone. He never even took out his headphones.

It wasn’t until Steve was sitting in the break room one Thursday, forcing himself to chew through stale bread and ham that had smelled better yesterday, that he finally got a chance. He was silently stewing at the fact Diane was forcing him to reenter a huge data sheet of figures later on that day. He fucking hated reentries, and she knew it.

“Hey,” said Eddie, standing at the door before sitting across from Steve at the table.

Steve realised he’d gone too long without replying when Eddie’s eyebrows quirked inwards.

“Hey, hi, yeah…. Hey,” said Steve quickly. He was suddenly very aware of how bland his grey shirt/navy sweater combo looked in comparison to Eddie’s….everything. It didn’t matter that Eddie was dressed in monotone greys today, it was just him.

“You’re not usually here on Thursdays,” said Steve, aiming for casual.

Eddie smirked.

“Yeah well,” he said, leaning back heavily in his chair. “I messed up some figures yesterday so I offered to come in today to fix it. No classes in the afternoon so, made sense,”

Eddie finished with a shrug. Steve had no idea what he’d just said because this was actually the first time he’d heard Eddie’s voice without the buzz of the entire office in the background and he felt like he wanted to swim in it.

“Cool, cool,” said Steve, hoping that was an appropriate response.

Eddie nodded and regarded Steve carefully, eyes dragging over the parts of him that weren’t hidden by the table.

“You take a lot of notice when I’m here….?” began Eddie, leaning forward and motioning for Steve to fill in the blank.

“Oh, S-Stephen, Steve, uh, Steve,” he stammered, clearing his throat.

“Steve,” repeated Eddie slowly. “I’m Eddie,”

Steve knew his name. Had made a mission of finding it out. Broke six different company policies on privacy to find it after the first week.

Steve just nodded, shy now.

“So tell me, Steve,” said Eddie, dragging his teeth over his lip when he said Steve’s name. “Do you always notice when I’m not here?”

“It’s…It’s intern day, Wednesdays,” floundered Steve. “You’re an intern. Wednesday is your day. To be here, I mean, and this is…Thursday, so…”

Eddie’s eye narrowed as a grin tugged on the edge of his mouth.

“Desk 405, right?” asked Eddie, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Third cubicle past the bathrooms, right next to the cooler?”

Steve’s mouth dropped open.

“Yeah, yes, uh, how did…” Steve cleared his throat again. “Why do you know where my desk is?”

Eddie stood, pocketing the paper again.

“You’re the one who’s going to help me fix my mistake,” said Eddie, rapping his knuckles on the table, calling over his shoulder as he left. “Thank Diane, she said you love data reentry,”

Steve did always like Diane.

#and if I said I want to turn this into a stalker steve fic? #then what? #steddie #my writing #seth writes

[collectivecloseness]

I like that fact that you as a writer agree that Kurt is so a sub

Kurt is such a sub. One who probably thinks, or likes to act like he’s a dom at first, but then his first partner immediately sinks their teeth into him, like “I know what you are.”

Kurt Kunkle x reader

Kurt moans shakily, but with volume, underneath you. His brown eyes up at you while his hands hold your hips for dear life. Trying to get his heart to slow down so he can get his words out, while he watches you riding him hotly from above.

“Pl-Please? Please I need to cum!”

“No.”

Kurt cries out, whining and a sob leaving his throat. Thrashing slightly underneath you, his head falling to the side dramatically on his pillow, as a whine starts to rise in his bare chest.

He’d already tried hiding his boner for nearly an hour before this but it just wouldn’t die, not when you looked so sexy lying on your front next to him as you both watched tv in bed. Kurt randomly starting to feel in the mood as he did every day, looking at the way your chest pressed up against your arms, how your foot kept kicking back and stroking his waist. And fuck, that skirt riding up your thighs.

Watching them press and squeeze together, especially when you laughed with the film. Looking at the way they’d shift, rolling into his bed sheets, sometimes that thigh gap driving Kurt crazy, or fuck, when they spread just that bit and Kurt could imagine he could see what panties you were wearing today, under the dark of your clothing. Kurt had even gotten to feel your thighs, just under your skirt. You’d let him slip his hands between both your warm thighs, tight and heated against his grasp. Feel the back of them just under the shadow of your skirt, his fingers tracing up there lovingly, exploratory, before he could cup the sides of them. But you’d later said that was a treat, and it meant you got to be more in charge now.

But then you teased him while sitting directly on the bulge in his grey jeans, asking if he could feel how wet you were through only your panties, and when he sadly admitted he couldn’t, not letting him get out of his pants yet so he could. And after you spent about five whole minutes only kissing his torso, his sensitive stomach, you’d been on top of him fucking hard for so long now. Well, long enough Kurt wanted to let go for the first round. But while Kurt liked your dominance earlier, even nodding underneath it, now he was too needy to sit back, be quiet and play good.

Kurt pouts up at you after your denial, at first determinedly, with those big shiny puppy eyes at you. Hands still clawing into your thighs though.

But at his frowning pout, you only teasingly “Aww” at him, moving one hand from where it’s pushing his tanned chest down, to gently tugging and playing with his hair. Kurt pushing your hand away.

Until that is, you see a thought appear behind his eyes. Gently he brings your hand back, with the one not holding you for stability, as you keep rocking, and he squeezes tenderly, pouting with a more innocent look now. And a sweet voice. “Please? I’ll be really good next time.”

“Uh uh. That’s what you said last time, and the next time you were a brat, like you usually are.” You raised a brow, slowing down just to hump lazily against his cock now. Your fingers splayed on his soft stomach while you feel him practically already throbbing inside of you, you’re surprised he hasn’t blown already. Still, you love watching your Kurt be teased.

Kurt looks like he’s about to strop again, pull a mini tantrum, until he thinks about his apparent reputation. Even though he has to breathe through his mouth because it feels like any blood he has is being pumped straight to his cock right now, and he can feel that sweat on his upper lip, he swallows his moans and self pity to try and focus on working on you instead. And Kurt knows how to do that.

“I’ll eat you out for three hours straight.”

He promises it. Bucking just underneath you, glad it gets you to start circling your hips more, as you’re practically sat on him at this point. And his lips are already watering, through his slight pants.

“Kurt, you try to do that anyway. I have to literally drag you off me by the hair after two. That’d just be an extra reward for you.”

“You won’t let me do anything!” Kurt yells slightly, all wound up. Breath shaky as he tries not to sob under you. He can feel you pulsing around him, squeezing his desperate cock so badly, like you’re teasing him even more! And he’s trying so so hard not to just bust in you right there.

Whines wracking his body as you experimentally bounce on him. Wanting to cross his arms over his chest, or throw them up in defeat, but only able to squeeze your thighs more in need, and grip onto you for dear life, while whining vocally.

Which is when you decide to make your move. Sitting right down on Kurt rather suddenly, with a force that gets him to gasp, giving you the opportunity to take your poor boyfriends chin in between your thumb and fingers, and make him look up at you.

“Hey... If you start being a good boy for me, I’ll let you cum inside, like I promised.”

Kurt’s eyes widen.

He shoots up, leaning up instead, while you still have a grip on his chin, bouncing on his cock, before Kurt’s immediately attaching his mouth to your neck.

Kurt kisses up and down your neck so much. Moaning as his plush lips and wet tongue taste you, kissing and sucking marks into your flesh, grazing his teeth over it, and moaning genuine breaths of pleasure and need, hot onto your spit covered skin. Yeah, he was definitely enjoying this too.

Your hand gripped his full brown hair, and he could feel your loud moan from your throat against his mouth and tongue, as you arched your head back loud, fucking down stickily onto his hard cock. Gripping onto Kurt’s hair and neck, as he lapped needily onto your own, fucking back up into you with his hands squeezed tight around your thighs. Tasting you, as your thrusts get harder and harder, and he can moan more right into your neck.

Maybe he really should start working on being a good boy for you more often.

#citrussy #Kurt Kunkle/reader #Kurt Kunkle Drabble #Kurt Kunkle #Kurt Kunkle x reader #spree 2020 #anon #ask #1k #just a shorter one tbh I need to write a bit more Kurt recently! #I loved writing a little more for him again! I need to find smth v inspiring to get a much longer one out for my baby as well #I am always open for Kurt time ✌️ #if anyone has any specific Kurt ideas lmk! #I think bc I’ve been bleh in my own life recently I need something that like just comes out and surprises/excites me to rly start writing to #my full potential a bit more atm maybe

[k-s-morgan]

Hey, I remember you doing this for Hannibal and Will, but I don't think you've weighed in about the sexual attractions Tom and Harry feel. I like to think Tom would love Harry at any gender. What do you think? BTW, loved the last chapter,, amazing job making me root for this pairing with the entirety of myself. I love it

Thank you so much, I'm happy you liked the last update!

Basing my answer on 7 books, we don't have much canon material to speculate about Tom's sexuality, but I always felt like he is either asexual, grey-sexual, or demisexual. If it’s the last two options, then he never met the person he'd feel desire for. I think he could have used sex to manipulate people and cultivate his connections, considering how good-looking and generally desirable he was, but I also think this was never his goal or wish. He was fully concentrated on getting power, knowledge, and recognition, and the rest either paled in comparison or simply didn’t exist, not for him. 

In my stories, Harry is definitely the person who stirs up attraction in Tom, and even if he had another gender/appearance, it wouldn't matter. I think they fit beautifully together. In WHGTB, Tom's physical desire mainly stemmed from his obsessive need to be close to Harry; I'm not sure how it's going to be in ATLWETD yet, but I feel like Tom is already experiencing a physical pull, even though it's too undefined for now.

Harry is bisexual, as I see it. He certainly pays attention to boys, though I think it was just JK inserting too much of a writer in him: for example, she probably wanted to underline how beautiful Tom Riddle is, but since Harry is the only narrator, it came across as Harry noticing his attractiveness. I have no complaints here, though :D

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #my fics

[kenny-the-ken]

Nights Like These

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! THIS ONESHOT CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT!! NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS!! What's up sexy cunts?! Long time no see!! I'm so so sorry for my absence, I've had some writer's block issues lately, I really wanna apologise and thank you guys for sticking with me!! Enjoy 🤭

Warnings!!: swearing, drugs, oral female and male receiving

Peaceful was the best way to describe the feeling and vibe of the entire situation. You sat long ways on your couch, legs stretched out with Kenny sat behind you, his pale, slender arms wrapped around your waist, chest flush with your back, you could feel his warmth, surrounding you in a blanket of security. You weren't going to lie and say that your relationship was perfect, in reality, no relationship was. People often blindsided through rose tinted glasses, that everything in their life was perfect, but that was all falsified information. Others only spoke of the good, never the bad. You and Kenny however, no matter how good, or how bad, you'd always find yourself returned to each other's arms, bodies flush, and minds at ease together.

You were watching The Office, the flickers of the almost burnt out candle, the only other light source aside from the television, lighting up your small living room. The ashtray sat atop your lap, a joint between your fingers, the crackling embers of burning tobacco and cannabis growing brighter as you inhaled, the smoke cascading down your throat and into your lungs, giving them a pleasing warmth, before exhaling the cloud of grey smoke. It danced in swirls around you, standing out against the bright TV screen. Kenny's chest rippled against your back as he laughed at the show, his grip tightening on you momentarily as you passed the joint to him by placing it between his pale pink lips that were dampened slightly by his saliva. “I love you.” You whispered, your head turned as best you could to gaze at your boyfriend's face.

And on the exhale of his first drag of the joint, Kenny grinned, “I love you too, baby.” His words were hushed, ashing the joint against the ashtray, taking another long drag, as his hand that had lingered on your hip moved, never breaking contact from your body once, to gently cup your breast in his hand, his thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple between them through your loose pyjama top. “Always so touchy, McCormick.” You teased, a playful smile pulling at your lips. “And don't act as though you don't enjoy it, love.”

And you knew he was right. There was absolutely no denying that fact. You wanted him already, and he'd barely even touched you. His head turned, lowering to your neck, your head instinctively lolling to the side, allowing the blond to nip and suck at your sensitive skin. “Kenny.” You whined, feeling him press closer against you, feeling his bulge pressed up against your lower back. “What, love? I don't seem to hear you complaining.” He replied, his voice husky and low, whispering against your neck. Your voice caught in your throat when his hand slid from your hip to just above your pussy. “Fuck.” You breathed out, a small smile on your lips, feeling Kenny's mouth still work on your neck, his fingers still teasing your nipples through your top.

“Maybe you should take this off.” Kenny's voice was low and husky, his warm breath tickling your sensitive neck. And you gratefully obliged, pulling your pyjama top from your body, tossing it to the floor. “That's better, baby. Now c’mere.” The blond beckoned, his eyes half lidded, and gaze fully fixated on your breasts. Kenny was never one to keep his hands to himself where you were concerned, both hands were immediately gripping at your chest, kneading the soft skin between his large, calloused hands, a growl emitting from his throat, practically lunging at you, pushing you backwards till your back landed into the leather couch.

Watching the blond pull his clothes from his thin frame was a sight that you would never get bored of, he was ethereal, his blond hair turning golden in the dim flickers from the candle sat atop the fireplace. “I want you laying on top of me, we're gonna sixty nine.” Kenny smirked, your eyes blowing out in shock, your hand covering your mouth and blush stained cheeks as you giggled a little. “I've never done that before, Ken. I don't know what I'm doing!” You exclaimed, Kenny's hands gripping your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapped around his small waist. “And neither have I, so if it sucks, we'll suck together, okay baby girl?” Earning a shy nod in agreement from yourself, before your lips were pressed together for a deep, intimate kiss.

Your tongues danced together, earning small huffs and moans from both of you, as Kenny lay down on the sofa, with you sat on top of his waist. You could feel his hard cock pressed against your ass, nothing but your thin pyjama shorts and panties separating your skin from Kenny's. “Take those off and then bring that pussy over here.” He purred, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he watched you with anticipation, and once they were off, Kenny's hands were back, griping you hard enough to leave bruises, and helping you get into the correct position.

“You ready, sweetheart?” The name that sounded so innocent and sickly sweet in this moment sent throbs through your pussy. He knew you were desperate, and it was clear he was too. Kenny gripped at your hips, pulling your body down, your chest laying flush against his lower abdomen, legs bent beside the blond’s head, his face disappearing between your thighs, licking a long stripe along your pussy, and the first taste made him hungry for more. “You taste so good, Princess.” Kenny mumbled, his mouth going straight back to work on your pussy, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud of nerves. Your eyes widened, a long moan escaping your parted lips.

You could barely focus on anything but the pleasure that was pumping through your body, and all of it from Kenny, and it was time to make him feel just as good as you did. Taking his cock in your hands, sticking your tongue out, kitten licking the very tip of his cock, making his hips rise up, chasing for more. What he didn't expect was for your lips to wrap around his head, swirling your tongue around it before taking as much as you could into your mouth, earning a choked, deep moan to leave Kenny's lips that were currently slick with your juices and his saliva. The vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

Kenny's tongue pushed into your tight heat, causing you to moan around the blond’s length. His hands were groping your ass, delivering a sharp slap to it. “Such a slut for me, aren't you?” The blond hissed, inserting a long, thin digit inside you, and pumping it in and out, still continuing to suck, and swirl his tongue around your clit. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You replied, pulling away momentarily before taking his length back into your mouth, your tongue flattening and cheeks hollowing to create perfect suction around him, and when you started bobbing your head up and down, you felt the low groans and grunts leaving your partner’s otherwise occupied mouth.

Two fingers were inside you, pumping in and out and crooking against your g spot, a gasp leaving you, causing Kenny's cock to slip slightly further into your mouth, and when you gagged and swallowed as best as you could with your mouth still full, earning a strangled moan from Kenny who was still lapping at your wetness, his eyebrows furrowed and fully concentrated on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you both had a familiar knot that was steadily untying itself inside you both. The deep, guttural moans from Kenny, mingling perfectly with your own high pitched moans and gasps. The smell of sex filled the room mixed with gingerbread from the candle that had finally burnt itself out. “I-I’m close, Ken.” You managed to gasp. Kenny hummed in response, “Cum for me, slut.��� He whispered against your cunt, his mouth instantly getting back to work on you. His fingers were curling inside you, pumping at a steady pace in and out of your hole, his tongue still circling your clit, and your head was bobbing up and down at a steady pace, with Kenny's desperate thrusts pushing his cock further down your throat, till finally with a final cry from you both, your orgasms crashed you back down to earth. “F-Fuck, Y/N, fuck.” Kenny groaned, a long moan leaving his mouth as his cock shot ropes of white cum down your throat, and once you'd swallowed you could finally call out for him, your orgasm having your head spinning, Kenny's name rolling off your tongue like a mantra, and he kept his mouth firmly on you even after you'd came, licking up every drop of your essence.

And once both of you had finally calmed your breathing, you got off the tall blond, who lay smirking, leaning over to pluck the long forgotten joint from the ashtray, and lighting it back up again, taking a long drag from it. “C’mere.” He whispered, holding his arms out, as your settled yourself on top of him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, your bodies flush once more. “I love you.” Kenny muttered sleepily, placing the joint between your lips, as you had done for him earlier. You took a long drag, exhaling the thick smoke before pressing your lips to his, before pulling away and grinning at him. “I love you too, pretty boy.”

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick headcanons #kenny mccormick smut #sp kenny #kenny sp #south park kenny #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park fandom #south park smut #south park x reader #south park x you

[saccharine-arts]

I feel like Orlox is quite underappreciated. If you count the shit he went though the first season alone, him killing Richters mother doesn't really make him that much of a villian. He probably is going to get enough beat downs from Erzabeth that he is going to be redeemed 10 times over, considering how she treats him as a pet and probably will do it again and again. I like anything that has to do with snakes, and considering that he literally turns into snake looking quetzalcoatl is even better. I just hope he won't loose another lover. There is already enough stress on the poor man. Protect him~

PROTECT HIM!!! Also you're so right, I don't even see him as much of a villain? He became an antihero for me, I'm such an apologist for him I'm not that mad about him killing Richter's mom lmao. I think their interactions and possibly having to work together more in the future is going to be super interesting.

The fact that Erzebet and Drolta had the absolute GALL to look at an Aztec/Mexica vampire who lived through the genocide and colonization of his people by the spanish, and try and sell them on their plan by telling him that he'd be their "guide to conquering the americas" and "we'll make a new world". LIKE?? It's almost funny the disconnect they have, and and how Olrox just lets them talk and assume what they want about him.

Olrox has more reason to kill Erzebet then anyone else in the series. It speaks so much to his character that he had so much cool control over his emotions with her and Drolta. That the most emotional we see him act is when Mizrak is threatened.

He's seen the spanish kill millions of his people. He lost his true love to a vampire hunter. You can tell that staying cool and analytical is a skill he's developed to survive. Waiting, observing, staying safe in the shadows. But then Mizrak shows up, reminds him of his lost love, and Olrox can't relive losing him again.

I absolutely adore characters (especially villainous or morally grey ones) whose greatest weakness/soft spot is love. I also love how he parallel's Dracula from the original show that way, and really like how we start off thinking he's going to be the Big Bad of the series, but he ends up being so sympathetic and having his goals align with our heroes.

I'm so scared of Erzebet knowing now that Olrox betrayed her to save Mizrak. If that happens and he gets put in danger I'm gonna go insane. MIZRAK YOU BETTER SAVE HIM BACK!!

I think it would be super cathartic and fun if either:

Olrox actually is a God. He ends up actually being Quetzalcoatl like how Erzebet becomes Sekmet. He's carrying a lost religion of a people who were murdered and colonized around with him always, when so few are around to remember him. And it can explain some of his interest in Mizrak and his faith, and some of his insider knowledge and lines about God and demons.

He keeps his cool and bides his time, working from the shadows, but when the heroes need him most he kills Erzebet. I want to see him get vengence on her for everything she represents and get to be really spooky about it.

Honestly wherever the writers go with him, there's so many good options it feels hard to go wrong. He's set up so well. I really want to know more about how he was turned. Also about his Mohican lover and how Richter's mom ended up killing him.

ALSO YESS I LOVE SNAKES TOO AND HIS QUETZALCOATL FORM..... he's so cool and pretty.... snek man...... I HOPE WE SEE MORE OF THIS FORM TOO

#olrox #castlevania nocturne #starling speaks #asks