#I was laughing so god damn hard during that scene.

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

#x men 97 #x men #morph #wolverine #morpherine #my stuff #wait what this actually ended up good #have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice? #what the fuck that's not fair

[melonthesprigatito]

Holy trinity of Mascot Legendaries whose designs are not really my taste but the game did such a damn good job at endearing them to me by giving them adorable/ goofy and charming personalities that I would die for them.

#Pokémon #calyrex #koraidon #ogerpon #Ogerpon being shy and cheerful but can wreck your shit with a cudgel #Koraidon being the Pokémon version of Toothless #Little sandwich loving goober #Calyrex being noble and regal but also really fucking goofy and not understanding human culture #The fact that he TALKS helps a lot #And the fact hes like LET ME SHOW YOU MY POWER and busts into a Irish jig to grow a single carrot #I was laughing so god damn hard during that scene. #The fact that the carrot popped out of the ground with a “DOINK” sound effect was the cherry on top

[nysrage]

Rollin’ To Love, Onyankapon.

synopsis: you and your friends scheduled a girls night at cascade for valentines & love seemed to roll your way.

content: romance, fluff, hard to get reader, & barely suggestive themes.

ny’s notes: so while taking a short break to reflect & improve my writing i came up with this new au inspired by @kaegetsmewetter. i advise listening to the songs i linked during their little moment to really immerse yourselves & hope you enjoy! happy love day babies! 🏹🩷

“I-I’m going to fall!”

You didn’t think your valentine’s would be going this way but it was debatable that it was better than how you’d normally spend it. This same recycled day had been the same for as long as you could remember. Just you alone in your room eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie— love jones. The few romances you had never made it past this societies ‘talking stage’ or either ended up as one of those emotionally draining situationships. It was as if love and romance never truly worked for you and only brought trouble.

Slowly you’d come to accept it, until there was a ring of your doorbell. Opening the door to your friends holding balloons, roses and some valentines cookies, “HAPPY VALENTINES BOO!” brushing past you and welcoming themselves into your home. The sight putting a smile on your face, it’d been so long that someone had done something so special for you beside your parents. “Awe y’all really didn’t have to do this..” engulfing them into a group hug and holding them tight, grateful for such attentive friends.

“Girl you deserve to feel loved on this special day too! That’s why we decided to spend the night with you.” kyndall reassured, popping one of the pink candies in her mouth.

“So go get dressed loser, we’re going to cascade!” Dallas giggled, pushing you towards your room. Whirling around in her hold with a questioning brow. “Really cascade..?”

“What.? I’m tired of the club scene and we could use some good fun like when we were teens!” Dallas shrugged, with that soft glint of excitement in her eyes. “C’mon it’ll be fun..” kyndall coaxed, fluttering those volume lashes until you gave in. surrendering your hands in the air and walking towards your room.

“Okay, okay! No promises i’m getting in that rink tho!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh my god, i’m never letting yall convince me into coming here againn!” you whined, gripping onto your bestfriend’s jacket for dear life. Legs wobbling from the rolling skates gliding across the smooth floor not seeking to stop anytime soon, especially not with the crowd of people blocking your way to get to that safety wall you could hold onto.

Saturdays were still apparently the hottest for cascade, everyone seeking for fun outlet for the night. The flashing multicolored lights dancing around the walls and floors, as you and your friends entered. A upbeat set of early 2000’s song blasting over the speakers, as you waited in line to secure a pair of skates. “girl, girl girl. the niggas is out, look!” her constant tapping in of your arm made you finally look up. the group of skaters in particular that caught kyndall’s eye, vibing along to ray j’s ‘sex can i’ with their routines. the front two standing out from the rest, one with a colored buzz cut and street wear fashion. The other a fine chocolate man with a white fitted polo tee that hugged his slim-muscular build, and head full of soft deep waves. Beautiful smile still white and flashing even beneath the hues that illuminated the floor.

“Yeah, we got to get to that floor. Now.” kyndall swooned, grabbing her skates and footing towards the nearest bench to get them on.

“Damn bitch. wait for us!” Dallas laughed, the two of you following behind your eager friend.

Leading you right to this moment, settled into an uneasy stance and terrified of the little control you had over your legs right now. Skates clunking against one another as you tried your best to glide smoothly across the floor. “you got it, glide one foot after the other..” Dallas instructed, but it just seemed as if your uncoordinated body just couldn’t get with it. Wobbling above the laminated floor. Hands wrapped tightly around hers as a effort to keep yourself steady and upright, praying that you wouldn’t eat up the floor.

“Okay, m’gonna let go.” Dallas nodded, eyes on yours as she slowly released your hand. “Don’t overthink it boo.” Your body wobbling a little before it steadied as you continued to roll slowly. “I-I think i got it..” you breathed out, hand cautiously out in front of you.

“Think you’ll be good while i take a few quick laps?” She questioned and you nodded, waving her off trying to concentrate on keeping yourself steady. Counting your steps to yourself as you try not to fall on your ass in front of the big ass crowd of people. Smiling to yourself at the slightest improvement and increase in speed until another skater brushed past you, bumping into your side with a scoff. “Girl move your non-skating ass out the rink, tryna be seen n’ shit..”

Tripping over your skates and stumbling forward when suddenly a quick hand caught your arm. One strong hand resting on your waist and steadying your body before your feet could’ve swept up off the ground. “woah, you good ma?” A shaky breath left your lips as you brush your crimped hair from out of your face, “Yea, i-i’m just gonna—” refusing to look up, rolling away with a face full of embarrassment. Strong hand still holding onto your arm until you sat firmly along the bench. “Don’t trip, it’s a lot of people showing out for the crowd.”

“Slow sets the best to roll to.”

If it was even possible you became more embarrassed once your eyes met the person talking to you, The man being one of the smooth skaters that led one of the groups from earlier. Now that he was up close you could take him in fully, from his perfectly sculpted jawline to his tattoo covered arms. Those pearly white canines covered with custom open faced grills on display as he expressed his love for slow sets. barely even realizing you’d been staring awkwardly as you looked him over, but he paid it no mind just properly introducing himself to you. “Shit my bad I’m onyankapon, most just call me ony tho.”

“y/n.” briefly introducing yourself, “i can’t see how y’all do all this without falling on your ass..” you huffed, frustrated from the short time you spent out in the rink.

Ony laughed at your cute little pout, taking a seat next to you. He couldn’t lie you caught his eyes from the moment he saw you. Pretty skin glowing beneath the illuminated lights as you cautiously rolled within the crowd of people, lip tucked behind your pretty teeth with focus in your eyes. “Been doing this since grade school, plenty of practice.”

“but you just feel and move with the beat” he further explained, pointing out the many people that demonstrated his words. “Don’t think just let your body do all the work and it’ll come to you..”

The dj mixed into a slow set, the lights dimming into soft romantic hues as the ‘unthinkable’ remix by alicia keys and drake began blasting through the speakers. Mood quickly setting in as the skaters eased into the tempo, dj extending the intro as he shares his quick sentiment over the mic. “This for all my single people that hadn’t quite found that one, or even haven’t found the right words to say your ready for more. but ima help you get to ‘em tonight!”

Unbeknownst it was a song the both of you found yourselves listening to quite often these days. Not knowing when that right person would come into your life and changing that lonely destiny you found yourself believing more and more. Mindlessly swaying to the beat, ony gave you a quick glance before standing with his hand held out for you. Your eyes widening in panic when he suddenly ask you to skate with him but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not when this had been that meant to be feeling this exact song had spoken of. Not waiting for him to finally get his one on one time with you eventually while he was in his element, and if he had to take the lead then he’d do exactly that.

“oh, no, no, no.” reaching back for a seat that was no longer in your grasp, ony shooting that same charming smile that caught your sights earlier as he pulled you onto the floor against your will. “i got you pretty, you trust me..?”

A small look of uncertainty occupying your face as you look over the crowd of skaters that vanished as you look back into his sincere eyes, giving in and uneasily skating forward to get closer to his towering form. Ony met you halfway and suavely spun your body into his, arms snaking around your waist as you took a slow unsteady breath as his hands rest just above your inner thighs. Heart thumping wildly in your chest as your body grows warm from those minuscule touches. Mind filled with nothing but him in that moment, that intoxicating jimmy choo cologne took over your senses as his protective arms tightened around you. Body turning to putty as you practically melting into his arms, nothing but a soft whisper leaving your lips.

“ony..”

“just focus on me…” warm breath fanning against your skin as his lip brushed the shell of your ear, keeping you pressed flush against him. Helping guide your movement to the slow rhythmic beat of the song, your small soft hands resting atop of his comfortably. Body submissively relaxing into his as you following his lead, swaying in sync as the two of you lose yourselves in a sensual stroll “there you go, feel the beat.” tapping softly to the beat against your thigh.

Maintaining a steady speed as if there were no one else in the building but the two of you. Strolling together for the rest of the night until the dj came to a satisfied close, happy with the outcome his slow sensual set had for the day of love. The two of you walking out the building together as the muffled music leaking through the doors. “Thank you for tonight.” you smiled, nervously pushing a loose crimp behind your ear. “Your a really good instructor.”

“Well I had a good partner.” he chuckled, that charm of his now in full swing “If you ever wanted to learn some more moves, I could give you my number..”

“Maybe even make into a little weekly date.”

“Maybe..” you hummed, looking him over as you backed away towards your friends. “same day and time next week?”

“bet, I never got your number tho.” reaching for his phone, as you giggled in the distance. Testing his patience on how much time and effort he’d really put into getting to know you, Opening the passenger door with a small smirk. “I know, see you next week ony..”

Leaving ony nothing but the memory of you and a mental note to be here waiting for you the next week.

#nysrage works ✭ #black writers #onyankopon x reader #rollerskater!ony au #ony #aot onyankopon #aot x black!reader #aot x chubby reader #onyankapon #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x chubby reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #ony x black reader

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi Rin! I've been reading your writings and I've been having the best fun, thanks you for the hard work! Seeing that you are accepting requests I was wondering if you could do a Minho x reader? (Female if possible but ofc if not that's good too!) With reader having a sweet and caring personality and Minho at the beginning scoffing at her bc he thinks everyone is too soft on them but newt and others commenting of him being hyper aware so they tease him saying he has a crush? And then a scene where he starts developing feels and he's like nonono but there's no way out hehe. Hope you have a very lovely day!

This is so cute!!!!!! Thanks for requesting (and waiting 😭) ❤❤

Got a very teenage vibe from this as I was writing, hence the title

Teenage dream

Minho x fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse, before Thomas)

Notes: this is more of a Minho pov fic? Hope that's ok :))) Kinda switches back to reader at the end though

Warnings: vomit tw, language, reader's drunkness levels change drastically within minutes, ALSO TEENAGE AWKWARDNESS TO THE MAX, I swear Minho has better game in my other fics, he's just a silly sweet guy here lmao

"Light 'em up!"

Minho stands back as the other boys throw their stakes into the bonfire, watching you giggle at their raucous cheers from across the Glade, an involuntary smile rising on his face.

Before long, the party's in full swing; meaning everyone is now yet again horribly, stupidly drunk.

Minho, as usual, has only had a bit of Gally's concoction, and is idly chatting with Ben as he hears a loud crash.

"What the..."

He leaves Ben, jogging over to the scene to see... of course.

It's you, the two-months-in Greenie, and you're sprawled out on the ground in a mess of barrels that have been knocked down, potatoes spilling everywhere.

Your arms are tangled with Newt's- Newt? and you're both laughing, harder than Minho's seen Newt laugh in a while.

"We- the potatoes. The potatoes," Newt manages to say, gasping between cackles.

"Eh. Problem for tomorrow," you sing, extracting yourself from the barrels and potatoes that are now all over the ground.

"Here," says Minho, containing his eyeroll and stepping forward to offer Newt an arm.

"Thanks, man."

Minho tugs Newt up, and yep, he's plastered cause Newt flies up and stumbles forward, crashing into an amused Jeff and nearly sending them both tumbling down.

You stand beside Newt, body folding in laughter as you reach out to grab his arm.

"What's going on?" Alby's voice cuts through the chaos.

You wobble over to him, grabbing one of his hands and clasping it between both of yours in a praying motion. "Sorry, Albs. We'll clean it up in the morning, promise."

"Yeah, you better," says Alby, and his voice is stern but Minho can see the smile reaching his eyes.

What the hell? What happened to their strict leader?

"Thanks, leader man," you say with a grin, patting his chest and giving him a cheesy thumbs up.

Suddenly shouts sound out nearby, and Minho turns to see someone staggering around before turning and throwing up right onto a tabletop.

"Dammit, Ben," mutters Jeff, pinching the bridge of his nose and rushing over.

"Did someone throw up?" Minho hears you ask, before you jog over, veering slightly off to the side as you run.

He sighs and follows you, to where the Gladers are standing around Ben making various ew and gross sounds as if they don't have someone chuck up at least every couple months.

"I ain't cleaning this up for you," Minho tells Ben as he helps him up.

"The whole damn table is gonna stink for months," groans Jeff, looking over the table the Medjacks lent for the bonfire.

"Sorry," mumbles Ben, his words slurring slightly.

"It's alright," you say comfortingly, grabbing a piece of wood you got from god knows where and scraping the stuff into a bin.

"Hey, strong men," you call. "Grab this table and go spray it at the hose."

"Sorry," repeats Ben.

Minho sighs, and shakes his head. "Not your fault you're a lightweight," he says light-heartedly, punching his friend in the arm gently.

He watches as you wash your hands quickly before grabbing a cup of water and bringing it over to Ben.

"Here," you say, handing it to him. "Don't worry, the table's fine. Worst case we'll use it as firewood for next time."

You trip slightly as you step back, and Minho shoots out an arm to grab your waist before he even knows what he's doing. "Alright?" he asks.

You grin, patting his arm. "Guess I'm not as steady as I thought I was."

"Oh really," Minho lifts an eyebrow. "You thought you were steady when you fell into three barrels of potatoes?"

"Ya know, the one time that happens..."

"You mean, just now?"

"Yeah, that one time,"

"Stop with this couples banter," groans Ben. "My head hurts."

"Hungover and drunk at the same time," you say, nodding so sympathetically Minho genuinely can't tell if you're acting or not. "Here, let's get you to bed."

��----⭒

"Every month we manage to top the last month's mess," announces Alby, sitting on a table as he addresses the Gladers, most of whom are still waking up and groaning.

He throws out orders for each group, eyes shut and massaging his temples as he speaks, before he gets to; "Y/n, Newt. Gardeners."

"Minho and I already packed up the potatoes from yesterday," begins Alby, and Minho warms as he feels your eyes on him.

"Some of them were crushed under the barrels," Alby continues. "We lost some supplies."

You bite your lip, looking up nervously. You exchange a glance with Newt, and you're wearing identical guilty expressions.

Alby rolls his eyes. "Like scolded children, both of you. Just get to your jobs, go on."

"Thanks mate," says Newt, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks Alby." You give him a little sheepish smile before leaving.

"I'll check on our leftover supplies," says Newt. "Minho, come with?"

"Wh- sure," says Minho, following behind.

⭒----⭒

"Something on your mind?" asks Newt, shifting some food barrels around.

"You're all too soft on her," mumbles Minho, crossing his arms.

"What's that?"

"You, all of you. With Y/n. You shouldn't be letting her get away with things just cause she smiles, or reward her cause she does one tiny nice thing."

Newt turns around, an amused expression on his face, which is infuriating but also extremely worrying.

"What," snaps Minho.

"Nothing," says Newt, all innocent. "What do you mean 'get away with'?"

"Like just then," says Minho. "She got drunk at the bonfire and made a whole mess, then what? Just flirted her way out of trouble? That's bullshit right there."

"I was with her, I made that mess too."

"You weren't the one who fell into the barrels," Minho fires back.

"And how would you know that? You must've been watching her pretty closely." Newt's full on grinning now, hands on his hips in mock sternness.

Minho deflects. "Whatever, she shouldn't get away with making a mess like that."

"Mate, everyone gets shucking plastered at the bonfires. Don't tell me you've been blind to Zart passing out on the ground every month or how Ben can hardly get through his morning runs."

"I mean, yeah, but people don't knock whole barrels of crop over."

"Winston damn near fell into the fire last month."

"That's different," insists Minho.

"Fine," says Newt, sighing. "Can we go back to when you said she flirts her way out of trouble?"

Minho freezes. "...what?"

"Go on then," says Newt, grin stretching on his face. "What'd you mean?"

Minho averts his gaze, uncharacteristically conflicted. "Ya know, just like... how she had her hands all over Alby last night, when he should've been yelling at her or something."

Newt raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at Minho. "What, did you want her to get in trouble?"

"No! Of course not," protests Minho. "Just- in general, it's not fair. To flirt like that and... you know," he finishes weakly.

"That's not flirting mate, she's just an affectionate drunk."

"Yeah... Whatever."

"You know," begins Newt. "One of these days you'll understand, and the rest of us'll be here, laughing our damn asses off at you."

Minho scrunches up his face, confused.

Newt laughs, tossing an arm around his friend. "Give it time, you'll get it."

⭒----⭒

It's a month later, after the next bonfire, that someone finally has the courage to tell it straight to Minho.

" -and people think she's like, the greatest soul to bless the Glade. It's stupid. The other day, she helped Gally carry something, ya know, cause his shoulder was shucked, and I swear, the whole of the Builders had stars in their eyes." Minho huffs, rolling his eyes.

"And," he continues. "She looks after Greenies like they're incapable of walking. Then suddenly everyone loves her?"

"Everyone loves Newt," Ben points out. "Why aren't you getting all pissed about him?"

"I'm not pissed," argues Minho. "I'm just observing... stating. People give her credit for just being a vaguely decent human being."

"Minho. You sound insane. You're literally listing good things, and twisting them into... whatever bullshit point you're trying to make."

Ben continues. "Y/n is a decent human being. She's kind, caring, better than the rest of us assholes at accommodating the newbies. She helps people out. Is that so bad?"

"I mean, no... but-,"

"But nothing!" interrupts Ben. "Why are you so obsessed, anyway? Haven't you given some thought into why you're hyperaware of her every move?"

"Oi! Are you telling him?" Newt's voice rings out from across the empty dining hall.

"Yes," says Ben, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cause this is exhausting."

"Shuckin' finally," says Newt, clapping Ben on the shoulder as he slides into the bench beside him. "Someone needed to do it soon."

"What," snaps Minho.

"You have a crush," says Ben, tugging on his hair exasperatedly. "A stupid schoolyard crush- which I don't even have memory of, but you're just so-"

"What Ben is trying to say," interrupts Newt. "Is that you like Y/n."

"What? No, I-"

"And," Ben cuts in. "Somewhere in that thick head of yours, your lovey-dovey feelings are fighting with your denial and causing this." He gestures vaguely towards Minho.

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorts Minho.

"Of course not," says Ben flatly. "But now that we've told you, it should only be a matter of time."

"I mean..." Newt struggles for a second, before giving up, shoulders sagging. "Yeah, Ben's summed it up pretty well."

⭒----⭒

A crush? There's no way. Minho frowns to himself, lost in thought as he walks out of the shower block.

The Glade is in the best time of the day right now. It's when everyone's wrapping up the day's work and hitting the showers, before waiting around for dinner.

Minho's showered early today, so the dining area just has a few people idly sitting around chatting. He nods at Newt, who makes eye contact with him across the dining area and starts walking over.

Newt stops though, as someone else slides into the bench across from Minho. It's you.

Minho widens his eyes at Newt, who simply grins and turns to sit somewhere else.

Fine. Minho sighs internally, turning to you. "Y/n, hey."

"Hey," you greet, flicking your hair back. You've got a small towel resting on your shoulders to keep your clothes dry while your hair's still wet. Minho notes this information for no particular reason.

"Listen," you say, leaning forward intently. Pretty. The thought crosses Minho's mind without his consent. You look clean, fresh out of the shower, sunset casting your face in a warm glow. Nope, no way this is happening.

"Uh Minho, ya with me?"

" 'course," he responds quickly. "What's up?"

You grin, clearly seeing through him, but you continue anyway. "So, Ben tells me the forest around the Runners' hut is really pretty. Flowers and all. Is that true?"

"Yeah," says Minho. "The pond is nice too."

You hum, nodding in thought. "Take me sometime?"

"Yeah, sure," says Minho.

You know what, shuck it.

"Do you wanna go now?" he offers, resolve clicking inside him.

Minho's heart picks up at your smile, beaming at him. "Yeah, let's go."

⭒----⭒

"I can't believe you've never been here," says Minho, standing with his hands in his pockets as you wander around the forest.

"I can't believe no one ever brought me here," you reply. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah..." He trails off, watching you bend and smile at some purple orchids. "...beautiful." Fuck.

"Can I be honest with you, Minho?" he hears you ask.

"Of course," he responds, leaning on a tree.

"I was kinda worried," you begin, still looking down at the orchids. "That you didn't like me, or something."

Minho's eyebrows fly up. "Wh-"

"I just- I wanted to clear it up. Cause you seem like a cool person, and I'd like for us to be... friends." You sound uncertain, and Minho feels like an absolute shit.

"No!" As your head whips up, he hastily continues, "I mean, yes, of course, just-"

He groans. "It's my fault, I'm just- I was stupid. An idiot, actually. I've been-"

You've got a confused expression as Minho huffs out a frustrated sigh. "It wasn't anything like... what you're thinking. I just had some other feelings- thoughts, in the way. And I guess it came off like I didn't like you. But I do. I like you a lot," he admits.

You let out a soft laugh. "I'm glad. I didn't want it to be," you gesture vaguely. "Ya know."

Minho smiles, and seems to shake himself slightly, nodding towards a tree near the Runner's hut. "Come check out these ones."

He leads you to a tree with white flowers peeking through the leaves.

"Hey, Minho."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you mean 'other feelings'?"

Um. "What?" He asks nervously.

"You said there were 'other feelings' in the way. What did that mean?"

"Just... in general," he says weakly. "Feelings, thoughts. Etcetera."

You frown slightly at him, confused, but you're distracted as he reaches up to the tree.

"These're Ben's pride and joy," he says idly, plucking one of the flowers. "A damn pain to grow at first, but now they just bloom on their own."

You swallow as he turns to you, holding up the flower.

"Here."

Your heart beats fast as he steps into your space, and tucks the flower into your hair, behind your ear.

Neither of you move. Minho's hand is still hovering at your cheek, your face tilted up to meet his eyes, open and earnest.

Oh. Oh.

You break first, ducking your head down. "So, uh-"

"Yeah," says Minho, hand rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

He takes a deep breath. "So I, uh- I don't know what I'm doing, like... at all. Ya know, Ben and Newt had to sit me down and... whatever. I just- I like you," he confesses in a rush. "And I know I've done a shucked job of showing it, but I really, really like you."

You huff out a laugh, incredulous. "Minho, I like you too. That's mostly why I wanted to get closer to you."

"Oh," says Minho. "Well... do you think we could go on a date sometime? Maybe here, with the flowers. We could do dinner?"

You smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great," says Minho, grinning in a way he knows looks stupid (he doesn't care). "Cool.

"I guess we should be getting back, then." Minho gestures back to where the Glade is probably eating dinner now.

"Yeah," you agree, starting off behind him.

"Minho?" He turns at your voice, looking down at the hand you've extended, palm-up.

As he puts his arm out in the same way, slightly confused, you slip your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. You see his wide grin as you glance to your side.

"Hey, Y/n, think that date can be tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely."

Went full teenager throwback for this one - the awkwardness is tangible

Thanks for reading <3 Requests are open as always :)

#the maze runner #minho x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr minho #my writing

[overwatchfics]

i saw youre doing requests! can i request dating headcanons where y/n is a blackwatch agent also dating a fellow blackwatch agent (genji, cass, moira, and reaper)? tia! <3

Blackwatch Dating HC's

Already did Cassidy's so just the rest of Blackwatch.

Genji

Not at his healthiest, but God damn his angstiness is kinda hot for you.

While he is focused on vengeance against his brother, you manage to pull him out of it or you help him vent and vow to help him out.

Genji really appreciates the gesture

When Genji is off of his vengeful Shimada bs he'd love to take you to the arcade, an old past time of his.

He's not really in it for playing to win anymore he just likes seeing the smile on your face when you're playing with him.

Anything to tear him away from his Blackwatch work.

If your a electrical engineer of any kind hell occasionally let you mess with the lighting on his body

You totally didn't use his body as a disco ball while blasting funk nope

When it's just the two of you in a private place, he shows his love through physical touch

Genji likes to cradle your face and lightly graze his thumbs across your skin

If you're lucky he might take off his mask and ask to kiss you

You're going to have to be real patient with him, after his murder he's real insecure about his being as a cyborg.

If he does kiss you he's gentle, he has a feral side that wants to go all put, but around you he wants to savor the moment and keep you there in his arms.

As far as dinners go, he doesn't really eat much... not much left of a body to sustain anyways, but he'll be more than happy to help you cook!

He's great with a knife, doesn't have to worry about nicking himself.

In the bed, Genji's a cuddler. He is semi-emberassed about it. He falls asleep on his side and wake up wrapped around you.

I liken Genji to a cat, he just rubs up against you trying to get some affection and cuddles he's too scared to ask for.

If you two are on missions together, he sticks by you, no arguments and everyone on the team knows this. Not even Commander Reyes can separate the two of you.

After long missions spent apart Genji shows up at your room or vice versa but no matter you hell take you into his arms and press his head against your shoulder.

He fears losing you as he has lost himself.

Moira

Listen, you have to be into science if you're going to roll with Moira.

Since you're a science person or an agent who operates in the science division you can expect to be working with Moira a lot

While she won't experiment on you (unless you ask) she'll ask for your participation in helping her with an experiment and analysis.

You both know it's hard to find time for either of you to go out together, so the best time for dates is unsurpsingly in the lab.

Moira will gladly do a couple silly experiments to keep moral high with various experiment such as giving a rabbit a pair of human arms, exploding goop, and some stuff they probably belongs in Area 51.

After it's been in exhausting day you two will find it easier to just walk over to whoevers room is the closest and crash there. Not before before pulling you close and kissing you. Moira looks into your eyes and wonders how you can put up with her insanity.

Blanket hugger I swear, she's not even ashamed about it

She also has the coldest feet she's so tall most blankets won't cover her completely.

Hope you don't mind being Moira's little space heater, she'll leech your warmth.

Has all of her limbs wrapped around you kind of like a spider

Loves you more than she'll ever admit.

If you're out on the field, you can bet sharing notes and observations is a must.

Since you're same department you two get to stick together

Gabriel (Commander Reyes)

Big man, soft heart.

It's lonely at the top and he loves when you drag him out of the base to do stuff.

Gabriel loves to go to the movies, horror and comedy in particular

Also gives him an excuse to have you hold his hand during some scary parts

Also adores glancing at you laughing at some dumb scene in a comedy

Always brings his heavy gray hoodie and has you wear it if the theater gets to cold. Gabe always manages to grab a picture of you in it and set it as his screen saver.

Type of man to take you out to dinner afterward, and refuses to let go of your hand.

On base you can hang with him in his room, since he's Commander his accomadations are nicer than yours.

He has a heated blanket and you can't find the heart to tell him no when he asks you if you want to cuddle with him.

Gabriel is a big man, but the way he holds you is unmatched to anyone else

He is gentle with his touch and likes to rest you on top of his chest.

His heartbeat puts you at ease and sleep finds you easier than normal.

On missions with him, it's common to get separated since he's Commander there are times where he works from a computer to strategize in comms. But the few times he's on the field you two are a force of nature.

Unstoppable really.

After long missions apart, Gabriel searches for you and when he find you he pulls you into a searing kiss and lifts you up, smiling with tears in his eyes tha you're ok.

With his warm hand in yours, tomorrow is a new day and any day with Gabe is a good day.

A/N: I already did Cassidy's for dating HC's so I did the other homies of black watch. I'm going to sleep now but I'll update the master list tomorrow.

Have a request? Drop it in the request box and be sure to check the rules!

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch2 #reaper #gabriel reyes #reaper x reader #moira o'deorain #moira x reader #genji shimada #genji x reader #blackwatch #overwatch imagine

[thebigbiwolf]

Starvin', Darlin' - Chapter 1

Pairing: Not quite friends to lovers Astarion x OC/F!Tav

Chapter Summary: Astarion knows his power is waning, and seducing their leader Evelyn has gone poorly at best. If he is to keep himself in the tiefling's good graces, he's left with no other options. He must drink from a thinking creature.

Everything goes according to plan... until it doesn't.

Fic Tags: Minor spoilers for Act 1, The Bite Scene, Emotional slow burn, Angst, Teasing, Frottage (god I'm sorry), Pining, This is my first ever fic so idk how to tag things appropriately but you get the gist.

Fic Warnings: Eventual Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon (I cannot stress this enough), Bloodlust/Loss of control, Mentions of blood, lmk if you need anything else tagged.

Word Count: 6.1k

Read on Ao3: Here

A/N: I started this as a way to get this fruity fuck out of my head but I think I just made the situation worse. If you know me, no you don't. If you've followed me for a long time, sorry in advance. I may make this a mini-series depending on time and reception, but we'll see! OC is a rogue who seduces men to gain their favor but we'll get to that in later chapters.

Astarion's trance did not come easily that night; his hunger manifesting as a throbbing headache that refused to subside. It had been hours of tossing and turning in his tent, willing his body to settle, forcing himself to ruminate on the past few weeks.

Before he joined this disgustingly merry little group of adventurers, hunting rabbits and the occasional boar had been enough to sustain him. In fact, dining on larger animals had been a significant upgrade from the meager flies and rats he’d become so accustomed to under his master’s rule, but that was before all of this incessant hard labor. 

He could feel his strength waning over the last several days. His senses were dulling, his reflexes numbed. Just this morning, he had failed to gain the upper hand with a particularly nasty kobold. He paid for it dearly when the damned thing all but pummeled him into the ground. 

Luckily, Lae’zel had been there, hammer at the ready to divorce its jaw from its head. Beautifully done, by the way, but his blunder did not go unnoticed. All this sneaking around for barely a nibble during his watch was beginning to take its toll.

Astarion knew he was on thin ice, considering his relationship with their fearless, incomparable leader began with him pulling a knife on her and grappling her to the ground -  in front of the damn wizard, no less. Some friction was to be expected.

But things hadn’t progressed much between the two of them since then. The pair rarely saw eye to eye on anything, and she seemed to have an innate passion for berating him over his unwillingness to stop for every single injured bird or helpless child as they traveled - as if playing the part of a hero was a favorable distraction from the literal time bomb in both their party and their heads. 

“The world is full of potential allies, Astarion,” she had told him, sprinkled with a hint of her usual irritation. “I’m simply expanding our network.” As if a group of starving refugees and mud-slinging tree huggers were going to find them a decent healer any sooner. At this point, he’d heavily considered taking his chances with the goblins. At least they knew how to have fun.

What made matters even more frustrating was that Evelyn was seemingly unaffected by his charms.

Just how exactly was he supposed to secure his place under her protection when the woman barely spared him a second glance? Surely he wasn’t losing his touch. He was a master of seduction. Thousands of others had thrown themselves at his feet for far less effort. He’s had centuries of practice. The mere notion would be ridiculous.

In fact, he couldn’t remember a single moment in the last two hundred years where his advances had been so callously brushed off. Every attempt to make her laugh with his (admittedly morbid) quips was met with her chastising him for being insensitive and making threats to send him back to camp. She dismissed every flirtation, even if her lovely little blush betrayed her. She seemed determined to make him play her little game. He just hasn’t quite figured out what the rules are, yet.

Astarion couldn’t afford to take any more chances. If sleeping his way into her good graces wasn't an option, he was left with little choice. He wanted to make himself indispensable, so he was going to have to take drastic measures to ensure that his strength and physical prowess would never come into question. At least, not again.

He would have to drink from a thinking creature.

The idea of it was as invigorating as it was terrifying. He had spent the last two centuries enduring unimaginable cruelty, starved in ways mortals couldn’t begin to imagine--for years--without any reprieve. 

No, starving doesn’t even scratch the surface. No words could ever describe the tortuous, gnawing, ravenous hunger that consumed his every waking moment under the heavy weight of Cazador’s boot.

Though, Cazador wasn’t here now, was he? 

Curious.

Astarion had spent some time ruminating on who to approach before settling on Evelyn, though his options were limited at best. The githyanki was entirely out of the question; gods forbid he get caught, she would make quick work of him without allowing him so much as a single word of explanation. Shadowheart was…tempting, but that mark on her hand frequently caused her pain, and who knows if that magic would have any affect on him or worse, her taste? And Gale, well, he would rather subsist on a diet of garlic sprinkled with holy water before he put his lips anywhere near that man.

So, Evelyn it was. The tiefling wasn't terrible to look at. She was a younger woman full of vitality, so surely she wouldn’t miss a bit of her blood. He would just have to mind the horns. 

He would be in and out. A quick nibble, then he'd be right as rain. One bite, he tells himself, barely enough to leave a mark. Then, he’ll pass it off and say that they had been attacked by bats during his watch and, not wanting to wake everyone, he quietly dispatched them and saved the day. Unfortunately, not before one of those wretched little beasts managed to puncture their illustrious hero. It was the perfect plan. Infallible. They'll eat it right up.

He continues passing through camp undetected, catlike in his silence, but when he reaches the canvas entrance of her tent ready to pounce, he freezes at the sight of her.

She looked…different while she slept. Softer, gentler, almost; surrounded by a nest of fur blankets, snoozing away instead of attacking his ego. Her hair was puddled beneath her head and horns like dark, red wine; rich and unrestrained by her usual loose bun. 

Another realization hits him: this is the first time Astarion has ever seen her in her sleep clothes, a simple basic black wrapping across her breasts. Practical. Of course.

Her skin is pale enough to rival his own, even with the warmth of the firelight. She’s lying on her side, her uncovered shoulder lightly dusted in freckles, much like her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, and in the silence of the night air, he can hear her light, even breaths.

Cute, he thinks to himself. He could almost forgive her for being so maddeningly aloof with a face like that. Almost. 

Astarion leans over to brush her hair away from her neck; the strands softer than he had anticipated. The thrum of her pulse underneath is magnetic. It pulls at his very being, beckoning him closer.

Settling on his knees beside her, his arms form a cage around her body.

He takes in the image of her form one last time and allows himself a moment to savor it. She is toned and lithe, much like himself, but smaller. Perfect. Delectable. 

He bends closer, feeling her gentle puffs of breath on his shoulder; the warmth of her body. His ears ring with anticipation; manicured nails clench the sheets by her head.

She’s going to be so-

Something brushes his leg, hidden beneath the furs.

Her tail. He forgot about her bloody tail.

Evelyn stirs, and fully awakens right as his teeth are at her throat, eyes meeting his. 

Shit.

“Shit.”

With incredible speed, she reflexively reaches for the dagger closest to her pillow, lunging at him. He just barely seizes her arm in time to save himself from being skewered.

“What in the hells are you-” he clasps his palm over her mouth to silence her.

The girl’s eyes are wild with panic, their golden hues burning a hole in his skull. He notices them flit down to where his body hovers over hers before she begins to struggle against him. “No, no, shh,” he whispers. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” 

Her expression shifts from panicked to confused. She ceases her squirming. Good. Well, not good, but better. He can work with this.

“When I take my hand away, you have to promise not to scream and wake the whole camp,” he continues, hushed, “unless you’d like for them to find us tangled up in your bedroll. You wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression now, would you, darling?”

Her eyes widen. Her face flushes deep red, warming his palm against her skin.

There, he thinks, that should-

Her body turns, and suddenly he feels the hard edge of Evelyn’s knee make contact with the corner of his ribs. A direct hit. Pain shoots up his chest as he rolls off of her and onto his side, clutching himself and coughing, heaving air back into his lungs.

She hurriedly covers herself with her sheets, glaring at him as he struggles to collect his breath. He can see her fuming through the tears forming in the corner of his vision. If looks could kill, he’s sure she would have him skinned alive. Maybe use what's left of him to scare away the crows. 

She’s still holding the knife out toward him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing in here?” 

A fair question, one he was not prepared to answer. Perfect. He’s just going to have to wing this. Possibly with two broken ribs. He can’t believe he expected this to go any smoother.

“I-I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He raises a hand and falls back on his thighs with a grunt, grimacing in pain. His other clutches his side, a bit of sweat forming at his brow. “I just…” 

Okay, this is it. He’s got this.

“I just needed, well,” 

Aaaaand,

“Blood.”

There. Excellent form, Astarion. Good show.

“I - You needed what?”

She blinks at him, whether in disbelief or shock, he cannot say.

It takes a moment before his words start to sink in. She takes that time to scan over his body, purposefully. 

He couldn’t quite tell if she was looking for something or if she was deciding whether or not to believe him, but then again, what other explanation could he give? 

He works over his options in his head, considering just how difficult it would be to pass this all off as a terrible joke, but just as he’s about to open his mouth to start on damage control, he hears Evelyn heave a deep sigh. She lowers her weapon, then tosses it to the side, massaging her eyes in frustration. 

Oh. Well, alright.

After some time, he watches her expression soften into understanding as a few notable things dawn on her. He’s never really eaten any meals with them, has he? Then there was the drained boar, which he so carelessly left out by the road.  The damned beast hadn’t even taken the edge off that night, and he was so desperate to quell the nagging ache in his stomach that it lay there forgotten until she found it the next morning. He admitted to her himself that it had been drained by a vampire, after all…

A bit of silence follows.

Astarion doesn’t say a word, doesn’t dare move a muscle. He just allows her the time to process whatever she’s feeling. What’s important is that he’s still alive, she hasn't run him out of camp, and she hasn’t screamed for help. 

He may be able to salvage this, yet.

She scratches the back of her head, carding her fingers through her hair to ease her irritation before finally meeting his gaze.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name leaving her lips pulls him from his thoughts. He can see the disappointment on her soft features just as plainly as he can feel it humming through their psionic link. 

He didn’t think himself capable of guilt, but there was an emotion akin to it brewing within his chest. Ugh. He breaks eye contact, searching for anything to pull his attention away from his discomfort. The miscellaneous bags of clothing and trinkets she had scattered about her tent were just oh so fascinating. And was that a new hairbrush? Hm. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He’s taken aback by her question. He expected a more offensive reaction. A few insults, maybe ones pertaining to his sharp teeth or bloodlust, but an olive branch?

After all the lies, the invasion of privacy, and the failed attempt at assault?

She really is just full of surprises.

“Well, we aren’t exactly close, you and I. Though, you must admit, I’ve made several attempts to…” He waves a hand between them for emphasis, “mend the gap, so to speak.”

“Well, have you ever considered maybe not being such an asshole?”

Ouch.

But in fairness, no.

“I…” He thinks carefully about what to say next. The buzzing behind his eye socket acts as a threat, reminding him of the very fragile barrier between their minds. Should she choose to dig her claws in and pry the information out of him, she may find more than he's comfortable sharing, so Astarion makes a decision that surprises even himself. 

He chooses to be genuine.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He gestures towards the dagger at her side. “But believe me, I’m not some monster. I’ve never killed another person.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, not for food,” he quickly corrects. “I’ve been subsisting on animals. Boars—like the one you found the other day—deer, kobolds, whatever I can get my hands on.”

“And what exactly was the plan here? You were just going to kill me and expect the others not to notice?” 

He recoils at the accusation but fights to keep his expression neutral. “I had no intention of killing you. I would never do such a thing.” He leans in closer to her and lowers his voice, as if letting her in on a secret. “We need each other.” 

Evelyn shifts to lean her weight on her arm as she listens, dark hair falling to the side of her shoulder. With the new level of exposure, he can hear her pulse settling into a more comfortable rhythm. 

He swallows. Hard. His hunger is rearing its ugly head again, just at the sound of her.

Oh well, might as well lay all the cards out on the table while we’re at it.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and continues, “As it stands right now, I’m too slow. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” There is a question hidden in his words, a favor to be asked.

She seems pensive as she considers him, mulling over everything he’s said in her mind. She lifts a thumb to her mouth and starts nibbling on her nail, no longer looking at him. Nervous too, no doubt. How could she not be with what he’s asking of her, as if he had any right to ask in the first place? 

“I understand you detest me, but-”

Evelyn appears to snap to some conclusion, sitting up straighter and placing her arms to her sides before she responds.

“No, I should detest you, Astarion, but I don’t. You just don’t impress me.”

Wow.

It feels as though he’s been slapped. He barks out a laugh that’s a bit too loud for the intimate setting, trying to mitigate the damage to his ego. “Excuse me?”

She has the nerve to shrug at him. “I’ve seen every trick you’ve used to fill your little black book, probably a thousand items over. I’ve used them all myself. So, frankly, I'm uninspired.”

For the first time in his undead life, he’s totally speechless. His face contorts in indignation, disbelief. This devil.

There is something dangerous in her expression as she leans further forward, neck tilted, exposing herself to him. Her eyes are hooded, with long lashes casting shadows over her cheeks. Her shoulders relax as she lifts her chin to stare down her nose at him, sneering. 

He works his jaw, clenching the muscles unconsciously.

“Astarion, men are idiots. I’ve spent my entire adult life toying with them and robbing them blind. I’ve heard and seen it all. You really believed a few empty praises and mediocre jokes would have me jumping into bed with you? 

Wha- Mediocre?

He opens his mouth with every intention of retaliating, but Evelyn’s palm unexpectedly rests itself on his calf, and the action stuns him into silence. She begins leisurely dragging her nails up towards his thigh. 

His body responds involuntarily; eagerly, frustratingly, the delicate little motion leaving his skin prickling with excitement. 

She regards his chest, admiring the hard planes of muscle. Then, her attention slowly inches down the toned curve of his abs until, finally, they stop at where his cock hardens disobediently beneath his pants.

“Your pretty face doesn’t detract from the fact that you’re still just a man.”

It finally clicks.

She’s baiting him, attempting to get a rise out of him. 

Hm. Impressive.

Normally, at this point in her little game, he assumes most men would take her flirtations at face value. They would likely mistake this performance as an enthusiastic plea to bed her, but Astarion is not like most men. He sees her little game for what it is and recognizes it with ease because he has spent lifetimes playing it himself.

She leans back, satisfied with her little show, and smirks at him.

“So, you admit I have a pretty face?” He teases, his own smile twisting, becoming more mischievous.

She rolls her eyes, but this time she laughs. It’s a soft sound, genuine.

A pinkish hue crawls up her face and paints the tips of her pointed ears, but he can’t discern if that's supposed to be part of the act or, more likely, an unfortunate side-effect of the living experience. He’s finding it hard not to admire her dedication, regardless. 

Well, that’s quite enough of that. Back to business, then.

“It’s settled,” Astarion clasps his hands together, “I’ll just need to impress you with my more eclectic talents if I am to earn your favor. We can start by gracefully slaughtering a few goblins, depending on how the rest of tonight goes. Which is entirely up to you, of course.”

The tiefling squints at him. “Oh no, if you want something from me, darling, you’re going to have to ask politely. With manners. You have those, don’t you? Familiar with them, at least?”

Under normal circumstances, he would find this amusing; nothing like a little role reversal to spice up the evening. But this feels different, heavier, as if her feigning indifference will alleviate the weight of what he's asking of her.

Fine. He supposes relinquishing a little bit of his pride is a fair price to pay.

He takes a deep breath. "Please." 

"Please, what?" She lifts an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Come on, Astarion. Use your words. I know you’re quite fond of them."

He scoffs at her shamelessness, and for a moment, he honestly considers whether this is worth it, but he can't back out now. He'll make it through this, surely. He's been through worse. 

Through gritted teeth, he barely spits out, "Please, may I drink from you?" 

Gods. He's going to be sick.

"Good boy. That wasn't so hard, was it?" 

He’s going to fucking kill her.

There is an uncomfortable silence that follows. So many unspoken questions and a rising suspense that makes Evelyn adjust herself uncomfortably where she sits. Astarion is also musing to himself, still wondering how it's all come to this. Why did he choose her, again? Something about her not killing him right away? Death may have been preferable to this, actually, but he is pulled back to reality when she finally speaks up.

“So," she's picking lint off one of her pillows, avoiding his gaze as she asks, "how exactly should we do this?”

Well, it occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know. He understands the mechanics behind it, of course, but how exactly were they supposed to go about this?

Should he tell her that he’s never actually fed from a person before? Would it make her more or less comfortable to know that he’s just as clueless about this as she is? 

No. He decides against it. Astarion has always done best when he’s playing the role of the confident seductor. This should be no different. He’ll just treat this as if he’s bedding a virgin: guide her, take things slow, and she’ll no doubt be begging him for more soon enough. It’ll be easy. All she has to do is behave.

“Lie back and get comfortable.”

He moves himself closer to her, settling at her side as she does what she’s told. The flap of the tent remains open, letting in the faintest amount of warmth and illuminating Evelyn’s features. With such close proximity, he can see the gold flames within her irises flickering and dancing, a genetic trait attributed to some luckier members of her race, and a feature of her’s that Astarion would have never otherwise noticed. 

He can hear her pulse quickening as he closes the space between them, lifting himself a bit to settle above her, once again caging her between his arms. One of his knees parts her legs, and he can tell in the quietness of her tent that she’s struggling to hide her uneven breaths. Her stare is intense, but he can’t read the meaning behind it.

He decides to give her another out, just in case. Better safe than sorry. 

“We don't have to do this, you know,” his voice is composed, as if his body wasn't currently screaming with anticipation. “I appreciate the consideration, regardless.” 

“I’m fine.” Her response is clipped, dismissive. Her face remains stoic though her fingers fidget with the blankets at her sides. She had moved the furs to give him better access to her body. The darkness inside him preens at the concept.

Best get on with it, then.

He leans down and, unable to help himself, takes in the scent of her: woodsmoke and the faintest hint of vanilla, which he had watched her pick up from a merchant in the grove just the other day. “For Gale’s cooking,” she amended, when he gave her a questioning look.

He gives her one more moment to stop him.

She doesn’t.

A bit of pressure on the skin before it snaps and gives way, his fangs finally sinking into her. He can feel Evelyn’s body tense at the sudden intrusion. She hisses through gritted teeth, her arms involuntarily raising at her sides, reaching for him, but she stops herself before she touches him. He wants to tell her it's fine, expected, even, the need to ground herself, but all of his higher thoughts are plunged into complete chaos when he finally registers her taste. 

Every cell in his body awakens.

The iron flavor of her floods his throat and sets his nerves ablaze. Its heat fills, expands, and splits every crack in his self control into deep, cavernous fissures. 

A groan escapes Astarions throat before he has the chance to quell it. Of course it would be like this - drinking from a thinking creature. Drinking from her. He understands now why Cazador forbade this. Before, he had assumed it was a matter of keeping his spawn weak and compliant, but this was entirely different. This was far more than a method of control. The bastard had been withholding ecstasy greater than he’d ever known.

A feeling swells in him, crashing like waves through his veins. Warmth. It invades him and fills every fiber of his being. He wasn’t naive enough to believe his first time wouldn't have some sort of great, emotional impact, but this? 

This was everything. How was he ever supposed to come back from this?

"Agh - Astarion," he barely registers her pathetic little whine through the haze. She finally allows herself to grab onto him, the loose sleeve of his nightshirt tightening in her fist. For purchase, he tells himself with what little is left of his consciousness, practical. That is until he lowers himself fully onto her in an attempt to relieve the strain on his biceps.

With no space left between their bodies, he doesn’t anticipate the blazing heat of her core on his thigh, even through the several layers of clothing. She gasps at the sudden pressure,  fingers twitching, nails digging little crescent shapes into his skin. What surprises him most, though, is when the taste in his mouth melts into a flavor so much sweeter. 

Something primal within him recognizes it instantly; it twists in his gut and sits there heavily, as if the emotion were his own: arousal.

Oh.

She is burning for him.

Good.

After all of that teasing, the woman he’s spent weeks enduring endless lectures from actually does desire him, or at the very least desires his body. Which is just as favorable, in his opinion. It’s just nice to know all his hard work hasn’t gone to waste. 

If she lets him live, he's going to spend every waking moment tormenting her over this. His lips vibrate against her skin as he chuckles to himself, causing some of her blood to run down his chin in hot rivulets, blooming new stains onto her sheets. 

He knows he’s had enough. He means to let go, he truly does, lest he end up draining their groups' only hope of survival. Surely that wouldn't go over well with their companions. Pitchforks, and all that. 

But her whimpering, her heat, coupled with the ferocity of his hunger, all provoke a feeling that has been building beneath the surface which he’s unable to name; it's desperate and possessive, a predator guarding its kill from hungry scavengers. The monster in him casts a dark shadow over his mind as he feeds. His body no longer feels as though it is his own, betraying him; a slave to the demands of his appetite. 

He needs her, needs all of her, and he cannot will himself to stop, too lost in sensation and the sound of her mewling to bow to his higher thinking. 

He mindlessly rocks his weight into her and grunts—a slow, unintentional grind against her mound. The motion comes easy to him, like breathing - instinctual. The blunt edge of his clothed cock drags deliciously through her parted thighs. Evelyn’s breath hitches at the feeling, her squirming beneath him giving him the sickest form of satisfaction, but the animal within him demands her compliance.

His hand gathers her loose hair and pulls, growling, warning her to keep still. She whines at the force, back arching. The other grabs her arm, pinning it down, and tightens, thumb gently stroking against her wrist.

"Astarion,"

She’s no doubt making a mess in her smallclothes as she quivers beneath him, all flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. She may deny it later, but her taste tells him everything he needs to know.

Her body is burning against his cool skin, and her gasps are only spurring him on. He laps at the wound, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat, indulging himself in her. It's too much. 

He feels her pulse weakening, her rhythm slowing.

It isn't enough. 

He's about to latch on to her again, teeth at the ready and blinded by his eagerness, when he suddenly feels a piercing sensation behind his eye - the tadpole, he assumes, writhing in panic. Screeching at him to open himself to it. The discomfort is just enough to pull him back into his body. Then Evelyn's voice invades his mind. 

‘Astarion, enough!’

He disentangles his limbs from hers, practically jumping off of the poor woman. He’s gasping for breath as he comes to his senses, the mix of her blood and his saliva staining his lips pink. It dribbles down his chin. He wipes his face with the back of his knuckles and licks them clean.

But then, the cold realization of what he’s done is thrust upon him like a bucket of iced water, shocking him back to the present. He’s going to need to come up with one hell of an apology to get himself out of this one. Or maybe he should just run? Baldur’s Gate is really only a few weeks travel at most. 

“Shit,” he whispers, more to himself than to her. "Are you alright, dear?"

Evelyn's eyes meet his. Her pupils are blown, almost entirely overtaking the gold of her irises when she glances away from him to assess the damage.

"Gods damn it," she quietly groans and applies pressure to the wound, thankfully finding that it isn't too deep or particularly painful. She tends to it, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her brow. She searches for a rag as she avoids his concerned stare

A deep purple bruise spreads across her pale skin. Small red droplets trickle down the length of her nape, dampening her black breast band before soaking into it and disappearing entirely. He collects himself, willing his mind to cease its incessant urge to lick the damned liquid from her neck. She is flushed and sweating, unbalanced, panting from exertion as much as her own embarrassment. Her dark hair is a tangled mess from his attention. She looks ravaged. 

It… suits her.

Astarion clears his throat, trying his best not to get caught admiring his handiwork.

She was right about one thing. He was, at least in some respects, just a man... 

“Here,” he insists, grabbing one of the smaller furs and holding it up to her. She takes it from him without acknowledgement.

“I -” He begins, but he’s at a loss for words. What does one say in this situation? ‘My sincerest apologies. I don’t know what came over me! I must have gotten swept up in the moment!’ as if that pitiful excuse would overshadow the fact that he manhandled and almost devoured her.

He wants to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat.

He begins to worry that she really may not forgive him. He fears she'll wake the whole camp, or maybe finally cast him out like the monster he is. He wouldn't blame her. She took a great leap of faith in trusting him with this, and he rutted against her like some horny bugbear. Or worse, a teenager, he sneers.

Evelyn pulls the rabbit skin away from her neck, examining it. The brown hairs are matted and crimson, but the bleeding has stopped. She runs her fingers over the puncture marks, feeling the skin dip slightly where his fangs pierced her. She sighs with resignation, surely thinking about how the others will approach her with a plethora of questions tomorrow morning, face reddening at the idea.

“You could have warned me, you know.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize I was agreeing to…all of that.” 

His heart sinks. 

Of course she thinks it was on purpose. I mean, look at him. He’s all but thrown himself at her since the moment they met. He’s spent this entire time playing the part of the rake. It's only natural she assumes the worst.

“Evelyn, darling,” speaking her name aloud brings her focus back onto him. 

The gravity of it is suffocating, condensing the already small space they shared. The tension pulls at something undefinable within him that he thought was long dead—a sincerity that betrays the character he’s been crafting for as long as he can remember. 

It sways him.

More truths to forgive more transgressions, then. A fair transaction.

“I’ve had this condition for over two centuries, but, truth be told,” he clears his throat again, because ugh this is awful. And why does she have to stare at him like that, with her earnest, wet eyes? “You were my first. I’ve only ever fed on beasts.” 

The implication is there: how could he have known?

His confession takes her by surprise. “You don’t…” she pauses, taking everything that transpired tonight into consideration. He must be giving her a look akin to pleading, because she takes mercy on him and disregards whatever question she was about to ask. 

“Please tell me you didn’t do that to the boar.”

Seriously, a joke?

He barks out a laugh before he can stifle it. Whether it's from the sheer ridiculousness of the question or the disbelief towards her acceptance of it all, he truly doesn’t know.

“No, my dear. Just you, and you were delectable.”

Her expression is difficult to read. She’s not looking at him; refuses to, when she replies, “So then, did it work?”

Astarion moves to stand, peering down at her form. He exhales in relief, feeling as though he is a century younger. His muscles are lax; all the stress has been drained from his body. A novel experience. “Yes, I would say so. I feel stronger. My mind is clear. I feel…happy.”

He adds the last word in an effort to appease her, but it does ring true. His main source of joy since he contracted this affliction has been causing others pain, ripping out throats and such. This feels distinctly different, less exhilarating, but pleasant all the same.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you fight.” 

He acknowledges her, then stretches his back out, extending his arms to the sky with his hands clasping behind his head. The motion pulls the rest of his nightshirt out of his trousers and tugs it upward, exposing the hard edges of his hips. He can’t confirm it, but he swears he sees her eyes flit quickly towards them before making an expeditious retreat.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” He lifts the flap of her tent to peek outside. No sign of anyone stirring, and the night is still young. Knowing the wildlife in this area, he may still have a chance to sate himself. With his newfound strength, he may even be able to wrangle up a bear. What a feast that would make.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bows his head to her in thanks. 

He’s about to step outside, one foot exits the canvas before the rest of him, when it hits him that he feels…odd, uncomfortable leaving her like this. He can’t place his finger on why. He’s ridden atop many women and left without saying a word.

But, he supposes this is dissimilar.

Evelyn listened to him tonight, heard him out when anyone else would have carved him into pieces without second thought. She let him drink from her, forgave him for getting…carried away. 

The most shocking part of it all is that regardless of her dismissiveness, he now undeniably knows that she’s attracted to him. Yet, she didn’t capitalize on the opportunity when it arose to take advantage of his altered state; of his needs. With that, she’s shown him more kindness in the last hour than he’s experienced in his entire undead life. 

He likely owes her for this, of course, but there are worse fates he could endure.

The elf looks over his shoulder at her and catches her watching him intently, as if she wants to continue this conversation but can’t quite figure out what she wants to say. The intensity of her gaze almost forces him to turn back towards her, drawn to her by an unfamiliar ache; a thrill in his spine, the compulsion pulling at his chest like some sort of spell.

“This is a gift, you know.” The words escape him, hanging in the air between them with raw authenticity. He means to make himself sound more frivolous, but before he can edit them in his head, more truth spills from his lips, “I won’t forget it.”

His throat tightens. He considers her for a moment, wondering what he might find if he does turn to meet her eyes.

But, Astarion resists.

She must be exhausted. He shouldn’t take up any more of her time.

He leaves before she can respond. There wasn’t anything left for them to discuss, and he’s desperate to break free from the uneasy weight of her presence.

The second he steps fully outside, he feels as though he can breathe again, not that he needs to, being undead and all. 

What a strange feeling, that was. 

One he decides he’d rather forget. Best to not burden himself too much with it.

The taste of her lingers on his teeth. He finds himself savoring it for a moment too long before stalking towards the forest, confident. Ready to hunt. 

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 oc #im muting every bit of social media i have after posting this lmfao #evelyn

[therealvinelle]

what are the cullen’s hobbies? (not canon ones, things and activities you think they’d enjoy - even if being a vampire made it a little difficult or damn near impossible)

God, my eye is twitching with the desire to give them the weirdest hobbies imaginable.

The Cullens have an insane amount of money and time, and their powers (ultra-fine muscle control, amazing vision, etc.) means they will excel at a lot of hobbies.

The hobbies they are prevented from by their vampirism are things involving animals, professional sports (as you'll have to submit to drug tests and your health and fitness routine being monitored), close contact with people in general, food-based hobbies, and hobbies were humans are likely to bleed one way or another.

To say nothing of how niche a hobby community can get. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and that opens up for a level of scrutiny a vampire might not be prepared for.

So, let's assume these barriers aren't an issue for whatever reason. What do the Cullens do?

(I... admit I wasn't entirely able to resist that weird hobby urge.)

Alice might just find herself doing cat or dog shows. The level of perfectionism and effort that goes into preparing your pet (depending strongly on breed and fur quality, of course, some breeds require little if any preparation. The universal experience, though, is GROOOOOOOOOMMMM and if it’s dogs, then TRAIIIIINNNNN your dog) could very well appeal to her, and I imagine she'd develop her own coat products. Silicone powder, color-enhancing shampoo, volumizing spray, she's got her own line, to say nothing of the edge her gift would give her, as she would know which puppy or kitten to buy. (The "which cub am I choosing?!!" issue being a common one because when a puppy is 8 weeks old you simply do not know if it will grow up to be a hottie or not, and it’s not much easier with 12 week old kittens. This is a science.) Her pets win everything.

Carlisle, well, the trouble with this guy is his work is his hobby. And it's already one vampires are supposed to be unable to do. The man is a fluke. Carlisle's hobby is now to be able to contribute to medical research and reference patients from the 1820's without anybody asking questions.

Edward... god, all I can picture is some intensely esoteric craft, one that five people in the world can do and that creates something beautiful and meaningful. Making instruments, the rarer and more elaborate the better, is the name of the game, I think.

Emmett would love to compete. He's a vampire, he's going to win at everything anyway, he's incredible. He kicks the butts of seventeen-year-old humans who worked hard and makes them all cry because he just took their scholarships. He whoops, beats his chest. VICTORY!!

Esme, cooking competitions. She's winning them all. And, because anon said to remove the vampirism problems, she's not eating her competitors.

Jasper is into theatre. Not because he's particularly interested in it, oh no, he just likes to abuse his gift this way. With his gift he can make the other actors bomb their scenes, or make an untalented schmuck seem like the next Rex Harrison. He's in a movie club for the same reason. He made one guy laugh during Schindler's List. Just the one.

Renesmée, if finding the limitations of her hybridness lifted, becomes a freestyle diver. Who needs to breathe? Usually Renesmée, but not anymore!

Rosalie has her cars already, but she strikes me as a horse girl. Give the girl an unafraid horse, and the ability to compete without that being an issue, and our girl is on a Dutch Warmblood competing on a national level in dressage.

#cullens #twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #the cullens #carlisle cullen #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #jasper hale #renesmee cullen #you know this post has been in my drafts forever because renesmee was spelled renesmée #renesmée cullen #alice cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen

[moooxy]

Hii! I have a request, so I loved the scene in the woods between Eddie and Chrissy! Eddie has had a huge crush on y/n since they were in middle school, but he’s never pursued her bc of her popular status + she’s dating a popular athlete (who’s pretty douchey) they meet in the woods and she begs for weed but he refuses then joking says smth like “if you’re stress, head works like a charm” and y/n reveals she’s never received before

Thank you so much for your request - I actually had a pretty similar idea to this

Warnings: slightly OOC Eddie, dirty talk, cheating.

Eddie pulls out the crumpled edge of a paper from his pocket. It read:

Forest during cheer practice xox

With a sigh, he slides off of the bench, patting Dustin’s shoulder as he makes his way to the forest.

On his way there, he passes the cheer practice. He tries to see who’s missing but it’s no use, all of the cheer girls look the same to him.

Clearing a few branches, he peers through the leaves and finally sees a figure. They’re sitting on the bench, dressed in a cheer outfit. They look up when they hear leaves crunching, and Eddie almost snorts.

He looks curious, but you see he’s putting up an uninterested front. “What is little miss perfect doing sneaking notes into my pocket?” He chirps, sliding onto the bench in front of you. You scowl at him, already feeling slightly belittled.

“I was just uh-“ you splutter, taking a deep breath. “Wondering if you had anything for stress - to calm me down.”

“Oh?”

“I have 20 bucks on me…?” You say sceptically. “Someone told me that it helps you relax… and with finals I can’t sleep at night and you know.. I’m puking because of anxiety; my hair is falling out; fucking Mr Brown keeps on calling my Mom about my attendance-“

“Yeah, yeah Sweetheart. Sorry but I’m not selling you anything, not today,” he says with a straight smile. Like he’s sad to disappoint you.

“What? Why not?” You furrow your brows, lips pointing.

“Because I’ve seen how hard you party,” he gets off the bench in-front of you, and he starts to pace around. “I’m not risking it, sweetheart.”

“Please, Eddie. I need something to relieve my stress, I’m out of options!” You sigh, your head falling into your hands on the table. You run your fingers through your hair, disappointed.

“Listen, you have a boyfriend don’t you?” He says and you nod. “Why don’t you go ask him to help you out?” He suggests, you furrow your brows.

“No, I can’t. He doesn’t-“ You pause.

“Doesn’t what?”

“I’m not telling you about my sex life, Eddie Munson.” You tease, uttering his name slowly.

With a grin, he looks over at you. He leans on the table in front of you, eyes trained on your own. “I might think about giving you a little something if you tell me what you were gonna say.”

“Fine. Patrick is- he’s - I don’t know how to say this…” you say with a sigh. He’s urging you to continue. “He doesn’t… make me finish.”

His eyebrows raise up in shock, before a grin returns to his cheeks. “Oh shit. Do you… Give him head?” You nod. “Has he tried to give you before?”

“No, God he’d never do that. What is this? Sex therapy?”

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m just curious, but god damn. He must be one hell of a good guy if he can’t make you cum and doesn’t eat you out. What a prick,” Eddie laughs to himself.

“That’s why I came to you.”

“I don’t sell oral sex, if that’s what you mean.”

“God, no Eddie! That’s not what I mean,” you splutter.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But he’s your first, I’m assuming?” Eddie asks and you nod. “So that means you’ve never received before?” You nod again.

“Why, you offering?” You let out. You instantly regret saying that when you feel his eyes snap onto you.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t do that to me. You know full well that I play up to my word,” he grins, sitting on the bench in-front of you again. He rests his chin on his palms, such an innocent position with such a devilish smirk.

“Don’t do what?”

“Joke about that,” he says.

“I wasn’t joking.” You simply reply. Your face flushes with heat at the way he glares at you, he stares at you like you’re fucking Steve Harris.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” He lets out, chuckling slightly. “You poor girl. You must be so pent up with stress,” he mocks you. “Boyfriend won’t eat your pussy, can’t make you cum,” he rasps. Your breathing shallows at his lack of filter, restraint. He’s relishing in the effect he has on you.

You only gulp in anticipation.

“Patrick doesn’t deserve you… you deserve a man that isn’t scared of licking pussy,” he’s leaning over the table now, whispering lowly into your ear. “I can’t sell you any skunk, sweetheart. But I may be able to offer you… something else?”

“What else?” You say, voice trembling with nervousness.

His lips curl up into a grin, “you’ll have to find out. Meet me later?”

The way his eyes burn into yours, you can only nod in response. Your gaze follows his tongue that glides across his bottom lip.

“Until later, then.” He adds with a smirk, before leaving you alone in the woods - contemplating your decision.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson/reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader

[ackermental]

I have to say that the first episode was almost perfect.

I know, I'm surprised myself.

First things I didn't like, since for once this will be shorter.

1. Rhaenyra and Alicent being friends make my blood boil. It was done for no other reason than to make Alicent look more sympathetic. They had to do something I guess, since showing her on the screen without Gyldayn reminding you every second paragraph what a wonder she was, makes her look like a cunt to any sane person. Her simply following her father's bidding can turn into an interesting storyline, though. I'll give it time to grow.

2. Jaehaerys sitting in Harrenhal during Great Council of 101 was a terrible choice and it is important to the plot, since this whole thing was one big scam.

3. The Iron Throne and those swords look absolutely ridiculous. I laughed so hard I had to make a pause to go take a piss.

4. Daemon's armor. That's it. Nothing else to add.

5. I can tell that they've tried to make wigs look better but it's still not enough.

6. Rhaenyra's whole talk with Aemma about birth and swords is simply eye-rolling. She's just returned from her ride on what is an atomic bomb of the known world and she's talking about knights. Right.

7. Corlys shouldn't even be there. I like that he and Rhaenys are being introduced in the first episode, but again, I find it important to show how big of a rift between the family this damn Council was.

8. I always believed that "the queen who never was" was a slur, not a prise.

9. No purple eyes, hair colours are all mixed up, but it's nothing new for HBO so I don't really care.

And that's it. The rest was fun in the best meaning of the word.

1. I love how they show you that Rhaenyra is smart and knowledgeable and at the same time absolutely bored with book studies. Fuck the septa, Alicent, I'm a frickin Princess.

2. Her dresses looked very nice.

3. I liked how smoothly they've established that Rhaenys has Baratheon's blood. I was worried about it since they've changed her hair colour.

4. Dragons look good.

5. Even though he shouldn't be there at that time, Corlys was wonderful in every scene.

6. I didn't have to watch Ser Cunt naming Rhaenyra the Queen of love and beauty. That was such a big win, yes, thank the gods.

7. Love that they've kept the little hint of Aemma losing all of her children except for Rhaenyra.

8. I'm also glad they've kept the part of Viserys getting cut by the Iron Throne. I'm hoping they will show us the strange inability of the maester to heal it. As well as show us Aegon getting rid of the man.

9. Golden cloaks? Perfect. Just perfect.

10. They did Daemon justice. This is the biggest shock to me. Almost everything was there, jeez.

Daemon spends his nights with Mysaria. He's not cutting people limbs for the sake of it. He is the only person on the Small Council who actually cares for the future of his House. They bring up the fact that he is the only military power Viserys has, that given the Council of 101 it's perfectly normal for him to be an heir. They not only tell, but show you the way he keeps getting pushed away from his brother.

Yes. YES to all of it. I'm ready to give someone a medal for writing it this well.

11. Every scene with Rhaenyra and Daemon, because they are perfect. They are also speaking valyrian, just like they should.

12. Daemon calling Otto a cunt.

13. The Long Night reveal seemed like oversimplifying a thing or two, but I will take it for this medium. The bigger picture stuff is long overdue anyway. Especially the prophetic dreams. Can I get my Children of the forest being creepy now?

14. Dragons have saddles. Finally!

15. Glad they didn't make Viserys an outright drunken fool but a fool nevertheless.

16. They didn't show us Daemon saying it! They cut away to Otto mentioning his witnesses 🙄. They've really done it. I want to kiss the writer.

So yeah, I enjoyed it. Very much so. I'm less worried about the rest of this show now for sure.

#hotd #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen

[madhattersez]

I finally got my hands on something I've been looking for (for a reasonable price) since I was just a lowly little level 12 hornball - A "Marvel Swimsuit Special!"

This is the second issue in the series (though the third book of its kind), and it was released in 1993 when... times were different.

The coolest thing about them (other than the totally radical '90s hunkeroos and baberinos in general) is the amount of really talented artists that submitted pieces - So many industry-leading folks putting their spin on the self-aware, low-brow, tongue-in-cheek project.

This first image was by Joe Jusko, a super popular cover artist at the time. I remember his Conan covers the most.

I'll eventually scan the whole thing in high quality, but for now, I'll take some preview pics to show you some of my favorite and/or goofiest pages:

Here is Domino, looking like we might need to race her to a Dermatology appointment. She's apparently tacky enough to wear a swimsuit with a domino print on it.

And check out Cable in the back - Sun's out, cyberbun out! He's ready to catch some waves on a totally-worth-the-money-and-production-time rocket-powered machine gun surfboard.

I really appreciate this artist's commitment to all the "Liefeld pouches" here. I hope they're waterproof, or all those Tic Tacs inside 'em are gonna get ruined. :(

Penciling by Chris Batista, ink by Hector Collazo, coloring by Mark McNaab.

Let's kick off the "after the jump" part properly with this glorious image of Pip. Because this is certainly what people bought this book for.

It just so happens that this fuzzy little asshole narrates the entire issue, so he's to blame for the inherently sexist captions on all the pictures.

Jesus Christ, he's got two big toes on each foot.

Pencilking by Darick Robertson, ink by Andrew Pepoy, coloring by Tom Smith.

I love me some Cloak and Dagger.

Tandy looks as gorgeous as ever. Surely she owns stock in boobie tape by now.

Tyrone, however, is getting so much sand stuck to him right now... I don't think he digs being used as a beach blanket. I'm... not even sure he's ever had to wash his cloak before today! Yikes. He's all like:

Penciling by Joe Madureira, ink by Terry Austin, and coloring by Gregory Wright.

I can't stop laughing at how much Thunderstrike looks exactly like the Genetic Freak, Big Poppa Pump Scott Steiner in this picture:

The work is entirely by Lou Harrison. It may not surprise you to learn he's also a Fantasy artist.

I've always had a thing for Silver Sable, and this page is just fantastic.

That being said, my favorite part is Sandman sitting there, looking like a dope, shaped like a sand castle. Which, while it seems silly, was probably the most challenging and detailed thing I've ever seen him do with his powers. Worth it for the shot, I suppose!

Line work and ink by Steven Butler, a favorite of mine. He did penciling for the "Silver Sable and the Wild Pack" series (which got me attached), but he's also known for designing the Scarlet Spider suit. Coloring by Gregory Wright.

If you thought I wasn't going to Morb out on this post, you were undead wrong.

Just look at that ridiculous batpackage. Also... Is he really serving a cape over a leather jacket, but with absolutely no pants? Damn, dude.

Penciling by Gary Barker, ink by Jimmy Palmiotti, coloring by Tom Smith.

I can spot Adam Hughes' work a mile away, wow. I guess I didn't realize he was doing work for Marvel this far back.

A fierce-as-ever, short-haired Natasha who looks like she got slammed so hard against a rocky wall that it cracked, got up, emptied out the rest of her clip, and still had enough time and energy to pose during a reload.

Black Widow, bay-bayyy. ♫

Oh my god, Ghost Rider is just so naughty. Wearing nothing but his birthday bones.

This scene just looks like it smells awful.

Artwork by Tristan Shane.

Shulkie in a metal bikini (function over fashion?), bursting out of the lava from an active volcano. You wanna talk "hot tub?" Sure, this gets a feature.

Penciling and ink by cover artist Steve Geiger, coloring by Paul... Mounts.

Deezamn, Bishop. Never seen guy looking so buff before.

Instead of just Bishop, this looks like Hank McCoy and Bishop had a child together. Does he have any other mode than "arm vein p-pop?"

Penciling by Dwayne Turner, ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright.

Ah, one of the more famous '90s Psylocke images that wasn't done by Jim Lee.

This centerfold was used in lots of comic store ads for several years after this issue came out. I remember seeing posters in the shops themselves. Trading cards of this picture are one of the most costly to collect.

It's beautiful, and the colors/lighting/shading are all fantastic.

Penciling and ink by the wonderful Art Thibert, creator of the Raft max security prison and inker of some of the most iconic X-title covers.

Coloring by Paul Mounts, who did the coloring in hundreds and hundreds of just Marvel comics alone - I didn't mention that earlier because I was snickering at his name earlier in the She-Hulk feature. My bad.

Well, this wouldn't be Tumblr without a cat picture, yeah? Or a catgirl picture, I suppose.

This is the most adorable scene in the book. Just Tigra innocently taking a cuddle nap with some... um... wow, I don't know what the fuck those things are. Snuggle up anyway!

Penciling and ink by Amanda Conner, coloring by Gregory Wright.

Huh. Of all the characters in this book, I really didn't expect to see Dr. Cooper... Either which way, the swimsuit under the detective get-up is pretty choice, honestly.

This is, of course, another Adam Hughes line art joint. Ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright (who did a lot of these, huh?).

What's this? A parody ad that you'd more expect to see in an issue of "What The--?!" that only '80s kids will understand? Yup, totally.

This was in the back of the book and doesn't fit the theme at all, but it gets a mention because of the weird inclusion and also to stall time until I had the final image ready, because I needed time to prepare...

THIS.

This is the one.

How could I not end this little "show and tell" without this beauty right here?

Here, we have remorseless killer Frank Castle flexing his best end-of-catwalk pose in front of a... wrestling match between a bunch of lady demon dinosaurs battling... for his affection? To tip him American cash? Or maybe all those hearts come from their love of beating each other up? I'm not here to judge.

And then there's a sign for 75 cent hotdogs, but it's been covered with another sign for... $20 tooth brushes? What in the shit is going on here?

There is one thing I do know, though. The artist wants you to think that The Punisher has at least $2.75 worth of hotdog under that massive crotch skull.

#marvel swimsuit special #marvel comics #marvel #rare comics #rare #swimwear #comic book art #rogue #cable #cloak & dagger #she hulk #the punisher #tigra #psylocke #ghost rider #bishop #black widow #morbius #silver sable #big poppa pump

[ygodmyy20]

Watched the mob psycho 100 1st stage play yesterday and what an absolute delight it was. I was laughing so hard in parts. The actors were amazing and clearly loved what they were doing.

The MVP was of course Ito-san. Just wow, having him there just made it all work. It was amazing to see him act as mob he is honestly so perfect. He really is Shigeo. And at the end when he started to get choked up I was like “oh my god I’m crying too” I can’t wait to watch the other plays.

Also, the sillies do not take away the fact that watching Ito-San act through 100% sadness was….so gut wrenching. I started to tear up during that scene. I wasn’t sure how they would do it since I’m the anime you don’t hear mob. But they went for it and god damn it….through all the sillies of it all, that scene punched me.

Also. Watching the stage play….inspired me to just furiously write a teru-centric angst again. Like how did the stage play inspire that??? Hell if I know

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #stage play #mp100 stage play #shigeo kageyama #teruki hanazawa #I’m gonna post that wip don’t you worry #I normally wouldn’t be like I gotta share #but I know a few who may like this teru angst train I’m on hahaha #I luv you teru #meta

[silverislander]

in (slightly late) honour of the arcaniversary, based on a tweet i saw: bloopers i wish we could see

the kids tripping/falling during the parkour scenes at the beginning

vander forgetting his lines i KNOW that shit is funny. "you're a good kid, vi. good heart. that's not the- hell. (pats her on the shoulder while she is visibly trying not to laugh) good kid"

THE END OF THE TAKES OF POWDER'S BREAKDOWNS she just pops up the second someone yells cut with a big smile, still has tears running down her face. everyone is terrified of her

jayce and viktor repeatedly accidentally breaking/dropping the hexcore/crystals

mel breaking character during the council scenes!! actually any of the councillors really

every take of the infamous "you're hot, cupcake" where one of them breaks and giggles. kill me oh my god

jinx tripping on her braids. one of them falls off during a scene bc they're extensions. gets caught on a passing piece of scrap. gets caught on her minigun. gets caught on vi's jacket. braid shenanigans!

parkour take where vi fucking wipes out, still pops up and tries to play it cool and say her line. (LOUD THUNK) "welcome to the lanes." and she walks off, crew and caitlyn both audibly laughing their asses off at her

during the fight scene w sevika vi's shirt rips right down the side

i want to hear heimerdinger mess up a line and say the fuck word.

jinx jumping into silco's lap but she almost accidentally snaps his scrawny old man legs

ekko and jinx both making it their mission to try to make the other break offscreen

cassandra kicking in the door with the shotgun but it doesnt. actually open

cassandra kicking in the door with the shotgun. the door swings open, then swings shut again in her face

tea party except caitlyn struggles so hard the chair falls over with her in it someone fucking help her

caitlyn: DROP THE GUN. (someone yells cut) vi, from offscreen, sounding extremely gay: ... DAMN

the only time silco ruined a take was during his literal fucking death scene. nobody could hear exactly what he said to jinx but she started fucking cackling and they had to take 10 for her to calm down

it's the final scene, vi and caitlyn walking down the balcony, watching the rocket shoot over piltover. extremely emotional, caitlyn is crying, vi is in shock. and a piece of vi's gauntlet fucking falls off loudly

#PLEASE feel free to add more the brainrot i have is immeasurable #arcane #levi.doc

[astralbulldragon13]

Movie Night

It was raining heavily outside, an occasional grumble of thunder shook the wall, and a flash of lightning illuminated the sitting room. Two people could be seen sitting on a couch with a bowl of popcorn, in front of a television. After a hard week, it was time to relax and enjoy a movie.

(I think we all need some fluffy slice of life to feel better about the state of the universes. These are movies I enjoy that I think other they best suite these characters.)

V & Cheeky (Predator)

These two strike me as horror movie fans

Cheeky was probably apprehensive when V put the movie in after the kids when to bed, especially when she saw the title.

‘V, I swear to god if this is a damn porno-” “Calm down, woman, it’s not a porno, it’s a horror movie, you like them.”

The two of them find this movie oddly hilarious, especially with all the macho men.

Cheeky laughs a lot during the dirty jokes.

V likes the scenes with Arnold, especially where they're the meme scenes.

They love the, "You're one ugly motherfucker," line.

Cheeky usually winds up in V’s lap during

JayJay & Twinkles (Care Bears II: New Generation)

A sweet movie that’s slightly dark. Best thing for these two, so let’s stick with the wholesome.

Jayjay likes the bright colors and the cute little animals.

Twinkle was thinking of getting him a Care Bear for Christmas.

Dark Heart makes them both think of a cuddly Maverick.

Will chant 'I care," during that one scene.

Jayjay always winds up leaning against Twinkle, munching on the popcorn.

Siren x Sweetcheeks (Labyrinth)

Leave it to the siren to enjoy the musical

The whole movie is a bit of a muppet mind-trip, so it fits for these two.

I fully believe that the two would sing along with the songs, like, it’s a whooole karaoke night for these two

Si definitely pulls Sweetcheeks up to slow dance to ‘As the World Falls Down’.

Great, now I want to know if A. Scythe has seen Labyrinth, and B. I need him to cover at least one of the songs.

Thier favorite quote is, 'It's only forever, not long at all.' (Yes, I know it's not an actual line, but it fits them too well!)

Also, these two wind up curled around each other on the couch.

Zombie (before the Zombie) x Wife (The Last Unicorn)

The married couple gets some love with another musical.

I imagine these two watching this movie while the wife was pregnant, just singing along with the amazing soundtrack.

Singing does have some benefit while pregnant, so I picture them singing along to every song.

And when the baby got there, they would play the movie in as background noise.

Their favorite line is 'When men are fairytales and books are written by rabbits.'

They usually wind up spooning on the couch, her back against his chest.

#scythe audio #headcanon #scythe zombie #scythe v #scythe cheeky #scythe sweetcheeks #scythe siren #scythe twinkle

[thewritersaddictions]

The Anti-Hero: Solider Boy- Touches

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

Pov: Solider boy (Ben)

Warnings: Protective! Solider Boy, retirement party, grabby men, anger, smut, jealous, jealous fucking, bruises, party, drinking, drugs, causing a scene.

Summary: At Solider Boy's official retirement party, the people are far more interested in his girl than having fun getting drunk and getting high. It sends a jealous feeling down through Ben. Causing a scene is the first thing to happen.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.0k

The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List

She was always so damn beautiful. Sometimes I wonder how she ended up with a beast like me. I know a very dramatic way of thinking about my relationship with my dear Y/n. She’s the one person who truly understands me, and doesn’t take for granted what or who I am. Never once laughed at me, nor just shoved me aside. It’s been a rather long time since someone has been kind to the old man I am. 

Y/n had said something about a party that was being held in my honor by Vaught. A rather dumb charade for the public to latch onto and adore with so many different, and colorful comments. I had not only been working for Vaught for over fifty years now, but I have a measure of my life to be grateful for them getting me out of that Russian prison I was stuck in. “A retirement party for you Ben,” Y/n says as she shuffles into bed. It’s also been a rather long time since I got into bed with the same gal more than once or twice. But Y/n is all I could ever ask for, hips that dip at just the right point, a little tummy that’s just so kissable, and of course the rest of her body is just as kissable. 

“A retirement party you say, I wonder what I’ll do with all that extra time,” I mutter as I kiss the side of her neck, she shivers next to me. Rolling her eyes dramatically. “Well according to whomever I’m mooching this information off of you’d still have a regular spot in the lights just less about you making so much of an effort to let the younger souls do it,” Y/n mutters as I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close to my chest. 

This is my party and yet I feel my darling Y/n, being pulled away from me. She’s the nines, gold, and diamonds adore her skin in a beautiful construct with a dress I think she picked to just match my hero outfit. Green, Gold, and Diamonds are all I can see for a long while during the night. It starts off innocently enough, a limousine has come to drive us to the gate of Vaught Internationals doors and straight up to parties floor. “You look beautiful tonight,” I’m able to whisper into her ear before the dinging of the elevator reminds us that it’s not just the two of us. A whole party awaits us, and the unknown people do as well. I should have realized long ago when I first met Y/n that it would be hard to keep her attached to my hip. 

It would be hard to keep others hands off of what is not theirs in the first place. A few glances here and there are fine especially when my hand is wrapped securely around her waist. Dominating any man that dares to come up to talk, touch, or even look at her. Regardless of that Y/n blushes at my words and floats, literally floats beside me. She’s an angel in a rather very dark world of Vaught and superheroes. They are not super, or heroes at all. A bright shining star that everyone wants but only I can have. Her arm is in place nicely in mine, and all of a sudden it’s like flies on shit, there’s a swarm of people gathering us. “Oh my god, it’s you… it’s soldier boy!” … “We’re so glad that you’ve come to this retirement party for you.” … “You really are a true inspiration to us all!” … “You must be excited to retire and live a nice long soft life with our miss L/n.” The last comments throw me for a loop and the blush is radiating off of Y/n. I try not to bother myself with it as I thank and shake only a few people’s hands before dragging Y/n, and myself towards the bar. 

“Ben, are you alright?” Her voice is so soft, so warm it makes me almost buckle. I don’t, I only look over at her, shining brighter in the dull atmosphere we’ve put ourselves in. “I’m fine as long as you’re right here beside me.” Y/n blushes again, her cheeks have stayed the pinkest shades of pink ever since she met me. “Aw Ben,” She mutters as she clings to my arm like a cub to a mama bear. “Are you up for a drink?” I suggest looking over at the large selections of drinks on the mirrored wall. “Oh, just a Strawberry Daiquiri is enough for me,” Y/n rests her head on my bicep as I order our drinks. No point in getting too drunk tonight, but a buzz would be nice if I have to continue to deal with stupid people at this fucking party. A strong drink would be too much so beer is what I order. Nothing compares to the drinks we have back in the day, but back in the day is more than eighty years ago. 

The drinks were rather quick and maybe it’s because my face is one that says fuck around and find out, or maybe the bartender is simply good at his fuckin’ job. Either or I don’t really give a shit, I hand Y/n her drink and her eyes light up with joy. “Do you want to find somewhere to sit? Your heels must be hurting your feet by now.” I whisper into her ear. She shivers but her drink stays steady in her hand. I’m not one for parties, especially with all the new laws and regulations of what other activities you can be doing with said parties. A bunch of fucking party downers those fucks are. Y/n shakes her head, sipping at her drink already I find a booth. A small but large enough table that is reserved for the highest of the high. So I can only assume that’s meant for me. 

As Y/n sips at her drink as we sit in the booth a few of her friends come over. Begging her to go out and dance. “Do you mind Ben?” She yells over the growing music. Even as she’s yelling she’s still very quiet. “I don’t mind at all,” I say taking a sip of my third or fourth beer of the long night that is growing to be more of an annoyance than a true party. As her friends try to tug her in the direction of the dance floor she’s sure to peck me once on the cheek leaving a smudge of her lipstick on my cheek. I smile as she waves at me while being tugged by her friend’s group. I gaze at her from afar. Her hips swayed and her smile grew as she dances on the floor with her friends. Every time a guy comes up to the already small group of her friend the spike of jealousy comes rolling through and I have to swallow it down. 

Y/n friend group does a great job of keeping the circle tightknit, and together. Nobody in and nobody out. I notice that Y/n disappears and my heart begs to race with anger and panic before I once again see her head poke out from below the crowd of people dancing, she’s shorter than before. Her heels are now in her hands, she’s swaying, and knowing the liquor in her drink must have been a little too much as I can hear her giggle plan as day even on the loud and crowded floor. 

See leaving the booth that was the issue. I should have just stayed there and watched her all night long, but I wanted another beer and something like water for Y/n when she finally did return to our booth. When I returned to the booth she was gone, not really gone just not where I had last seen her. I set the drink down with a loud crash. Beer and water went flying across the tablecloth, I was rushing out. My suit and black tie were clinging to my large body in an effort to make me even more pissed off. “Y/n?” I began to yell throughout the crowd of dancing people. I managed to get through fairly easily once I pushed a few people out of the way. Once I made it to what was Y/n small friend group it was dismantled and no longer a fortified circle. One girl was dry-humping a guy in a rather shabby suit. The others were either halfway to fucking each other or making out horribly with some random guy. Even in a crowded room or a thousand people, I could still hear her precious voice ringing out above all else. 

She wasn’t with her group of friends and I was starting to freak the fuck out. I could hear her, I just wasn’t able to find her in the large crowd of people. It was as if the crowd grew out, for every step that I took. Growing larger and wider with every step my heart raced in my chest, I hadn’t felt this type of adrenaline since I was in the war. Blowing up shit, and throwing people across a large field. Like a flashback, and I was right back to searching for Y/n. Her voice was in terror. She was begging, begging for something. I walked faster and harder on the marble floor. 

Finally, I found her, being pushed around by a few drunk men. Her back was up against the wall, her eyes were pleading with everyone all the men around her. “Aren’t you just a sexy little thing?” “Just arm candy for Solider boy aren’t you?!” “I bet you’re just a good fuck for him!” “Let’s be honest, we must be good enough to keep that man entertained.” The men are all bickering back and forth. If it wasn’t for the drinks she had been sipping on beforehand Y/n would have been able to deal with these small dicked idiots. But at last, she was far too drunk to take care of herself, and I was quite with acting as her hero. Boosting my ever-growing ego. 

 “Please just… just let me go! Ben isn’t gonna be so too happy.” I heard Y/n mumble, as the guys become to push her further into the wall. Hands came to grab her wrist and arms. My anger had been boiling really since we walked into the damn Vaught building. But as of now, I was ready to fucking kill some random dicks. Touching what was mine. “I do think that she asked you to stop,” I said loud and clear, but maybe these guys were deaf and dicks. Not that it really mattered when I grabbed the closet guy from his collar holding him far above the ground. “Do you hear me now?” I asked. Heads turned and faces turned from Y/n to me. Disgust to horror. “I told you.” Y/n spitted out 

I smiled, but there was something more important happening right now. “I thought I said you should probably let her go.” Y/n relaxed as their grabby hands let her go. “I don’t know about you, but I’d love to cause a scene at my own retirement party. What do you think?” I asked the group of disgusting men. The man in my hands that was still dangling from above the marble floor was shaking his head hard. “We’ll just go… No need to cause a such scene.” He begged, I rolled my eyes, looking right over at my darling. “What do you think?” “Hm… Maybe you just drop that ugly fuckin’ guy, and take me home.” Even drunkenly Y/n was the most beautiful girl on the planet. “Oh… I see where that dirty mind is going.” I dropped the guy, and walked over to my girl. Grabbing her softly and walking towards the door. I turned at the last minute. “Party over guys, Go fucking home!” Heads turned, but I didn’t give a shit as I walked out with my doll on my arm. 

–

I didn’t wait until we got home. I was crawling to get into her dress in the car ride back to the house. Her legs hooked over mine as her back rested up against my back. My fingers played with the soft lace that covers her soaked cunt. Whispering dirty little things in her ear as she shivered against me. “Fuck sweetheart, aren’t you just soaking for me.” Pulling her panties to the side I let my fingers play with her puffy clit, and her moans filled the back of the limousine. A privacy divider couldn’t hold back the moans that bounced off the interoir walls of the car. “Fuck Ben, you’re such…” A drunk and mumbling mess, I didn’t give a shit because I wanted her now just as much as she wanted me. “I’m such what sweetheart? Huh?” My fingers played with her clit. Slow and then fast. Anything for my sweet girl. “You… just don’t stop please don’t… Ben please…” Y/n mumbled as she arched her back forward trying desperately to reach her high. 

The limousine came to a stop. “Darling, we’re home. We can continue inside.” I muttered into her ear, she sighed at the loss of my fingers. Begrudgingly getting off my lap and fixing her panties before scooting her ass off the leather seats and heels onto the asphalt. I settled myself before licking my fingers and following closely behind Y/n. Drunk and walking fast to get into the house. Heels coming off halfway up the stairs to the front door. She was stripping the second we got into the bedroom. Her clothes cause a trail, looking up once she had her dress half off her shoulders, and the next her dress, bra, and panties were laying on the floor and her naked body was starfished on top of the sheets. 

“Come on Solider boy, I know you wanna fuck me.” She always had such a dirty mouth when she was drunk. My dress pants were tight as fuck even in the limousine ride back to the house. But now seeing her naked my pants were getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. “Come here, big boy.” Y/n coaxed me, she was relaxing on her elbows one finger bringing me over the edge of the bed. I walked over the edge of the bed, as she brought her body to met mine. “Can I take off your shirt baby?” She voice was loose, but lurred me in every time. With Y/n I had no control over the things I did, or the things she did to me. “Yeah, baby you can.” She smiled a wide smile and reached up. Pushing the coat down my shoulders letting it land to the floor. Undoing the tie and flinging keeping that on the bed beside her hip. Finally she got the buttons. Undoing each button with slow tantalizing fingers. 

When her cold fingers touched my warm chest it sent shivers down my spine, and everything in that moment felt right. Her hands on me, and my head falling to touch the back of my shoulders. “Fuck sweetheart.” There was nothing to take off of her sweet body, and I was just fine with that. Y/n’s hands reached for my belt and with that my hard cock that was pressed into the fabric gave some release. When my dress pants went falling down my thighs and landing at my ankles. Shoes having come off when we first came into the house. 

“Look at you, so big and waitin’ for me,” Y/n was biting her lips looking down at my cock pressed up agasint my boxers. A wet spot from pre cum, “Her ice cold hands reached out and grabbed onto my cock. Boxers sliding down and out of the way. She rubbed her hand up and down my shaft before she shifted her position laying on her stomach and her mouth surrounded my cock. Warmth surrounding me. She moaned and took me all the way into her throat, the sounds of her gagging and ragged breathing causing my heart to race in my chest as I tired to get my hand around her hair.  

Before I knew it I was begging her to stop. “Stop… you gotta stop sweetheart.”  Ragged breathing I was able to get out the next part of my thought. “As much as I love cuming down your thoart I have a better place of cumming.” A wink sent her mouth popping off my cock and then she was looking up with michevious eyes, “Get on your kees sweetheart,” I forced her head into the pillows and made her hips raise up to met my own. Her thighs were slick with wetness as I slipped right into her wet cunt. 

“Such a good girl for me… takes me so good everytime.” I murmur to myself, the muffled moans that came from underneath me only encouraged me to thrust faster and harder into her cunt. Y/n’s hands reaching out to grab onto the fabric her knuckles going white from her grip and her cunt was gripping me harder desperatly trying to keep me in. With each thrust and squeeze of her cunt it was getting easier for me to let my cum fill her cunt up. Her moans didn’t die down as she came around me. 

“Such a good girl for me like always,” I murmured into her ear as I slipped out of her cunt. She was more alert somehow. Y/n turned and looked up at me “You were jealous weren’t you?!” She asked with a cocky smile. “I’m never jealous of other guys, I just know what’s mine Y/n.” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close. “And your mine,” I whisper into her ear.

Completed on: 05/02/23

Posted on: 05/23/23

The Anti-Hero-

#the boys x you #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys #solider boy x you #solider boy #solider boy x reader #x reader #one shot #solider boy smut #fluff #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #jealousy #prompts list #18+ content #18+ only #18+ fanfic #18+ readings #the boys smut

[yourlovelypet228]

Supremacy and Revenge

♡ Soldier x f!reader ♡

A/N: I love this character my god, in every sfm he is so attractive and terrifying 😻😻

I'm also having some problems with Tumblr, so excuse me

It was the sunniest day of your life, but despite the weather you needed to participate in battles to gain the advantage of the enemies, as usual there was a sniper, scout, medic and engineer on the field.Unfortunately, the heavy one was not on the battlefield because they already managed to finish him off during this time, and you? You were a spy, you had everything, a disguise, a knife, invisibility and the trust of doctors.How pathetic they looked when they were treating you, they didn’t even understand that you could come out of disguise and kill them in the back, they will remember this for a long time and maybe even forever! You always laughed at their corpses and were proud of yourself when they behaved so naively, but there was always that person who could recognize you even with a disguise. Soldier.This damn crazy American, he always got on your nerves, when you wanted to come up behind him, he can always hear that extra sound that will reveal everything. It's been going on for so long he simply mocked you and humiliated you for the rest of the entire fight. He always took advantage of you, and you could never fight back and take revenge on him.

Again, when you were under the cover of a medic, you decided that you would walk behind the soldier to hit him hard in the back so that he would remember this blow forever, you followed him, he always called for help and you just pretended to help him, and then the very moment came when he was reloading his weapon, he put his back on your body to make it easier to load faster and so you suddenly come out of cover and kill him with a stab in the back, what a pity that he believed you

- Crazy soldier...

With these words, you looked at his body and quickly left the murder scene.

You felt much better after that day, you wished everyone good morning and sweet dreams, made everyone breakfast and always supported your team! It made my soul feel so good to see the blue soldier without a mood and always check the doctors, which means it left a mark on him that he shouldn’t trust anyone.

When you decided that you could kill a soldier and were heading towards him invisibility, something tickled inside your body and you simply lost consciousness? Was it because of the heat or what? Unknown..

When you woke up, you realized that you could not move freely in the literal sense, you were tied up, everything around was dark, gloomy and cold, no source of light, until you heard footsteps approaching, one of them was heavy and the other was very light and hasty. You began to slowly freeze and think how long you would be here and what was happening to your team. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a rough, stern male voice.

- Well, well, who do we have here? The red team's worst spy, isn't it?

After these words, the light bulb and two people turned on. Bastards.. It was a Soldier and a Medic. This was expected, but the same thing, you were surprised at how calm the soldier’s expression and his voice were.

- What do you need from me?!

You tried to move at least a little but it was useless, this man is very good at knots since he tied you up like that

As you waited for their response, a short chuckle was released from the Soldier.

- Medic, you are free.. thanks for your help during the battlefield, you can go, I will personally talk to this spy.

You looked at the Medic in the hope that he would give at least some hope and a hint that you would be saved, but the only thing you saw was his serious expression and eyes in which anger burned from how you treacherously treated him when he helped you

- Listen, Soldier, we can all solve this peacefully, right? Don't go that far!

- In peaceful way? I'm not even sure I'm capable of this, Y/N.

- How do you know-

- It doesn't matter at the moment. Now the most important thing is how do you feel when you killed me in the back?!

- Oh, the poor Soldier just wants to know how I felt. How kind of you! Well, when I killed you, I was so glad and happy because I didn’t suffer so much from you anymore, I also became much kinder towards my team. How did you feel at that moment Solly?

You just smiled at the way you called him, you really wanted to piss him off and get on his nerves after all this.

The growl left his throat as he pulled your knife from his pocket and brought it to your throat.

- My knife? Are you serious?

You laughed because your knife was being used against you by the Soldier himself! What a surprise. Your cheerful thoughts were suddenly interrupted when you felt the blade begin to scratch your throat.

- I'll beat the crap out of you, spy. Even if I love you, you still piss me off and drive me crazy

You expect him to insult you but instead he just confessed his love for you? Did he really hate you all the time because of his own feelings? You were still enemies and should hate each other, but from the way his words sounded you were embarrassed, he shouldn’t say that, it’s not right..

The blade was still scratching your throat, you tried to maintain eye contact and not look away, but that soft blush on your face was very noticeable, you didn’t want him to see how his words affected you and you say these words harshly

- Okay okay that's enough, I admit defeat!

- That's all? I expected you to fight to the end, maggot. But I'll tell you one thing before I set you free. Don't even try to tell anyone about this situation. Do you understand me?

His words interested you and of course you wanted to know about it, why doesn’t he want you to tell anyone about this situation and what can he do if you tell?

You thought for a while until you felt how he begins to untie these ropes with your knife, his hands were so strong and the way his muscles tensed when he was in his white T-shirt, it really turned you on, also your closeness when he untied your upper body also your thighs and legs area. When he was finishing, he stopped his head on your neck, inhaling the smell of cigarettes you bought a few hours ago.When he pulled away from your neck, he simply looked at you through his helmet, admiring your beauty and closeness, you stood motionless for several minutes before you spoke.

- Solly? I can go, right?

He simply hummed at your question and stood up from his position looking down at you.

You decided not to wait for his answer and suddenly got up from the chair, you completely forgot that you had been sitting like that for several hours and your legs were numb from such a motionless position. The soldier, noticing this, extended his hands to your waist, holding you so that you would not fall, when you had already found the strength and were able to find balance, you simply looked at him, looking at his facial features.

You didn’t even notice how the distance between you narrowed and you just became much closer, you slightly leaned towards his lips to capture a small kiss on his lips. You just left this little kiss on his lips, watching his reaction.

Now his expression softened at your action, he simply grinned at your boldness. You couldn't tell whether you were offended by your own courage or by the fact that the soldier wasn't against this kiss.

When you wanted to pull away from him and get away with it, he instead tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You lost your balance from such a sharp grip and simply hugged him by the shoulders without realizing it.

- Soldier?

- What is it, maggot?

- Can i leave now? Please??

After your words, he removed his hands from your waist, not knowing how to say goodbye to you and what will happen to you next.

You also couldn’t figure out what was going on between you and the Soldier.

You didn't want to stay here long, since you've already spent a long time here and your team is most likely worried, when you looked around you saw a door and noticed that it was already a little dark and it would be dangerous to return to the base yourself. Then you looked at the soldier who was about to leave until you approached him and touched his shoulder.

- I’m embarrassed to ask this, but can you take me to the base?

The soldier, hearing your words, immediately took you in his arms and carried you like in a wedding style.

- Soldier, I can walk, you know that?

- I know, but I want to spend more time with you because who knows, maybe next time this won’t happen again?

You decided to remain silent from his words. After all, his words somehow hurt you, maybe he’s right, next time he won’t be so kind, maybe next time you won’t die at his hands and weapons.

#team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Paulatim sed Firmiter (Slowly but surely) - Sunday morning

Only three more scenes to go and this chapter is done (finally, never again). Short because next scene has a completely different vibe.

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @rileyslibrarian

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Sunday morning

Common showers

Captain Price was indulgent enough to allow them to nap for the rest of the day before summoning them to his office first thing Sunday morning. 7am sharp.

Inwardly, Price felt proud. Damn proud. Not just because of the way those two – three, he reminded himself. Because he was starting to believe Simon about Gaz being involved somehow – had handled things during the week, but also because they had made sure to end the problem once and for all, getting the ball rolling.

The whole Saturday was spent interviewing witnesses at the pub and collecting statements from the privates, all of whom had agreed on the same thing: the Sergeants had only defended themselves and them, being Maynard the first to lay his hands on someone. His CO hadn’t been amused by the information, and even less so by Price’s smug look, and over a glass of bourbon and a cigarette – he’d never waste a cigar on someone like that - the Army Air Corps CO and him had reached an agreement.

All Sergeants involved would be severely reprimanded, and water under the bridge. Except for the little detail of the privates coming in droves to file formal complaints about the AAC Sergeants and Robinson, citing sexual harassment, bigotry, and God knew what else.

It wouldn't have turned out better even if he had planned it..

Still, he had to put up a show, and sternly reprimanded MacTavish and Vega for about half an hour, during which both Sergeants stood at attention, offering him No, sir, Yes sir with contrit voices when appropriate, and trying hard not to smirk meanwhile. And after that Price threw them out of his office just to hide his own laughter.

But show must go on, and thus the two Sergeants had to spend the rest of the morning scrubbing the common showers.

At least the third Sergeant, generously, decided to keep them company.

‘‘It’s a bloody shame none of the other two wanted to fight, I could have stayed’’ Gaz sighed, leaning against the wall nearest to the main door, arms crossed and observing with a smile while his fellow Sergeants and partners in crime were on their knees on opposite sides of the room, scrubbing the floors with brushes.

At least, they weren’t toothbrushes. Priced had had mercy on them. Barely.

‘‘We had decided beforehand that you wouldn’t intervene unless they were more than two’’ Soap grunted, his back and knees aching while he scrubbed vigorously the tiles in front of him.

‘‘One of us has to stay in Price’s good books’’ Riot muttered, busy scrubbing the tiles of the wall nearest to her. Gaz shook his head, shrugging.

‘‘He wasn’t happy anyway, I can feel it. He’s been glaring at me since yesterday.’’

‘‘You can’t be the teacher’s pet forever’’ Soap laughed, leaving the brush for a second to stretch out, grunting, and yawned obnoxiously loud while at it. ‘‘It was bound to happen that he’d catch on’’

‘‘If we’re lucky, there won’t be any more problems to deal with’’ Riot sighed, sitting down for a moment to rest as well, massaging her right knee absentmindedly.

‘‘Let’s hope so’’ Gaz nodded, unable to hide a satisfied smile given how well their plan had turned out. Soap chuckled while grabbing the brush again to keep scrubbing.

‘‘Aye… but we’ve had a blast’’

Riot turned around to glare at him, and Soap just laughed. Gaz started chuckling as well, and in the end, she couldn’t help but laugh too. Their laughter echoed in the tiled walls for a while, until a couple of knocks on the door made it die down.

Gaz opened the door to find a small group of privates there, among which where Davies, Grizzly, Ibekwe and Williams.

‘‘Sorry, lads, showers are out of order while they’re being cleaned’’

‘‘We know, sir…’’ Williams spoke softly, trying to peek inside. ‘‘Gh… Lieutenant Riley told us where to find you three’’

‘‘Come on in, then!’’ Soap called from inside, scrubbing vigorously a particularly nasty stain on one of the tiles. ‘‘And if you are feeling bored, you can grab a brush as well while you’re at it!’’

‘‘Leave them alone, Johnny, this is our own hole we put ourselves into’’ Riot grunted, looking at the seemingly nervous privates standing on the treshold like fools. ‘‘Well? Why were you looking for us?’’

The privates looked at each other, hemming and hawing, until Grizzly huffed and pushed Davies to the front.

‘‘Come on, it was your idea’’

‘‘You bastard’’ Davies muttered, brushing back a longer strand of their black hair. ‘‘We wanted to thank you three. For standing up for us’’

‘‘Don’t be ridiculous’’ Riot rolled her eyes, returning to her task and scrubbing the tiles even more vigorously. ‘‘It shouldn’t have happened in first place’’

‘‘She means No need to thank us’’ Soap laughed, sitting back against the wall to make another pause, with the excuse of speaking with the privates. ‘‘But she’s right on one thing, you should have come to us earlier’’

‘‘We didn’t know… I mean, they weren’t the first officers to have a problem with…’’ Davies’ voice trailed off, and their grey eyes turned to Ibekwe and Williams looking for help, but it was Grizzly the one who nudged them to continue speaking. ‘‘With how some of the others and I… identify as…’’

‘‘Por el amor de Dios (For the love of God)’’ Riot grunted, exasperated, and turned around to face the privates, ignoring the small giggle coming from Soap and Gaz’s wide smile. ‘‘Davies, I couldn’t care less about how you, or any other person, decide to identify as, go to bed with, or what’s inside their pants. You could choose to identify as a caterpillar and I would greet you everyday with Good morning, caterpillar’’

‘‘A… caterpillar…’’ Grizzly muttered, dumbfounded. Williams and Ibekwe were openly giggling, and Davies looked more relieved than anything.

‘‘Theeere she goes’’ Soap laughed, watching Riot get all worked up.

‘‘What infuriates me is the absolute lack of manners of those fucking bastards. The least amount of respect anyone should give others, and should demand for themselves, is to be addressed and treated as you choose to be. Pronouns, name, whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Es el puto mínimo, joder (It’s the fucking bare minimum, fuck)’’

‘‘English, Vega!’’ Gaz laughed, and then duck when she threw one of the soaked rags at him, still immersed in her rant.

‘‘You don’t have to conform, and if I ever slip up, you better stand up and tell me’’ She grumbled, grabbing the brush again. ‘‘Now get out of here, it’s your free day, don’t waste it with us’’

‘‘But you’re here because of…’’

‘‘Not a fucking word more, Ibekwe, or I’m giving each you a brush and put you to work. Now shoo’’

‘‘You heard the lady, away with you’’ Soap grabbed his brush again to resume working, still smiling, while Gaz escorted the privates out, reassuring them that he would make sure the two Sergeants wouldn’t tire themselves out too much. ‘‘A caterpillar? I thought you hated those’’

‘‘I hate centipedes and slugs’’ Riot huffed, scrubbing the tiles, fed up with all the scrubbing, the shower room, the privates, and in general the whole situation. ‘‘I don’t mind caterpillars as long as they’re in the trees and not on me’’

Gaz came back from the hallway, closing the door behind him, and resumed his position leaning against the wall.

‘‘It’s almost noon… We could stop and…’’

‘‘We’’ Soap mocked, threatening him with another wet rag, and Gaz laughed.

‘‘Ok, you could stop for lunch, and I’ll try and get Price to pardon you. Remember we have dinner at his home’’

‘‘If you tell Price that you’ll tell Doc that he made us scrub the showers I’m sure he’ll allow us to stop just to not have to hear her’’ Soap rose to his feet, grunting and stretching again, feeling his left knee creak. Then he walked to Riot and bent down to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her up to her feet.

‘‘Johnny!’’

‘‘Time to eat!’’

#cod oc #cod original character #call of duty original character #call of duty oc #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod fic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fic #riot vega #christine riot vega #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mctavish #soap mw2 #cod gaz #cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #cod #mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare