#and also to cut the fucking scarf lol

[snowwtrapped34]

for some reason I just got a random urge to put on my Snufkin cosplay again

#and also to cut the fucking scarf lol #ITS SO LONG #snufkin #moomin #moomins #the moomins #moominvalley

[deadghosy]

WHERE PENGUIN! READER WILL LIVE IN:

Pt5 of Penguin! Reader x Hazbin Hotel

Prompt: The aftermath of the court is where you decided where to live

Note: this will be the final part of the series lol. Sorry if the sections are short, I tried to make it long with the bullet points just being some. 💗

“The court has spoken. The rightful place the reader belongs in, is……” sera say opening her mouth to announce the news.

HELL

Lucifer is fucking happy that sera said that would go with them. Charlie has tears dropping out her eyes as she finally is relived to have you by her side and kingdom. Adam was pissed as he thrown papers on the ground. Lute is screaming mentally as her heart breaks.

Back in hell, every one does a celebration party. You get a bandanna with your name, the scarf wrapped around your neck has the name of Y/N Morningstaryou are officially in the family. Welcome to hell.

Literally you get all the food you love in a week of celebrating before they monitor what you eat 💗

Charlie is such an older sister vibe as she shows you the ropes of being royalty as she gives you an allowance. Which you totally didn’t spend in cookies and cakes. But matter of most is that she even shows you how to run the hotel while you just quack at things from afar. Overall her protective rate is 5/10.

Lucifer may be happy and relived that you can be in hell with him. But he is still worried about your safety in hell as he watches you closely and even has razzle and dazzle to look after you. It’s cute and all for you. But for others, they can tell this man baby’s you so much to the point he even gets you to bed like one. Overall his protective level is 100/10

Vaggie loves teaching you how to use her spear in case the exterminators try to kidnap you. She is always the one who watches you on the playground to make sure you are okay. Her protective rate is 9/10

Husk is the damn grumpy drunk uncle who only has a soft spot for you as you aren’t annoying and is pure. Literally you aren’t a bad kid as you just help clean glasses. PST, he actually bought plastic looking glasses so you won’t cut yourself on accident. Plus he appreciates that you want to help him. It’s just you are so small and he is bigger than you. Overall his protective level is 7.5/10

Angel is like that older brother who knows how to hide bruises. And of course we know why…but like past that imagine you bruised your whole ass knee and you didn’t want anyone to worry for you so you went to angel. He chuckled and took care of it. You are such a cutie that he kisses your head and sends you off. Overall his protective level is 7/10

Alastor loves teaching you about his radio station. He even takes you as a co-host and a regular guest as he makes you quack out a song. 💗 some awesome uncle and nephew/niece moments as he also makes you tea if you can’t sleep. His protective rate is 8.5/10

And the rest of hell, they love you equally as somewhat you bring hope in hell to have them redeemed as they visit the hotel to see you and meet you. Hell, the other deadly sins met you and were in awe at how cute you were. Beelzebub was immediately starstruck as she feeds you some of the best food in hell.

So in the end, you love being in the royal family of the Morningstars. It’s peaceful in the hotel with you around as Angel can now get a lot of days off💗

HEAVEN

Adam is immediately flipping off the two demon royals as he lifts you up in his arms. “SUCK IT BITCHES AHAH!” Adam yells pulling you close to his pudgy body as lute is flipping them off from behind the first man as the two demon royals are sent back in hell.

After exiting court, you are met with getting ice cream with the two angels who were fighting with the demon royals verbally. Adam got you [favorite flavor] ice cream as lute just smiles smugly happy to have you here with them.

Adam has gotten use to you not leaving him like how his other ex-wives did. He won’t admit he feels insecure about you leaving him. But with you now being property of heaven and you living with him personally. He feels like he might actually have a loved one with him. It’s not like romantic since you take form of a gah damn actually penguin. It’s more of a platonically close friendship. He finds you alluring at how sweet you are to others. Even if Adam isn’t. Overall his protective meter is 9.5/10

Lute is still the same ol lute everyone knows. It’s just that she watches you from afar. Keeps tabs on you and where you go. Its like if she’s your personal bodyguard. She always love bombs you in a manipulative way. She just wants you to depend on her. I mean hell, she’s literally crazy at how pure of gold you are in heaven. Her protectiveness level is…200/10😨

Sera is a busy woman, but she keeps tabs on you too. Even sending a angelic guard to make sue you are mentally okay and not unstable of taking you away of your so called “home” down there. But she cares for you endlessly in a mother figure way. her protective meter is 5.5/10

Emily is happy regardless if you went it heaven or hell. This girl literally take you shopping with her as she get you a cute sailor like outfit for your delivery job. She even makes you your own damn basket to give cookies to your regulars with their mail. Overall, this sweet girl’s protective meter 4/10

St. Peter sends you cookies on weekends as it’s the days that you aren’t working as the adorable penguin delivery boy. 💗 St. Peter checks up on you as well as you are just staying home and he comes by just to see if you are liking to live in heaven for years now.

You live with Adam as he and you have some kind of relationship were he wants to look after you. Literally it’s oddly sweet this man has a change of heart kind of. He literally will try to cook only for you to burn out the fire in the kitchen. He’s ordering gah damn take out.

See, me personally you’re still getting stalked a bit from yandere! Lute as she smile smugly seeing you in heaven everyday and replaying the son of bitches face when you got to stay in heaven with them.

The amount of times angels in heaven have gifted you lots of grift baskets for the custody of heaven. It’s crazy as it’s whole bunch of fans just celebrating you staying 💗 it’s sweet but crazy.

Overall you still got your job as a paper delivery person and you get watched 24/7 every day. From afar….😨 but all you know is that you are safe in heaven still missing the people below them.

BOTH

Heaven and hell is shocked, what I mean by that is Lucifer and Adam being shocked. Adam is immediately yelling out profanities at how this is “complete bullshit”. Emily and Charlie did a mutual nod to each other not hating or liking this idea as it seems clear and fair to share you 50/50 like divorce parents.

After court, it was time to hang out with hell only to go heaven for the next day. 😭 honestly, you could stay in hell for a week and go to heaven for another whole week☝🏾😕

Adam gets so salty seeing Lucifer pick you up and take you through the portal to hell. Lute just scowls walking away. Meanwhile Lucifer is still salty as well to share you, he has to be mature as Charlie was just excited to have you the whole week.

HONESTLY IF ITS VALENTINE’S DAY, YOU GET SO MUCH CHOCOLATE AND TEDDY BEARS FROM HEAVEN AND HELL. OMG IMAGINE YOUR BIRTHDAY 😱😨LEGIT A WHOLE CARTOON ASS BIRTHDAY-

You still sleep in Lucifer’s bed when you stay in hell, but there is still a spare room for you. And for heaven you sleep directly in the same room as Adam as he snores holding your chubby and round fluffy body.

Thanks to @gineazu for the idea of this schedule of them sharing reader.

Hell has reader on mondays Wednesday's Friday's and sundays. As heaven has them on tuesdays thursdays and Saturdays like a true ass divorce. But just like I said you could also spend a whole week in hell and another whole week in heaven. And it could repeat.

LMAO JUST IMAGINE THE AWKWARDNESS WITH ADAM HAVING SUNGLASSES WAITING FOR YOU AS LUCIFER IS TEACHING YOU HOW TO CALL HIM IN CASE ADAM TRIES TO “abuse” you 😭😭

You’re literally eating nuggets in the hotel’s lobby until a busted down wall happens as a golden light shines. “Kid, pack ya shit. The shit lord didn’t bring you to me on time.” Says Adam with sunglasses and chewing bubble gum. Lucifer came from the kitchen having lemonade for you only to drop it seeing Adam. “What are YOU doing here!” He exclaims seeing the first man. Adam smirks, “I’m here to collect the bird brain. Duh?” “It’s literally only been 2 days?!” Lucifer retorts.

Yeahh…at first Adam had a problem being clingy towards you and wanting to stay in the blue skies with him.

Honestly it’s funny how Lucifer is the mom who wants to scam the father to make it seem he is abusive as Adam is just a guy trying to be the fun dad. It’s literally tug of war for your affection for crying out loud- 😭

“HAVE YOU SEEN SMILEY?” Is basically the song to describe your relationship between the two places of heaven and hell. It’s so painfully tooth aching and wholesome.

It’s nice spending time with your people in hell and heaven. Like literally it’s cool how you still got your delivery job in hell and heaven at most. Overall you are just happy seeing both of your so proclaimed friends and family. ‼️💗❤️🦆

A/N: I did this because I couldn’t choose lol 💗 hope you guys like this as everyone gets their own happy ending

taglist: @zamadness @ilovelyneysm07 @listenerchan @equkki @ambersison-allejo @froggybich @hah-simp-acc-2 @aria-tempest @chefysawesomeideas @angela075905 @loyx2 @libraryraccoon @indom-eclipse @simpcreator @caffieneaddictt18

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel hell #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel x penguin! reader #hazbin hotel x penguin #hazbin hotel x animal #hazbin hotel adam

[em-prentiss]

Ice cold

————

In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

————

The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you. 

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth. 

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says. 

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt. 

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice. 

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place. 

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out. 

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.  

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up. 

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state. 

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows. 

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in. 

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?” 

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again. 

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

#emily is crying in the club lmfaoo #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #soft aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabble

[erisenyo]

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

#Hakoda is so proud of himself #He is going to get a good grade in Dad and in remembering his son's interests and hobbies #A thing that is possible to get and desirable to achieve #Sokka and Zuko are quietly dying and Hakoda is just there like 🙃 #asks and answers #prompt games #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Hakoda #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

[toffeebrew]

Ink sans headcanons!

Disclaimer: I don't claim anything to be canon. Although, I tried to make sure it didn't conflict with canon for the most part. Erm, I also didn't check the tag before I made this, so of any these are canon/popular hcs i didn't know before making this.

Ink has something similar to a bag of holding tied to his belt. He picks up little trinkets in the aus he visits (something small, of course, like a flower!) It can hold an endless amount of objects. It also stands as as way of reminding him of where hes been and who he's met! he puts any gifts he gets there as well.

He has this weird ability that if you point at something he knows the exact hex code and color name it is. Why? Not even he knows, but it may be a creator giving him knowledge somehow thing.

For his paints? They all taste a little different. They taste like, something? But the exact flavor is so vague it's "hard for him to describe". If anything, they taste like a whole bunch of flavors at once. A little overwhelming to the palate. They all differ in sensation as well, fizzy, smooth, milky etc.

(more yapping under the cut)

Consistency wise, they both smell and have the thickness of acrylic paint. Specifically that kinda watery acrylic paint you can get for cheap at a store (like apple barrel).

Each of his vials has three dosages. One vial is like daily usage. But they can sometimes run out unevenly depending on how bad/good that day is (ex: on an extremely bad day, he has to take more of a positive emotions) so he had extra markings to "top off". Given there's no consistent time frame hes in, he just takes them whenever he wakes up. [ note: this particular headcanon was partially inspired by @/the-local-eldritch-microwave headcanon lol ↓]

He can actually last maybe about few days without his vials, but his emotions just become duller after 24-48 hrs. Taking a sharp decline after about 72 hrs. Their mobility and mental health declines with it as well, so he'd rather not wait for the decline to start! haha unless he got stuck in some situation where he had no choice!!! :D haha

He tried chugging all his vials at once for experimentation! He vomited everywhere. He'll not be attempting that again. Too much at once...

He has a reallllyyyy long scarf so he has enough room for all of his notes. It drags behind him and also dramatically blows behind him when there's a draft. It tracks stuff in it, due to its length. The bottom of his scarf is all colorful because of all the crap hes tracked in it! LOL

If he ever needed it, he'd add more fabric to the end for more notes. I guess eventually it would get cartoonishy long. At least, until it became completely impossible to manage.

On that topic, hes actually quite messy. Although, its more in a "organized chaos" sorta way. He knows where everything is, even if you don't. hes also MESSY not dirty very clear distinction!

In my mind the reason Ink would have a gap tooth in my version is when he was a "sketch" his teeth were more uh implied? So when he's born (how the hell would you word that? conceived? idk) he now has a permanent gap tooth.

#headcanons #inktale #ink sans #inkechos #← i think thats the right tag #sans au #headcanon #undertale au #utmv #utmv ink #all of this is imo ofc #i love talking about this man #love him sm #i want to implement some of my headcanons into his design #but I'm not quite sure how to do it yet #ink sans headcanons #emetophobia #ig? #utmv headcanons #sans au headcanons #toffeesbrews

[spidereggs888]

Miguel’s new secretary ooh-la-la

(lol /j 💀)

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

This is a loooong read so make sure you have time or something. Also, there’s an illustration in the middle of the chapter! Enjoy

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

MIGUEL & YOU

ACT 1 | ALGORITHMIC LOTTERY

It's the year 2110.

You are maneuvering through traffic in a sputtery fashion, the lifter problem in your engine getting so bad it almost sounds like you got rocks under the hood. The podcast is going on about alligators in Nueva York sewers.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” you mumble, “there’s CROCODILES in the sewers, not alligators.”

You aren’t looking forward to this interview. How the heck did you manage an audition for office secretary to the CEO of Alchemax?!

“I don’t know,” you say aloud to your other self, “but if I get the job, Imma upgrade to a better ride than this heap of Maglev shit…”

But there’s other bitches who want this position. Two of them you are aware of: Syd and Brody. Syd is a real suck up who will say any damn thing to get the position. She out-groveled you and got the lead PR accounting job you wanted. Suck-up Syd is what you call her around your friends. Brody on the other hand is opposite; he thinks he can strong-arm his way into anything and he pretty much has. He’s kicked people down, screwed people over, and there’s a rumor he filed a sexual harassment charge on his friend Ashton just to get the promotion before Ashton could.

These two skanks are gonna be tricky, but that’s the least of why you loathe this whole thing. You also heard that Miguel O’Hara is a hard ass. When he came into power a few years ago, he immediately fired the former secretary for talking about his father in a positive light. Then he proceeded to chew and spit out people who ever had the misfortune of being in that job position.

“Or maybe they just cut their losses after raking in half a billion,” your friend Speshall guessed the last time you seen her, “they prolly couldn’t take the heat for that long so they waited until they were set for life then said something stupid on purpose to get him to let them go. What a retirement plan! To work for the sexiest man of the year then have him berate you on your way out!”

She was always like this.

Anyway, now your car is not being validated in the automated parking center.

“What the HELL?!”

“Sorry, your credit has been declined.”

“Oh fuck me-“

You fumble your lanyard of data sticks. You are looking for the green one, which has a small amount of credit you procured from test playing phone games. You lean out of your car window to bring the green stick drive near the wireless reader.

“Sorry, we cannot accept credit from online gambling. Please use another method of payment.”

“Oh fuck you!”

≋ ≋ ≋ ≋

Now you are walking. You had to park where they don’t give a shit about where your money is from. Alchemax is trying to create a good precedent by not accepting dirty money, but Alchemax, as far as you know, does dirtier stuff for pay. Why the hell is “gambling money” any different?!

Scowling so hard, you almost didn’t notice there’s some douchebag trying to walk close behind you. He probably saw the lanyard of data sticks around your neck, so you fluff your scarf around until they are covered.

“I don’t have any money, muh guy” you say in your heaviest Nueva York accent along with this generations lingo.

“Oh I’m not afta you. I was tryna tell ya there’s this otha weirdo following ya. I’m tryna group up here.”

You know better than to look back. That’s what this fucko wants you to do. He’s probably a flasher, so you walk into traffic.

“Hey that’s dangerous, yo!”

You don’t listen. Cars flying past is not as scary as going up to see the freakin CEO of Alchemax.

No cars hit you, so now you have to face reality. You walk into the Alchemax Business Bureau building (one of hundreds), and wave your ID at the receptionist in the lobby. The receptionist is preoccupied with a lady who has one hand on her hip and the other holding out a holo watch. It’s projecting a screen with a giant hourglass animation flipping over and over.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to get a damn cup of coffee around here, I just don’t!”

“C’mon it’s not necessary to bring security here, ma’am.”

He remains standing behind his desk and grimaces at you. You really need to get him to validate your ID so you won’t be stopped by security, so you pull up your phone and say to the woman, “you want some coffee coupons for Dunkin Donuts?”

“What?”

You open your savings app and hastily air-swipe several coupons to her holo device like someone flicking bills at a stripper. She stops to look at them.

“A regular frap for half off? Oh woooow, how- will they really honor this?” She asks.

“Yeah! It’s good for two more days, so you may wanna hurry over to the kiosk at the west end.”

“Really?”

“They sell all brands of coffee, they’ll honor it.”

“Well, nevermind, then,” she says curtly to the receptionist as she turns her shoulder away, “Didn’t want hours-old coffee anyway.”

She turns on her fancy heel and trots away. You grin stupidly at the receptionist who rolls his eyes and snatches your ID card from you. He swipes it near his card reader then flicks it back without a word.

After a nod, you swiftly leave down the lobby to the elevator area. You round the corner and see an open elevator closing. It's the only one since the other two are under construction. You rush forward as fast as your legs will allow.

"Wait wait WAIT WAIT!"

The doors are closing and you see the face of Suck-up Syd with her smoky eyes and faux fur capelet. She smiles and does nothing as the doors close.

"Shocking typical," you grumble. But you know where the other elevator is. You take off to the other end of the building for the second set of elevators.

You make it onto the elevator with two other people, some white chick and an Indian dude. The lady sees your pass.

"Going for the secretary job?" She asks.

"Yeah."

“Me too. If I don’t get this, I’m going to jump from this building,” the lady jokes.

“If I get this, I WILL jump from this building,” you add.

“Either way, it's gonna be job security for the custodian department,” the Indian guy says. All three of you chuckle politely.

The elevator lets more people in. You check your phone. You are fucking late by 20 minutes, but so is the lady who wants this job or else. You assume it would have taken a while anyway, since there was about 15 people going in for this very same job. Could it be you?! Could you land this job?! What if your mom was wrong?! And what if O’Hara says yes? What if you are set for life?

The final floor of this elevator is reached. You wobble on your way out. The lady doesn’t move.

“Actually, I can’t do this. I’m going home.”

The elevator doors close and she goes back down. You hear a faint byeeeeeeeeeee as the elevator descends to lower levels. You pay no heed and follow the Indian man into the massive hall.

There’s already chaos. One guy is being escorted out of the lobby by his shirt collar, and he's spouting obscenities. Some lady had dropped all her paperwork and she’s too numb to pick it up again. Two ladies near her are sarcastically wishing each other luck, one of them is Suck-up Syd. She looks 10x more desperate today with her tight-fitting outfit and belt buckle the size of a plate. Her overly fake smile gives you no esteem or hope. You almost sit but realize there’s barf on the chair.

Okay, surely everyone is overreacting in here.

“Man I’m not scared at all. There’s a trick to facing down Alpha males,” says a guy who you didn’t ask.

“Ah, cool.” you say through a grin. It’s Brody. You don’t even have to see him to know he’s there with his overwhelming presence of snobbery.

“See, as a Sigma male,” he continues, leaning on the back of the barf chair to talk to you, “I don’t adhere to the Alpha’s orders. That’s how the pack survives! One guy is an outlier so like if the Alpha fails in his role as leader, the Sigma will show by example and the rest of the females and Betas will follow him-“

“BRODY!”

You and Brody see Ashton in the doorway you came from. Ashton beelines across the room with his briefcase raised high. He brings it down on Brody with a loud clunk and they grapple and exchange blows. You go ahead and sit down perfectly still.

"Oh my GOD!" Suck-up Syd muses. She only sees this as two less competitors. You wince as the men start yelling obscenities at each other in their struggle. The guards who took out the last guy come back in and see this happening and they both huff angrily.

"Next!"

"Ah, that's me!" Syd says, “you guys are welcome to leave, I probably got this in the bag.”

She gets up and thrusts her capelet onto the lobby assistant.

.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳ ˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.

Four hours pass. Brody and Ashton were escorted from the building, those bozos didn’t even get an interview, but it was funny watching Brody get dragged down to hell by a demon he wronged.

Suck-up Syd walked out in tears and a forced smile. You felt bad for making fun of her in the past. She’s just kinda desperate and a little pathetic. You assume groveling doesn't work on the boss.

Other people came and went swiftly. The cheerful Indian man from earlier left looking surprised at his failure. The lady who dropped all her crap earlier apparently already had an interview and was reeling from her bad luck. You understand their disappointment since being chosen for this position was like winning the lottery, except you don't know if you won or not.

“Next!”

Your stomach twists but you refuse to be like them. This is just a job. You’ll be answering phones, emails, and possibly even mailing some dry cleaning. No big fuckin deal.

You thank the lobby assistant but she ignores you and walks away. She is just doing her job. She looks very tired of everyone else’s shit and is probably glad it's over. You walk to the elevator where the second to last person is taking baby-steps, talking on his phone with someone nursing his wounded pride. That could be you in a minute.

I'm probably not gonna get it either, you think, but I'm going down with some dignity.

You work yourself up as you step into yet another elevator, this one glass paneled. You stare across Nueva York as you ascend, contemplating your future. So what if you don't make it? You will simply fall back to your job and go about your life. Your mom will say she's right about the invitation being a fluke. You will go back to paying off debts and supplementing your food budget by testing mobile phone games during work hours and before you go to sleep. You see your own reflection, no longer as young as you used to be, and you sigh.

The glass doors open behind you. You walk through another set of foggy glass doors. Despite your self pep talk, you are still not looking forward to this. You've seen pictures of Miguel O'Hara before; over 6 feet tall, wide shoulders that could support an ox yoke, and a presence so large one would think he could go toe to toe with Godzilla. How will the interview go? You imagine fire. You expect a demon sitting behind a black marble desk in the darkness, a horrendous mob boss wearing Scarface attire, spitting fiery facts and passing cruel judgment, his horns ascending at the heavens with searing indifference and contempt for mercy. You expect a fax machine in the corner that will print out your death.

This is not what you see.

There he is, in this meager temp office sitting behind a tiny desk covered in empty water bottles. His shoulders are wider than the desk, but he's scrunching them in to seem normal. He's wearing a regular dress shirt, no tie. No fancy jewelry either, just some off-brand oversized watch on his left wrist. He looks disappointed already, but not at you. He’s squinting down at some of the tiny desks’ interactive holo-projections. You see your name on one of the files he’s peering at through comically large anti glare glasses.

You don’t sit. You are too stressed. He hasn’t noticed you. He picks up one of the water bottles and carefully opens it with his monster hands. They look travel-sized compared to him. He sips it and notices you.

“Hello!” You greet.

He finishes it in two gulps and sets it down slowly, as to not disturb the other bottles.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time left, so let’s cut through here… you work for the guys in the PR department-“

“Ah yeah, they are a very friendly bunch down there! That is until you get to know them!” You blurt out. He looks up at you with tired eyes and swipes through the files without looking at them.

“Says here you were demoted from vice head PR accounting a while back, but you attached a note saying you have an alibi? Let’s hear it.”

“Uhhh.”

“C’mon I don’t have all day.”

“There was a payment discrepancy, uh, I was given a raise but I noticed my boss didn’t update it for a whole month. He was on vacation and wasn't answering my calls, so... since he left the finances to me I updated it myself… And I got into trouble BUT it was technically not embezzlement, so I was given an ultimatum to either move to a lower department or get fired, so-“

“Self-reliant. Got it. There's a note from your current department head saying she's been notified anonymously that you've been paying for Alchemax home services with gambling money, what do you have to say about that?"

"I- that is a th- thing with SoloGameMedia, ah, they are a parent company to a gambling franchise, therefore every transaction from them is registered as gambling profit- but I test games with- from them directly! It's a side hustle- thing, I- that, I DO NOT playtest games during work hours! Only on-"

"Why do you think I should hire you?”

You are caught off guard by the most basic interview question.

“Hhhhhh WELL… because you need a secretary now?”

He’s already looking back down at the files again. You can see NYPD files, apparently he’s now looking at your small criminal record. You also notice his shirt is unbuttoned on the top. For curiosity's sake, you discreetly raise up on your toes to see down his cleavage. It's deeper than you expected. One mighty flex and that shirt will send buttons flying everywhere. He looks back up as you quickly drop back down on your heels.

“Yeah. Mmm. Ok. So you are way in over your head in college and credit debt, you have been gambling as a means to get by- really don’t care about that, and you did not dispute your boss's ultimatum when you had the chance."

"Wait, what?"

"Four years ago, when your boss gave you the ultimatum to get demoted or get fired. His proposal was ILLEGAL."

Your gut twists.

"That- that was illegal?!"

"You had six months to report him and you didn't. Why?"

"Be- because I just thought he was being fair, I-"

"I'm sorry, but you got screwed."

He looks sincere behind those nerdy lenses with his pout lips. You really want to throw something right now.

“I… oh…”

"Look, the most I can do is re-open your case," he says as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge, "You might get a small settlement out of it, but even that isn't guaranteed."

"So... I'm not getting the job?"

"How do you expect to get hired with such an unexceptional history of white collar crime and a meek attitude that's gotten you nowhere? Hey Lyla? Is this all we have?”

An AI assistant pops up from the interactive desk.

“This is the last one, sir.”

“Okay, cool. Look I’m sure you’re actually great at your job, but I have places to be-“

“Wha- well so do I!”

“Uh huh, nice talking to you,“ he scoots his chair back and hits his knee on the tiny desk, sending empty bottles scattering all over the room. He cringes.

“Well if I’m so unexceptional, why was I accepted for an interview?!”

“I’m gonna guess because of some algorithmic lottery? Probably to do with the amount of experience you have in your department, I dunno,” He guesses as he attempts to gather the bottles by sweeping them under the desk with his shoes, “If you wanna blame someone for the short interview time, thank those other time-wasters who came before you. I gotta go.”

“Now WAIT a… minute”

He stands up from his tiny desk as you say that. He’s towering over you with a tired expression and loose strands of hair about his face.

“What?” He asks, all friendliness gone.

“Can we continue this interview at a different time? You obviously haven’t found a secretary you want, but you still need one, right?! I could be the one you need even if I’m not the one you want!”

It takes every inch of your being to not slap yourself on the forehead. He is scrunching his nose, squinting down at you with mild contempt. You get a good look at his sharp, broad temples and cheekbones, complete with a hardened jaw. His thick dark lips are pulled to one side in annoyance and are accentuated with a pair of jowls that look poised to bite at any time like some kind of deep sea angler fish. His eyes are very dark. They almost look red…

His expression goes blank as he sighs.

“Okay.”

“Great! Ah, when?!”

“Tomorrow, same time.”

“Grabsolutely- Great- fantastic! I won’t let you down!”

“Uh huh.”

He leaves. You assume you should leave too. You awkwardly follow him. He grabs his coat off a nearby chair, and you get a brief display of his amazing body shape as he flips the coat over his shoulders. You avert your attention to the floor, already feeling disrespectful after having looked down his shirt. Now you are both in the elevator. You are doing all in your power not to pass out over your small lucky break.

O’Hara pretends you aren’t there as he looks at his phone and chats with his AI assistant.

“Lyla, push the evening meeting to tomorrow as well, except an hour earlier.”

“Roger that!”

“I need coffee.”

“Roger that also!”

“Please, PLEASE tell them to not add cream. I really hate when they do that.”

You wanna ask him if he’s lactose intolerant but you already pushed your luck today.

Apparently he is exiting the building in the same way you are going, but he's booking it with long ass strides and it's difficult to keep up. You both end up on the same elevator again, this time with other people. He awkwardly acknowledges you with a blank smirk and brow raise, then promptly looks back down at his phone. Everyone else is trying not to bother him.

"Hello, Mister O'Hara, I didn't realize you were here! Hi!" says a lady who is shooting her shot at a social connection (she totally knew he was there.)

"Ah, hey. Miss...?"

"Stacy Brian! We met at the Student Festival earlier this year."

"Oh, right, right! Miss Brian, how are you?"

"Doing well! I didn’t know you wore glasses!"

"Oh- I totally forgot these were on my face," he admits while taking them off and trying to find a place to stash them, "I actually don’t wear glasses, it's- um, I have issues with bright computer screens."

You discreetly watch him in the elevator wall reflection as he quickly swaps the lenses out for a pair of red sunglasses. The elevator doors open and everyone flows out into the foyer. You realize you never got his card.

"Hey one more thing, sir!" You call out to him.

"What?"

"I don't have your number! What if we need to reschedule?!"

"Ah, right. Get your phone out, please."

He turns back around and searches for something on his phone. With a swift flick of his hand, he air drops his ID and number to your device.

"Thank you!"

"¡De nada!"

He swiftly leaves through the front doors and trots down the steps. You watch this huge marvel of nature hail a cab. The automated transporter car is so small that he has to bring his shoulders in tight to fit through the doorway. This seems to have more to do with him not wanting to snag his nice jacket.

A man of this position and wealth... hailing a cab? Must be in THAT much of a hurry. You look down at the data he sent you. His ID photo looks like they took his picture after pulling an all-nighter, and his half-hearted smile reveals his crooked teeth. But somehow he still looks great in an unconventional way.

•°《💀》°•

You drive home, feeling both anxious and also deflated. Miguel O'Hara was a mixed bag of what you expected. Speshall hyped him up as a sexy hunk of the year and Brody felt so intimidated that he went on an unwarranted Alpha Male rant, but the guy was so awkward with his tiny desk and water bottles and weird glasses, and he was whining to his AI helper about his coffee. He’s a large… finicky… lactose-intolerant nerd, but he's also got the moxy to move mountains. What’s more, now ya gotta think of what to say to him in the next interview. What could be expected of a guy like that? What if he cancels the meeting and your chance is lost forever?

Your car makes it home and you sit in it for a moment. Speshall left you a text asking about the interview.

Went weird, you text back.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets.

You open your car door and notice you've been parked over the grates again. You remember when you last dropped your phone in this spot, the fucking thing went right in between the grate holes and you couldn’t get it back for a week. You have the presence of mind to upload the latest bit of information (O'Hara's phone number) to your data cloud.

You walk through the parking garage. You know all the safe routes. It didn’t matter who you were, Nueva York was never safe at night.

You hear footsteps to your left but it’s just a couple of people walking together, a man and woman trying to huddle. The garage opening is just ahead. You go ahead and march out, not looking back.

You step out into the warm breeze of middle-class Nueva York. The wind is artificial, billowing from the hydro-electric plants that keeps this city running. It took you forever to get here, a lot of cheap-skating, white lies, and debt piling to maintain this life, but you are here! Unapologetic holo screens buzz near you as you walk, begging you to spend money as they light up the way to your apartment. There's no point in tapping their "no" buttons since that just wastes your time. The screens showcased brand-new cars, beautiful clothes, and radiant health. If you had more money, at least some of that could be yours. You hate that people roll around in all the wonderful things this world has to offer while you have to make do with decade old clothing and over-processed food. Where the hell is everyone getting it all from? When the hell will you get yours?

“Hey! Wanna buy a shared data cloud?!”

You are now being bothered by a salesman. You say nothing and keep walking. Even saying no opens more dialogue. He gives up but another comes at you.

“Wanna be a part of the elite task force that edits any and all articles about Thor?! It’s a paying job! $100 an hour!”

As dystopian as it sounds, $100 an hour won’t get you far in Nueva York, not in this era of quadrillionaires.

“Hey, I saw ya on da street earlier! Ya walked into traffic!”

You accidentally glance over at the familiar voice talking about the familiar subject. He’s got you. Your eyes are fixated on a creepypasta face, his irises flashing in a hypnotic pattern. This was way worse than the idea of the guy being just a flasher.

He’s a black market demon. The worst street hawker known to man.

You can’t remember much else besides him taking you by the hand and leading you away.

_________________________________________

Next: ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #kinda #not really #more like awkward turtle #MIGUEL & YOU #Spiderman 2099 fanfic #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n

[novantinuum]

how it's goin (cosplay edition)

the chaos continues. literally spent 8 hours at my table today sewing a belt for the amity cosplay, adapting pattern pieces, cutting out pattern pieces, pinning pattern pieces, and hemming a shirt

also yes that's the unglued pieces of my shield back there, that shit's being an annoying little fuck to me ugh and so is the weather (can't contact cement on my back porch if it's raining)

it's very much shield v.1.0, because i had no idea what i'm doing with the vinyl and there's bubbles fucking everywhere now that i have to pop one by one with a tiny needle. this will be my rush ECCC shield and eventually i'll do something else. something that's... probably not gonna be covered in vinyl. like ughh i'll just dye it or whatever, maybe.

but yeah the pinned top looks decent with the hemmed shirt so far so. i'll take it.

tomorrow's job is to cement my fucking shield and cut out all the fabric pieces for my pants. the pants will be a bit crunchier, because i need to put pockets in them and i have no fucking idea how to do pockets, but i guess i'll just emulate what i see in my jeans and figure it out...?

also amity is basically done. this pic was taken before i finished my actual belt (that's just a scarf i wrapped around my waist lol) but style the wig and add some light makeup/winged liner and i'll be golden. i think this will be a really nice and cozy costume to wear around for day one, can't wait!

#jen rambles

[ktlsyrtis]

I've finally slept off enough of the jet lag to piece together some semi-coherent thoughts about last weekend.

First and foremost, it was so wonderful to get to see and talk to so many internet pals in person. Sharing this whirlwind experience with @seahorsepencils, @batnbreakfast, @starfleetwitch, @akaanonymouth, @iordio, @elphiessolsikke, and @ariverandasong is something I'm going to treasure always

(the rest is under the cut because this got long 😅)

Octopolis:

I have never been in a theater as small as the Hampstead. It is literally no bigger than my living room, with only two rows of seats around three sides. So when I tell you that Jemma was RIGHT THERE you can get a sense of what I mean lol.

Truly the wildest part was the moment of this person who you've seen on screen so many times suddenly being a real human person in front of you. Like I think my brain broke for the first few minutes of the show 😅. From that point forward it was just sitting back and taking in how engaging, funny and gorgeous she is in person. There were a few lines and moments in that show which will live rent free in my head forever. Especially what a huge dork of a dancer she is 😂

Afterwards the group of us waited in the cafe to say hello. When she came upstairs she excused herself for a bit because her brother and his family were there to see the show that night, which was very sweet, and then she came over to talk to us on her way out.

I know it sounds trite, but she really is just the sweetest, loveliest person. She took the time to talk to everyone and was so kind and engaged. I was able to give her the scarf I made for her. When she found out I knit it she was like "Really? Why would you do that for me??" 😂

The highlight of the evening came courteous of @seahorsepencils, who had seen the show the night before and told Jemma that a group of Berena fans was coming the next day.

Some actors might've been like 'oh god' and run for the back door. Others might make a big show about dressing up for their public. Not Jemma, oh no.

Meeting her was so overwhelming that I didn't notice at first. But while she was talking to someone else it suddenly clicked that she was wearing Bernie's pink coat! (I think I almost ripped @starfleetwitch's arm off when I realized lol) Slowly, the rest of what she was wearing sunk in:

Pink coat? Check. Black skinny jeans? Check. Sweater over a button down? Check. Chelsea boots? Check.

That's right friends. Jemma Redgrave, glorious dork that she is, FUCKING COSPLAYED BERNIE WOLFE FOR US!!!!!!

Honestly my biggest regret of the whole trip was that in the whirlwind of everything we didn't take a picture with her. Fortunately some other fan was there that night and got some photographic proof:

(yes, she is holding the scarf I made; no, I will not be able to be normal about it lol) (also when we told her we were going to Catherine's show the next day she said to "give her my love" 😍)

Great Expectations:

Another day, another incredible UK theater. The Royal Exchange is a gorgeous venue; much larger than Hampstead, but still very intimate. We were able to get seats in the front row banquettes for the matinee, which was an amazing experience.

Catherine on stage is...the only thing I can think of is a force of nature. Her sheer presence made it seem like she was a foot taller than the rest of the cast and she owned the stage every time she was on it. On top of that, she somehow she managed to make racist, decrepit Miss Havisham really hot??? Which is a contradiction my brain still hasn't been able to fully reconcile lol

Because of all the work that goes into her makeup she understandably didn't stage door after the matinee. Fortunately some of us also had plans to go to the evening show.

This time around my seat turned out to be on the aisle where she made all of her entrances and exits, which meant she was literally inches away from me every. single. time. (shoutout again to @starfleetwitch who was sitting directly across the aisle and therefore on the receiving end of many a gay-panicked stare on my part 😅)

It was a rainy day in Manchester and the official stage door is outside with no overhang, so we took a chance and hung around in the cafe/bar area after the show. We figured that Catherine going to the bar was as likely as the sun rising in the east lol

Fortunately the chance paid off - she came out to the cafe to have drinks with a couple of her costars and was kind enough to come talk to us (after asking if we could talk in the bar so she could get a glass of wine of course 😂)

I have to tell you friends, I have very little recollection of what I said from this point forward lol. Truly talking to her was like having some kind of out of body experience. There were a couple of specific moments that are burned in my memory

I gave her the shawl I made for her, and she immediately flung it around her neck and wore it for the rest of the night *cue internal screaming and flailing*

When we told her we'd seen both shows that day, her response was "Oh god why?? It's bad enough having to be in it twice"

I don't know if she like bathes in the blood of children or something, but her skin is FLAWLESS. Literally she looks 10 years younger in person with no makeup on, its insane. Also her eyes are just as sparkly as you think they are, and when she makes eye contact it is A LOT

She asked if we all wanted to take a picture and proceeded to put her arm around me ☠️☠️☠️

She spent a good amount of time talking to us and was just as lovely, funny, and ridiculous as I could've hoped lol. In particular she mentioned how happy it makes her that Berena has taken on such a life beyond Holby and that we've all made such wonderful friends because of it.

After we let her go to talk to her cast mates, I somehow poured myself into a seat in the bar and someone got me a much needed gin as we all tried to unpack what had just happened. At some point she came back into the bar and went out of her way to come over and talk to us again (she basically appeared right next to me, and when I tell you the sheer relief that it was in the 30 seconds I wasn't spouting my usual girl crush bullshit about her 😅)

...

The rest of the trip was sub-optimal, bordering on karmic retribution lol. The tire on our rental car blew out on the M1 on our way back to London, and what should have been a 4 hour drive came out closer to 9, when all was said and done. At that point there was only time to eat, sleep, and catch the plane home

I may not have had as much time to see everyone and to spend in London as I had hoped, but I have zero regrets about the trip. It was truly a once in a lifetime experience and I'm so, so glad I went

And the most important life lesson:

#catherine russell #jemma redgrave #fandom life #honestly i mostly wrote this to help prove to my brain it was real lol

[bigoltrashpile]

Rereading through some of your stuff, and your sf! papyrus, Hound still makes me just go absolutely feral!!💥💥

GOD! I wanna pin him to the wall so damn bad! (If he's ok with it of course xjhdjs)

Wanna pin him and tenderly kiss on his neck before finding a nice spot and Biting down. Wanna mark him up so pretty that he won't be able to hide in under scarfs.

Like I feel like he can be such a good puppy, but I'm more of a bad dog ya feel lol.

And boy howdy do I wanna bend him over something and just overstim him so bad.

WOOOO YEAH HELL YEAH GET IT HOUND!!! There's gonna be smut under the cut, obviously, this is real spicy~ Minors do not tread further istg

You sighed as you knocked on Hound's door. He had been working on some code for the past two hours, and you hadn't seen or heard anything from him for that entire time. You were getting worried. "Hound, baby, are you in there?"

No response. You knocked again, louder this time, before finally swinging the door open.

Hound was sitting in the dark, face inches from his computer screen. He seemed completely engrossed in his work. The blue light from the screen flooded his face, making his face look sharp and eerie. If it weren't for his shrimp like posture, you would be a bit intimidating.

You strode over to his side, being sure to make enough sound that you wouldn't scare him. Finally, you gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you need to take a break."

Hound jumped out of his chair. "fuck-oh my stars, angel, you scared the shit out of me!" He put a hand on his chest, like he was calming his nonexistent heart. "didja need somethin?"

"Just worried about you," you said. "You've been working on this for a while, you need a break."

Your boyfriend sighed. "i need to get this done, though. i can rest later."

"You can also finish this later." You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his chest and rested your head on his shoulder. "Or do I need to make that an order?" Your voice was low and seductive during that last sentence, and you felt him stiffen under you.

"m-maybe just a short break," he said slowly. That was all you needed to start kissing his neck. Without moving your lips from his neck, you tugged him out of his seat and pushed him against the wall. You pinned his hands against the wall next to his head.

Hound let out a small whimper. "d-darlin, please," he begged. "i need more..."

You were more than happy to oblige. You found a good spot on his neck and bit down hard.

Even though he was nothing but hard bone, Hound let out a pleasured yelp. You kissed the spot where you bit him, before grazing your teeth down his vertebrae and to his shoulder. Then, you repeated the process a few more times, finding a good spot on his neck before biting him hard.

After a few more bites, Hound was practically a puddle. The only thing keeping him standing were your hands pinning him to the wall. "angel..." he panted. "p-please, please!" You weren't sure if he knew what he was begging for, but you could give him more than he could ever ask for.

You finally let go of his wrists, and Hound slumped down. "Are you going to be my good puppy?" you purred. You grabbed the loop of his collar, pulling him towards you.

Hound nodded furiously. "i'll be good for you," he breathed, almost reverently.

"Good." You let go of the collar. "Get undressed and bend over the bed."

Hound jumped up, eagerly shedding his clothes off as he went. As he did, you went over to the door and made sure it was locked. You didn't want anyone interrupting this.

You turned around and admired Hound's now-naked form. He was lithe and lanky, but had a hidden strength in his bones. The bite marks you had given him earlier were now glowing with his magic, trying to heal the small wounds you had given him. It was beautiful.

Gently, you ran your hands down his ribs, and Hound shuddered under your touch. "What a handsome boy," you whispered. "And so obedient too."

Hound's hips bucked subconsciously, as if looking for stimulation. His hands stayed obediently on the bed, though. You stood behind him, and looped your fingers in his iliac crest. "Summon your cock for me," you ordered.

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, Hound's dick was fully summoned, already hard. You must have done a good job with him if he was this ready to go, even though you hadn't even touched him directly.

Speaking of which...he had been good. He deserved to feel good. Slowly, you began to stroke his cock, using only two fingers. He whimpered and bucked back into your touch.

You growled and scraped your nails down his back. "Don't move," you growled. "You'll take what I decide to give you."

"i-i'm sorry," the skeleton under you whined. "i just need to cum!"

"Oh, is that right?" A wicked grin spread across your face. "Then I'll make you cum~"

You began to stroke faster, using more pressure. Hound's desperate gasp only fueled you on, going faster and faster until-

"ngh-ah!" Hound let out a desperate moan as he came, shooting his cum all over your hand. His hips bucked back into your hand, but you decided to allow it this time. You slowed your pace as he came, but didn't completely stop.

As Hound calmed down, he clearly expected you to move your hand away. You didn't. As soon as he calmed down, you sped up once more. "a-angel? what-ngh-are you doing?" he panted. His hand came down to move your hand away, but you slapped it away.

"You said you wanted to cum, didn't you?" you whispered wickedly in his ear. "I'm going to make you cum, as many times as I want~" You pinned his wrist to the bed with your free hand. "You are not allowed to touch anything but this bed until I say so. Unless you want me to punish you."

Hound let out a shaky moan. "n-no, i'm sorry." His cock was already hard again under your ministrations. His hands balled up in the sheets as you made him cum once more.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

When you finally slowed down, Hound was practically a sobbing mess under you. His chest rose and fell as he was finally able to catch his breath. You moved around to his head and kissed his forehead. "How do you feel?"

Hound wasn't able to respond, but he gave you an exhausted smile. You weren't sure if he could think at all now. You kissed his teeth gently, then helped him move onto the bed. "Let's rest now," you smiled. "You deserve the sleep."

Even though his limbs were probably jelly, Hound wrapped his arms around you tight. He kissed you back. "thank you," he finally whispered.

"I love you," you smiled. "Thanks for humoring me."

"thanks for makin' me rest," he sighed back. "i needed that. He gave you a dreamy, blissed out smile. "and i love ya too."

#my garbage #writing #papyrus x reader #mafiaswapfell #hound #osha violations #undertale imagines #i hope this is everything you wanted afdkalsieruoi

[edweird-nashton]

[I LOVED IT! as per usual :^)]

[some non-askblog riddler doodles under the cut and SPOILERS for issue 3 rantings:]

[I LOVED SEEING HIM IN A SCARF LMAOOOOO i can’t even tell you why. what a choice. so fucking good.]

[and then oh my god the small Edward in this issue. seeing the rat bites on his hands :^( no… and then the fact that he chews his own nails as an adult… some kind of parallel to be drawn here.]

[on the topic of actual plot discussion, Edward kept looking particularly youthful and forelorn in this issue (prepping for issue 4 and reprocessing the orphanage?) like looking up at his vision of the Batman through the window (mirroring his conversation with Thomas Wayne!), and then his own shadowy, abandoned, child memory lingering in his room! it's a really effective way to feel disturbed and also sorrowful for him, that he could never move on or grow up.]

[and then holy those breakthrough panels when he discovers the truth. i LOVED the ending! when he finally cracked with laughter and ran out of the office and the entire panel layout changed! when he left his FIRST BATMAN NOTE! my god it was perfect. it was cathartic! (note: i tried translating the binary and it doesn't mean anything. would have been such a good idea. DC comics i'm available for hire!)]

[and one more thing…first of all, the fact that he uses emojis LOL?!?!?! but the part where he's getting insider info on Gotham Mountain Security had some serious edweird ask blog vibes. talking to anons and sending a smiley face… just like real life </3 (wait and on the topic of this… i will answer more asks, there's like 100 in the inbox but i can't bring myself to close it and catch up hahaha)]

[i'm on the edge of my seat for issue four! i NEED Edward Nashton orphanage lore!!!!!!!]

#art #answers #word of mod #anonymous

[madness-of-void]

The Cosplay Progress (?)

Okay...I'm doing it. I'm showing off the hot mess of progress of the possibly decent, or absolutely hot garbage, cosplay of my version of human!Ink. I do have a nice chunk of the items for the cosplay - just gotta put it together. Most of the putting together can be done in a day, and I have until July to finish it all, soooo...we'll see how this goes! ^^;

Now I'll just post updates maybe every other day, or once a week, since I do have most of it in hand. And it will all be under the cut, since it'll long as fuck. So, without further ado, let's begin, shall we?

First off, this is probably the most ambitious cosplay I've ever done. Normally I do something easy. Examples: Stiles from TW, casual Keith from VLD, and recently (for Halloween) genocide route Frisk. debating on positing what garbo pics i have of those

Flowerfell!Frisk? Probably the most complex I've done, and only because I had to have help make a flower crown, actually use fabric glue for the flowers and little heart on the shorts and flower on the mask , painted up a random prop stick I had lying around no idea why i had that , and did a little bit of faint make-up. And ended up with this:

bad pic i know but it's all i got of the full thing where i don't look like a drowned rat coz goddamn it was hot af

So after that, for some damned reason, I decided it would be a GREAT idea to do a difficulty jump and do Ink! Yaaaaay...I'm so smart. I have been looking at this as a reference for what I need mostly coz i had it saved on my phone already , which has been both motivation to get this done...but also a little intimidating. But I'm already too far into this. Can't back out now!

Anyways, enough rambling! Let's start with the first update on this silly thing!

HOODIE

So, firstly, I already had my eye on the Ink hoodie from Simakai (I'll properly tag once the whole thing is done). I already have the Underfell one that I used for my Flowerfell!Frisk cosplay. I also have the Outertale hoodie, bi pride hoodie, and ace pride hoodie all from Simakai! They are all amazing hoodies, and I actually just bought Epic's hoodie from their new shop! Definitely check them out! They're comfy, well made, and I'll admit I wear my Outertale and Underfell hoodies out sometimes.

The pic doesn't do it justice (hence all the millions of links above), but tada! The hoodie! My biggest worry is maybe tripping on the scarf, but I think I can manage. place your bets coz my ass clumsy

Also, there is a little surprise in it!

Twas quite the laughing jumpscare when I was messing with the pockets.

And that's it for update 1! Stay tuned for more. >:3

~+~

Update 2 time!

Apologies for how garbage the pics are for this part. Space was a mess at the time, and I'm too lazy to redo it. With that out of the way...let's ramble!

PANTS

So, next to the sash for the vials, this was surprisingly the hardest thing for me to find. I couldn't find anything that looked "just right". The first pair that I bought did look just right...but the color was way off. Way too bright from what was advertised. Took me a while to find another pair, and I actually bought two more. one of which i may use for a ftfo!ink Now, the next pair is the right color...but it's just a nice pair of sweats/joggers. Which is a bit of a bummer, but seeings how I cannot sew/make a full blown pair of pants (can barely sew at all), and my stepmom (who can sew) isn't that insanely skilled, they will have to do.

Here is a pic of the pants side-by-side coz for the longest time I was going to go with the first pair I bought. But after putting it together with the top...no. Just...no. Did not look good. You'll have to take my word for it.

And before you ask, yes. I will have assistance sewing on the little suspenders. That will be two separate posts on their own in the future! It won't be just plain brown pants.

So that's it for update 2! Stay tuned for more! if you want i ain't forcing ya lols

~+~

Update number 3! Wooooo!

And it is actually really boring.

Like...royally boring. sorry?

GLOVES

So these were a bit easy to get. Granted, I did buy two pairs, because I couldn't decided initially. It was only after trying them on that I could make a decision.

They are a bit long, but I can live with that. especially coz I am not planning on doing the tatts, that would end terribly And, yes, they are missing that little piece on the pinky. Just like the pants are missing the suspenders. And just like with those, I will be having assistance sewing that piece on!

I could show you want I have of that, but I'm planning on making that one big update.

Okay! That's it! Stay tuned for update 4!

~+~

Update 4! Not another exciting one again. The more exciting ones will slowly trickle in. depending on what you define as exciting

Anywho! Update 4!

SHOES

Yes. Shoes. I know our favorite souless bean doesn't wear shoes anymore...but I have to. No need to get my toes all messed up! Especially at this convention center. Walking around there can be a nightmare! Closed toed or not. 😭

Anyway!

Shoes!

They were sadly kind of expensive, but these were the closest I could find that kind of fit for what I was going for and i looked at custom ones first. Plus, I will be wearing these outside of the cosplay. So I get shoes for cosplay, and shoes for whenever I wanna wear them - a win-win.

But, one more thing! I will also I guess ruin them, in a way. How will I ruin them? Well...I was thinking of adding more splatter to them. Plus, see that pesky logo? Welp...I also had an idea for that.

And I'll just leave this update at that. >:3

~+~

Update 5! Long time coming, I know. But a lot of what I have left are bigger pieces that have a few extra things I gotta do, and I just haven't been focused on doing them. But since I'm actually going to finish this one this weekend, I decided to show the unfinished product. With that being said, here we go!

VIALS

These were actually so hard to find! I couldn't find anything that worked! And I originally started looking during the Halloween season, too! When these type of things would be more around. But everything was either way too big or just straight up decorative glass. Which...yeah. Would not do!

Eventually, after searching for ages, I found these on Etsy.

They're originally for necklaces, which, even though they are glass, they're hopefully a tad more sturdy. And, if things work out, I'll have a perfect way to keep them in the sash! We shall see.

I also found these!

Figured it would be fun to have little earrings on human!Ink.

Now, for the paints in the vials, I was having a hard idea what to do. Part of me wanted to put real paint in there. Yeaaaaah...probably not the best idea. But I finally figured it out, and I'll be working on it this weekend!

Stay tuned for the final look!

~+~

#void talks #nic talks #cosplay fun fun time #this is a wee bit stupid but eh fuck it #i do what i want #not gonna do huge tags for it coz this is just mostly for me and whoever wants to look at my ramblings

[lumenflowered]

//did you actually play through one of the johto games as maria for this?

//if so, do you have any screenshots you could share on main?

OOC: I did! still am, as a matter of fact! I'm currently playing through refined gold, a romhack of heartgold which supposedly did not change much beyond allowing some pokemon (horsea, murkrow) to be acquired sooner but also I didn't read the documentation as closely as I should have and only discovered that it buffed major story trainers (gym leaders, silver, team rocket, pokemon league) once I got to falkner and he had a hoothoot.

I'm a bit of a pokemon veteran, or at least I'd like to think so... so a "minimal buffs" romhack was honestly a reasonable amount of challenge. I miss not having to deal with hms though. and tms being reusable. and the party-wide exp share. do you realize how much time I spent grinding in victory road and lance STILL clapped my ass.

anyway, let's see what I can dig up...

(putting this below a cut because I dug up a lot of screenshots)

most recent screenshot: that fucking gyarados was the bane of my existence because I don't have any electric-type moves and SOMEONE had the bright idea to give it DRAGON DANCE. which it used. four times.

a choice scarf is not enough to outspeed a 4x dragon dance gyarados. in-character, maria won by the skin of her teeth. out of character, oh goD that took me like three tries because of the dragon dance incident. more like two because I got some really terrible rng on the second try and went "fuck this" like ten seconds in, but still.

anyway I unfortunately did not think to get a screenshot of the hall of fame and I am not fighting lance again specifically for that screenshot, sorry guys, I'm not fucking with that gyarados aGAIN

sassy lost child when did you play ace attorney. (I was. NOT PREPARED for the silver fight. it took me four solid tries to beat him. which was part of my motivation for going "y'know what he can have this win in the blog canon.")

(honestly, if I had too much trouble with lance, I was fully prepared to yeet maria into kanto some other way. but he was beatable. evelyn carried the hell out of that fight. and she is still just a seadra ingame, though I do have a king scale ingame, she'll evolve eventually.)

look how fucking Shaped the honchkrow sprite is, btw. peak birb.

one of these options is really not like the others

[ade voice] call an ambulance... BUT NOT FOR ME

(she was faster)

the team! from back in the ice path I think?

I did, out of character, spend like a week playing voltorb flip to get an ice beam tm for evelyn. saw some REALLY weird rows such as this one with 5 voltorbs and no points, and several rows with a lot of points and no voltorbs. I think the highest I got was like... level 7/8. once. (technically could have cheated using savestates and gotten through it much faster but I feel like maria would be disappointed in me for that one.)

one of the team rocket admins had a really weird smeargle the message I sent this screenshot with was "what the fuck is this smeargle on" and I stand by that tbh

thanks reina.

the power of FLUFFY BOYS compels thee

I spent a bunch of time in the pokeathlon to get a fire stone for molotov (since I couldn't find it in the kimono girls' closet ingame) and. y'all may not know this. but the pokeathlon SUCKS ASS to play on an emulator. in-character I think maria would be best at the skill course due to her bloodborne weapon scaling REALLY WELL with a stat called skill. out of character that was the worst one to do on an emulator by far, I eventually managed to eke out enough victories on the jump course to get that fire stone and I don't plan on going back.

I have a lot of screenshots of Ade at low (but not 0!) hp.

see I remembered this happening but I forgot how you literally just WALK IN THERE AND HE HYPER BEAMS A GUY. (the guy's... maybe not fine but like. he's alive enough to complain about it afterwards. he's fine lance didn't commit a murder.)

lol. lmao even.

the funny thing is that she would have believed him if rotomblr hadn't spilled the beans on "yeah that's a wholeass champion"

this is the Rat, my hm slave.

because I have played bloodborne (kind of currently playing it? don't have access to it most of the time but I'll be able to continue my save in march) and gotten the dialogue of particular characters you meet early on, I feel no guilt in dubbing the rat "gehrman." he is permanently level 20 because that is evolution level and rattata can't learn strength but raticate can.

(youngster joey's rat later got named gehrman because 1) I thought it would be hilarious 2) a bit of a nod to the rat that I wouldn't be able to beat the game without, because hms suck and I hate them.)

live footage of evelyn sweeping the ENTIRETY of jasmine's team on take two of that gym. she's terrifying I love her <3

one of the QOL things that this particular romhack does is allow trade evos to evolve through different requirements. haunter's, for example, is learning shadow ball. which it does naturally at level 36.

I did not realize this until after I used the morty tm. on my gastly.

ade really wanted to evolve twice in one day. I have never b-buttoned a pokemon quite so much before in my life. (also yes I could have grabbed an everstone from professor elm but by the time I thought of that I was midway through the radio tower and could not be assed to go get that yet.)

behold, the Rat. I was fully intending to leave him at level 4 forever before I discovered rattata can't learn strength.

(also, I find it deeply amusing that furret can learn surf.)

one (1) fear: WHITNEY'S MILTANK.

it had a lum berry. and attract. and milk drink. for gameplay purposes, rakuyo is a guy, and at that point I only had rakuyo, hunter, and molotov. so that miltank was. a Nightmare.

youngster joey is the SINGLE opposing trainer who maria actually gave her number to, because I thought it would be funny.

she is less annoyed than I am by his constant calls about the top percentage rat.

baby hunter!

...god I don't think there was a single gym in this romhack where it wasn't at least a little down to the wire. olivine excluded, but that's specifically because jasmine kicked my entire ass the first time around and I trained a bunch more for the second one.

baby rakuyo! they've come so far <3

anyway that's. all the screenshots I can dig up that are fun. hi yes I have so many thoughts about this. come closer. :P

#ooc post

[lmelodie]

FUSION AU YEAHHHH! Kills and Mera addition! Here is Khaos or Chirin if you wanna be boring about it. Let me ramble about them under the cut! My sweet little trash baby!

The only reason that they have two names kind of is because their names are already very phonetically similar and Chirin was the less boring option, but then KHAOS came to mind (spelled exactly like that) and i fell in love. So their name is Khaos lol

Chimera's sluttiness and Killian's garbage vibes really give this character a FLAVOR. If the word Scuttle or Skitter was a person, Khaos would be them lol.

Mostly because they do scuttle about! They are on all fours a lot, climbing over stuff and pouncing on people because they still feel very quadrupedal even though they only have two legs. Gives them an extra layer of goblin energy that is very on brand.

I think the personality here is channeling MAJOR Eda Owlhouse vibes, moreso than Jackie over there (also very VERY vague inspo coming from Eris of Sinbad fame). Like, if you combine a grimy homeless man and the hottest woman ever you will get a trashy milf out of it. Thats what they are, a trashy milf lol.

A tomboy fatale if you will.

Okay so, I don't know why this fusion just gives such SHORT ENEGERY?? I think its because their so Crechur coded that they've gotta be a little smaller than others. Shorter than Jackie even!

I just knew FOR A FACT that I had to give them the most crazy MANE imaginable, kind of giving them mad hatter vibes almost. The rest of the fit is still up for debate (trying to balance out baggy and covered and max sluttiness is not easy), but they do have double snake scarf! Both snake friends!

Plus their little half skirt, caplet thingy has subtle leopard spots on it, instead of just grime and stains.

I think their whole powerset would be based around the idea of a really bad acid trip lol. Just to add another alice in wonderland motif, their powers are a lot of hallucinations, weird dream like states and a lot of other physical symptoms associated with drug use. Overall, NOT a good time, wouldn't not recommend. This is the literal image of a nightmare blunt rotation.

Their eyes can probably do the little swirly, hypnosis kinda thing.

AND THEY GOT BODY HORROR FOR DAYS. I think their niche is being a contortionist and all the fun shit that goes with that!

Like the fucking Alexandrite lookin, double mouth/jaw under the face type of shit! Thats canon because that shits metal as fuck.

And so I had this thought of this fusion and how they interact with other fusions and like, I think Jackie is a bit conflicted lol. They are trying SO HARD to figure out if their attracted to this alley cat looking bitch or not lol. Are they attracted to them? Are they terrified of them?? Is it BOTH??? Who knows! But it has been FUN to think about.

#digital art #artists on tumblr #oc #fusion au #how they feel about Jackie is also probably complicated lol #mostly chill I guess #but always on THIN FUCKING ICE

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2023: #20 - #19

20. AZERBAIJAN TuranTuralX - "Tell me more" 34th place

Decade Ranking: 58/116 [Above Achille, below Anxela]

lmfao, the twins made my top 20?! I mean, yeah 2023. Of course they made my top 20. [AlexaVoice] PLEASE LEAVE A VOICE MESSAGE WITH YOUR COMPLAINT FOR VERTICAL CLASSIFICATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW. [/AlexaVoice]

Now here's an entry that serves as a physical embodiment of the "Presence That Was Liked". Yeah it was mid, but a pleasant mid. The twins were never leaving the semifinal alive. They were always going to be the sacrificial lambs of the newly invented "No Jurors During Semi's rule" which specifically targeted Azerbaijan (and... props to Azer for accepting their fate? lol) Turan and Tural were never being more than passengers along for a ride, which they took to heart.

"Tell me more" was all it needed to be. An inconspicuous NQ that was still cute and endearing in its own sort of way. The dreamy and drawly vibe

The imitation 70s aesthetic that convincingly sells the 90s softrock.

Add in a rap verse during minute one, a couple of fashionable scarfs, good camera cuts,...

Yeah "Tell me more" had zero televote appeal (this 100% dies even with juries being in), but as an entry it's refreshingly unpretentious and especially from Azerbaijan, wtf? Usually Azer pick some shitty Swedish pop track and force it on a conventionally attractive jazz muppet who then can't be bothered to do preparties or interviews. This year, their rep was a pair of homely deer-in-headlight twinkbeasts operating under a myspace name who were actually happy to be there and actively mingled with the fans. There some delicious irony and melodramatic twang to be found in the knowledge that by effectively throwing their 2023 qualification, Azer have shown more respect to the contest than they'd ever done before.

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

19. FRANCE La Zarra - "Évidemment" 16th place

Decade ranking: 56/116 [Above Anxela, below El Diablo]

Yes I know what you're here for;

But you'll have to wait because I am here to rate the performance first. Yep, slightly ahead of the MySpace Twinks on my list seems just about right for a La Zarra. "Évidemment" represent the other side of "mid", the one where the promise is large and the delivery not quite as large. As a song "Évidemment" was kind of a blueballer: Sure, it had a lot of poise, flair, drama, a wee bit of camp and yet...barely any substance. It was The French Entry, like that was its entire identity, almost to a point of parody. And well, France competes every year and is usually better than "LES POISSONS LES POISSONS HI HI HI HÔN HÔN HÔN". donc, pleurez-moi une rivière de pute. I'm having a laugh but seriously, not picking a lane between serious attempt and self-deprecating satire that was the difference between a sixth place and a sixteenth place.

Still, I at first thought France were headed towards a disastrous bottom five result, especially after that rehearsal clip implied LaZarra was on the same Vocal Rest Tonics as Mae Muller. I WAS GONNA BE PROVEN RIGHT AND VINDICATED!!! and well, I was but not about her. (ty Blanca Paloma, we'll rank you soon enough)

When it mattered most, La Zarra got it together, and NAILED that epic big note.

No complaints from me about that live. It was a good live and did what it needed to do. I like it when the headliners deliver what they're supposed to (see also: Azer delivering a pleasant NQ) because it makes the show better overall. Obviously that doesn't erase the fact that (1) the song was mid as fuck (2) the staging was daft at best. ("MON DIEUX I WEAR HAUTE COUTURE, ACT LIKE A DIVA, AM THE EIFFEL TOWER, SOUND LIKE PIAF, LOOK THERE'S A TRICOLORE I AM SOOOO FRENCH!!" um no ur not, ur from Montréal stfu).

Okay so now we address this:

Sure, an uproarious voting moment and it was sooooo stank, but was it fun stank? 🤔 idk.

On one hand, LMFAO WHAT AN ENTITLED FUCKING SOW. 😍😍😍😍😍. The Xwitter trolls immediately began spinning their fanfictions all "WELL ACTUALLY what she did was a secret gesture of respect in Maghrebian cultures" like bitch, she's (1) a QUEBECOIS (2) who cosplayed as the Eiffel Tower and a disco ball unironically, how hinged do you think she is? Her gesture definitely was the sort of melodramatic Egomaniac reaction I'd expect from someone who deliberately caused a pre-show stir by posting an Insta Story all "It's getting to me!!! I'm QUITTING 😭😭 // Cigarettes: "Eurovision?! 😨" // La Zarra: ".... non i meant the gluten, mdrrrr!!!!! 😆". So yes, the moment itself was pretty funnay 2 me, esp since she got twice points I thought's she'd get.

On the other hand, um take a seat you entitled fucking sow. There is serving cunt and then there is straight up being a cunt. The difference is that you have to earn your glamourcunt label and you, madame, were always in "Good but not Great" territory. Be grateful there were any scraps left for you after Käärijä and Loreen gobbled.

In conclusion, lmfao i kinda dislike her as a person (but better she show the world how rude and misguided she is after losing than after getting a top ten) and I genuinely enjoy thinking about her messiness more than listening to her music. 🙂 (so I guess that makes her Taylor Swift.)

Besides, around 16th is where France usually ends up at anyway, so I think they got precisely what they were aiming for, GJ France. 🙂 Now let's not think about this country until the end of March, when it becomes semi-important for me to remember what their entrant's (who?) song (what?) sounds like again.

THE RANKING

#Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #ESC #ESC 2023 #Eurovision 2023 #Liverpool 2023 #BorisBubbles #France #La Zarra #Evidemment #Azerbaijan #TuranTuralX #Tell Me More #Youtube

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 16 ~ In the dark

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW: nightmare, panic attack, flashback, unreality, low-level recounting of past tortures, angsty angst w/ a side of more panic

WC: 1930

Tagging my HD crew: @kixngiggles, @dont-touch-my-soup, @clairelsonao3 (if you want to be added or removed, let me know!)

AN: In which Carr freaks Resh the fuck out on multiple levels 😅

This is a bit of a short one. Don't worry, I'll make up for that next week by almost doubling the word count lol.

Resh

The encounter with that man had shaken him badly. He’d barely been present for Orla when she’d come to eat with him and had decided if he was going to be useless, he might as well try to sleep. 

That had been a mistake.

Resh woke, sweat-soaked and trembling, in an unfamiliar room. Moonlight streamed in through the small window, but it didn’t touch the bed, leaving him swathed in shadow. The blanket was rough, the fibers coarse beneath his fingertips as he pulled it up to his chin. 

It had taken him weeks to acclimate at the palace. To get to the point where he’d wake from a nightmare and latch on to something, something that he’d unequivocally tied to ‘not the torture room, not a dream’.

He’d failed to take that into account for this journey. Nothing looked right, so nothing could tell him he wasn’t still there. That he hadn’t had another cruel dream that tantalized him with hope, only to have it yanked away, time and again. 

Was this real, or was this the nightmare? His throat felt tight, swollen, allowing only a trickle of air into his aching chest. The rapid thud of his heart almost drowned out the faint scuffle of a boot outside the door. 

His heart stopped, then kicked back up at triple speed. It wasn’t real. None of it had been real.  

The prince was back. He was back, he would take more skin, burn him, cut him apart, allow him to choke and choke and choke until–Resh scrabbled at his neck, scratching it with his nails as he wrestled with the scarf, finally, finally! ripping it free.     

But his fingers didn’t feel scar tissue underneath, they felt that wretched vine, and his breaths wouldn’t come and the door opened and he fled. 

Don’t see me don’t see me don’t see me, he chanted over and over in his mind, curling up in the corner as small as he could get. 

A dark figure stepped into the room, hand hovering over a thigh sheath. Resh pressed harder against the wall, teeth clenched together to keep them from chattering. 

But the figure heard and spun around, so fast the motion blurred–no wait, that was the tears blurring his vision when the moonlight reflected off steel. 

It would be the knives this time, then. More, more practice, more cuts, more tearing, more pain. A sob caught in his ruined throat, emerging as nothing more than a huff of air, and he pressed his head to his knees. Don’t see me don’t see me don’t see me… 

Hands lifted his face, and he cried harder, his whole body twitching as he fought off the desire to pull away. Don’t hurt me please don’t hurt please don’t please please–

And then, he was pulled into an embrace, arms wrapping around him, head pillowed on a soft chest that… vibrated? He held still, so so still, holding his breath, holding the sobs, wondering what the fuck the prince was playing at. He liked to mock Resh with gentle touches, a gentle voice, but he’d never… never… 

Side to side, his body swayed with the barely there movements of the person holding him. Sound filtered through the blood roaring in his ears, a soft… melody? Singing? No, there were no words, just humming, but… it sounded like a… lullaby?

Resh dared to take a shallow breath and nearly froze again as the coppery scent of blood invaded his sinuses. A broken-sounding exhale left him, his fear reigniting, muscles clenching taut enough to snap. He wanted to push away–he couldn’t push away, that would make things worse when he could barely take the regular torture and he couldn’t do this anymore…  

But the rocking never stopped, nor the humming. Minutes passed, and nothing changed. Nothing happened. Nobody hurt him. 

Gradually, he calmed enough to notice the hand rubbing his back felt too small to belong to the prince. The chest his cheek rested against too soft. The humming too high-pitched, too… feminine. His fear-muddled mind finally pieced it together. 

Carr. 

Reality snapped back into place, and he relaxed fully against her, feeling near boneless with relief. Until he took his next breath. 

Blood. There was blood on Carr. 

Oh gods. Resh pulled out of her hold, his hands going to her arms, her chest, her abdomen, feeling for injuries until she batted him away with a muttered curse. 

Where are you hurt? he asked frantically, but he couldn’t see anything–

“Resh, stop!” Carr said. 

He couldn’t see anything and he tried to turn her face into the moonlight but she pulled away so he jumped up, knocking his hip painfully against the bedframe as he searched for a lamp. Ah! There! On the desk. Now where was the flint–

Carr grabbed his gloved hands, stopping his harried searching. “I got it, Resh. I got it.” She made quick work of finding the flint and lighting the lamp, then stepped back. 

His heart was beating far too fast as he ran his eyes over her, not daring to touch her again. Not quite believing he’d dared to touch her in the first place, but he couldn’t think straight with the smell of blood so strong. 

Where are you hurt? he asked. Who hurt you, what’s happened, I don’t see anything– He cut off when she held up a hand. 

“Too fast,” she said. “I can’t catch what you’re sayin. Are you alright?” 

Resh shook his head violently, slashing a hand across his chest before pointing at her. Who gave a shit about him; she was the one who stank of blood! 

She stepped closer, peering at something. “You’ve scratched your neck, let me get–” 

He reached for her arm as she moved to turn away but stopped short of grabbing it, clenching his hand into a fist and drawing it back against his chest. It was enough to capture her attention again, though. 

“Alright, what is it? Speak slowly, the light isn’t that great for lip readin.” 

Where. Are. You. Hurt? he asked again, gesturing with his hands as well. He kept searching her form, but her clothes were too dark, and he couldn’t see anything that might resemble a wound. 

Carr’s brow crinkled, and she brought up a hand, touching her chest with a frown. “You think I’m hurt? I’m not, I’m fine, Resh.” 

His eyes locked onto her fingers, to the dried blood caked around the nails. He couldn’t breathe through the pain that stabbed through him. Had someone tried to… tried to hurt her again? And this time, he hadn’t been there? His hand went to his throat, sweeping over the scars. 

She caught where his gaze landed and snatched her hand away. “It’s not… it’s not what you think.” 

He stared at her helplessly, flooded with questions he couldn’t ask because he couldn’t fucking speak, and the light wasn’t good enough for her to lip-read anything more than a short sentence or two. It was enough to make him want to scream. Instead, he forced himself to say something. 

Were you attacked? 

Her eyes slid away from his. “No. I… need t’ clean up. Are you okay now?” 

Resh pinched his lips together, relief and despair mixing together into an unrecognizable tangle of emotions. One thing was clear, though; she didn’t want to talk to him. Again. Tears threatened, but he blinked them away, nodding. Before she could go, he held up his hand, asking her to wait. 

She worried her lower lip but kept her attention on his mouth. 

Can we talk in the morning? Before we leave? 

Carr eyed him warily but still inclined her head. Then she shifted her weight, clearly antsy. “Is that all?” 

He sighed, one worry draining away only to be replaced by a different one, and nodded. 

She couldn’t get out of his room fast enough. It made him wonder if he’d imagined her rocking him while he panicked, humming a lullaby his mother had sung to him as a baby. 

Once he heard the door to the room next to him close, he picked up his discarded scarf and sat on the bed. Staring out the window, he ran the silken fabric through his hands, wanting to put it back on but also unable to bear the thought of anything around his neck right now. 

He wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night. 

~~~

Dawn’s light had barely touched the sky when Resh’s door banged open, and Carr appeared, a sleepy-looking Orla on her heels. 

“We need t’ go. Now,” Carr said, sweeping in to grab his travel bag, shoving in any loose items she found.  

Alarmed, he straightened, hastily tying on his scarf before grabbing his notebook. He’d prewritten several common phrases at the front, and he flipped to one now, jabbing his finger by the words ‘What is it?’ as he showed it to Orla. 

“I don’t know,” Orla said, then covered her mouth as she yawned. “Some girl woke the innkeeper, who woke his wife, who woke Carr, telling her we needed to leave. She got me first. Said I could finish sleeping in the carriage.” 

What the fuck? Carr finished packing his bag and swept from the room before he could ask her anything directly, leaving him and Orla no choice but to follow. 

The stable was a flurry of activity while a baggy-eyed groom hitched the horses. Their driver stood nearby, grumbling about eccentric passengers. Carr shoved him and Orla in the carriage, then darted away. 

Resh ducked his head out to find her speaking to the innkeeper and a girl with soft blond curls dressed in a slightly ragged skirt and blouse who kept twisting her hands in her apron. He was shocked when Carr placed a hand on the taller girl’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper something. The girl nodded, then hugged Carr, who actually allowed it, even though her spine stiffened. He leaned back in his seat before she could see him, and a few minutes later, she joined them. 

The lamps he’d taken the time to light flickered, illuminating the cabin enough that she should have no trouble seeing his lips, despite the sun having not risen. 

Resh made sure he had her attention before speaking. What is going on? 

“Ummm,” Carr hedged, her eyes flicking over to his sister. “I might’ve… umm… we should talk about this later, maybe?” 

Orla huffed. “When are you two gonna stop treating me like a baby? 

When you’re older. 

“When you’re older.” 

“Oh my gods, you two!” Orla threw herself back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna assume Resh said something along the lines of what you said, Carr, by the way you’re looking at each other.” 

Resh blinked, feeling a little guilty. 

“I’ll have you know that just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know–” Orla cut herself off, wiping at her eyes. “I know more than you think. I wish you didn’t think you were doing me some almighty favor, leaving me in the dark.”  

With that, she kicked off her boots and snatched a book out of her bag, burying her nose in it. 

Okay. So Carr was hiding something, scratch that, several somethings at this point, Orla was upset over being excluded, and Resh… Resh couldn’t fucking communicate unless someone was looking at him, which both ladies were now studiously avoiding doing.  

The carriage started moving, and Carr let out a relieved-sounding sigh. 

Resh wished he could do the same.

Next

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths are written in white above the eyes. Any other images are purely decorative lines. end ID]

#hidden depths #whump #whump writing #original writing #original characters #fantasy whump #warnings above the cut #nightmare tw #flashback tw #unreality tw #angst

[thepuckishrogue]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: What You Want, What You Need

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | f!reader | m!reader ||

|| javier m.list | rdr m.list | writing blog ||

↠ Requested By: The absolutely unreal levels of thirst I have for this man ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((is2g, if I see any minors interacting with my stuff it’s ~on sight~)) ↠ Chronology: In the here and now because it’s a Modern AU ↠ CWs/TWs: There a lot, but the biggest are mild exhibitionism, m!dom/sub dynamics, rough treatment/sex (Reader receiving), jealous Javier (but make it non-toxic), light choking (Reader receiving), and orgasm denial/control (Reader receiving). For a complete and more detailed listing see the note below the cut. And if I missed anything, please let me know!! ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 7.5k~

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.” “You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

A Modern AU in which you take your teasing a little too far at a friend’s party. In return Javier will make sure that you get what you deserve before you get what you need.

He’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

‼ PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM NO LONGER POSTING NEW WORKS TO THIS ACCOUNT ‼

The only reason I’m putting the GN version on here is because it doesn’t make sense to break them up. If you want to keep up with my work, head over to my writing blog, linked above. ((that’s where the link for my rdr m.list will take you, btw))

Anyways! Sorry it took me so long to write this. I have no excuse aside from being lazy and not wanting to cringe my way through reading my old writing lol.

Also! I’m trying something new, as far as translations go. Instead of having them all at the top of the post, they’re now directly under the paragraph they appear in. Imo this makes for an easier read, but if it’s having the opposite effect let me know; if enough people are having problems with it I’ll go back to the old format.

((also, also—I’m naught but a basic ass English speaker and thusly all translations are still internet-sourced, so if they’re wrong please refrain from coming for me lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns || Reader has ambiguous anatomy || Reader is POC friendly || M!dom/sub dynamics (with Reader being a low-key bratty sub until they sweeten up) || public teasing, but make it ~sexy~ (Javi receiving) || fingering (Reader receiving) || orgasm denial (Reader receiving) || penetrative sex (Reader receiving) || rough treatment/sex (tho not overly so) || one SARCASTIC use of “daddy/papi” || lots of pet names (including that “good baby” type beat, Reader receiving) || Reader purposefully making Javi jealous (in a playful, non-toxic way lol) || Charles is an accomplice in the aforementioned foolishness (there’s an… implied understanding there*) || naturally that means there’s a certain level of exhibitionism but it’s all R-rated stuff || arm binding via a scarf (Reader receiving) || light choking (Reader receiving) || lots of praise (Reader receiving b/c that’s Javi’s jam) || voice kink stuff (goes both ways) || ((write that off to OP being a self-indulgent shit once again lol)) || orgasm control (Reader receiving)

*So basically after fucking around Reader finds out that Javi’s not one to be teased after he winds them up only to leave them wanting. Reader, wanting to get back at him for not finishing the job, utilizes one of their mutual friends (Charles) to stoke a little jealousy, but I swear it’s not as toxic as it sounds lmao. It’s less about actually making him jealous and more about fraying his ironclad sense of control by triggering his possessive streak… Which, okay, still sounds bad I suppose, but there’s being possessive and then there’s being possessive in a hella toxic way; Javi is the latter. What’s more it’s implied that the three of them have an understanding of sorts, so it’s all in good fun.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?” ((my love))

Yes, your body screams as his hand works against your center, the drag of his callouses creating a delicious friction with every pass over the hot, sodden flesh. Your hands grip at his shoulders, hard and nearly tight enough to bruise, as you grind up into his touch.

You know you must look thoroughly debauched right now—head thrown back to expose more of your neck to his care, lips slightly parted under pants and half-formed curses, skin flushed and sweat-slick, and eyelids weighed down by the weight of your lust—and that’s saying nothing of the state of your clothes. Items have been hastily tugged and rearranged to get the most needed parts exposed in the quickest amount of time possible. You clearly look like you’re in the process of being ravished, but Javier…

The man couldn’t be more put together if he tried.

There’s not a hair out of place, and despite the desperate hold you have on his shirt, the damn thing hasn’t even so much as wrinkled. The only sign that he’s even the least bit affected by all of this is the tent in his pants and the desire that darkens his gaze, but you suppose that’s to be expected. If he wasn’t so damnably good at keeping his composure you wouldn’t have bothered with doing the things that have led you to this moment.

An ‘accidental’ brush of your fingers against his crotch, whispered filth as you casually rested your weight against his back, the instant transformation of a simple spoon into something far more erotic once it passed your lips—nothing was off limits, not when you were so hell-bent on breaking him. It’s all consensual, this game the two of you play. Sometimes the teasing is mutual, other times it skews a bit more against one of you, but the end goal is always the same: to bring the other so close to the edge that they willingly hurl themselves over it.

Today’s party had been the perfect excuse to indulge in a bit of play, and your man had been all too willingly to serve himself up as prey. This, of course, was due to the fact that he was more than confident in his victory. The thrill of the challenge was the only thing that gave the get-together any allure; sure, Karen and Sean do hold the crown for best house parties in your friend group, but you’re not always sure that they’re worth the (usually hangover induced) headache.

You’d brought you’re A-game, starting with wearing an ensemble that you know he couldn’t resist. His mind had clearly gone blank when you first emerged from the bedroom, though he quickly rearranged his face into something cavalier before telling you to “–get your cute ass in the car so we can get gone.” Your fingers played along the inseam of his pants for the entire length of the ride, but aside from an initial arching of his brow he was annoyingly nonplussed. You had stepped things up considerably once you were inside, but despite essentially giving a plastic spoon a blowie (just out of view of an unsuspecting Arthur and Lenny) the man hadn’t done so much as smirk in your direction.

After a good twenty minutes got you nothing but an ache between your own thighs you finally gave up and decided to try to enjoy the party. With a cup of something mixed and fruity in hand you headed off to join your friends, but before you could make your way into the living room a familiar hand was curling itself around your arm and dragging you off in the opposite direction.

It just fucking figures that being ignored would be the back-breaking straw. You would’ve been mad at it if it wasn’t gonna result in yours getting blown out.

Neither of you said anything as Javier led your deeper into the house, not that there was much to say anyway. It was pretty damn obvious from the set of his jaw and the hunger in his eyes that you had won, and it could never be said that you weren’t a gracious winner …self-satisfied smirk notwithstanding.

His lips were on yours before the door had even fully shut behind you. You had laughed a bit at his eagerness, but the taunting sound soon morphed into a moan when your back slammed into the wall just beside the thing. Eyes smoldering and smile wicked, he groped at your clothed form in a way that had you writhing and grinding against him within seconds. It was only once you were a panting mess that he finally, finally bypassed the layers to touch you properly; hot and wet, proof of your arousal met his questing fingers, electing a groan that was nothing short of orgasmic. Things had moved quickly from there, and the rest…

“I said—‘is this what you wanted?’”

The words are growled against your ear, though the harsh pant of the breaths that follow travel downwards until he’s nipping at the corner of your jaw. A broken mewl pushes past your lips at its sting, and though the sound leaves him shuddering against you, it’s clearly not enough to sate him. His free hand connects with your ass in a resounding slap, one that while not overly hard is still enough weaken your knees considerably.

“Yes,” you groan out, the word catching in your throat as his thumb rubs a fresh pearl of precum over your sensitive flesh. “Fuck! Javi, yesss…”

Hot, bothered, and more than a little desperate you rut against his hand with hard little jerks. Your borderline frantic movements and needy little sounds leave him chuckling darkly as he works you over with practiced ease. His tone is condescending as hell as he pulls more and more out of you with lascivious words murmured in a husky timbre. He’s playing you like a goddamn fiddle, but you don’t care, can’t care—about this or anything else that’s not your impending release.

“Baby, I need, fuck, I need–”

“Shhh, I know.”

And you don’t know how he knows, just that somehow he always, impossibly does, and now is no exception. He descends to his knees with a smoothness that only repetition can bring, nudging your legs wider so that you’re more fully on display for him. He looks up at you then, wanting to make sure that you’re watching—as if you could ever be looking anywhere else. His eyes flicker with a familiar mischief as he runs the flat of his tongue over your heat and you damn near scream at the wet, warm trail it cuts.

“Careful now, cariño, you don’t want them to hear us– Oooo…” The word fades into a rolling chuckle when your hips give an involuntary thrust forward that has him amending his statement. “Or maybe you do? Mmmm… You like that, huh? You like the thought of them hearing what I do to you? Hmm, mi bebé travieso?” He all but purrs the last word as he presses a kiss to your quivering thigh before putting his mouth to work again. He alternates between gentle sucks and teasing flicks of his tongue against your most sensitive areas; meanwhile his fingers gather up a measure of your moisture before pushing inside of you to start up a lazy pace. This treatment lasts for a few glorious seconds only to come to a stop so abrupt that it leaves all of your muscles seizing up in confusion. ((sweetie || my naughty baby))

You know what he wants—an answer to a question, that if he were less petty, he wouldn’t expect a real reply to—just as you likewise know that he won’t start again until he gets it. And so you take a shaky approximation of a breath before managing to stutter out, “J-just… returning the favor.”

Laughing, he takes your meaning instantly. With as many times as you’ve been forced to listen to Karen and Sean go at it on various occasions, it does only seem fair. Of course, your reply is more copout than actual answer, but thankfully he lets it go. For now. You’ll definitely be talking about this again at some point in the future—probably later on tonight, actually—but for right now he’s content enough to go back to ruining you with his deft fingers and talented mouth.

You’ve always been fascinated by Javier’s hands. They’re slightly larger than what you would expect from a man his size, and yet somehow they don’t seem out of proportion to his body. They hold so much potential, both to create and to destroy—a point that is mirrored in the tattoos and scars that cover the dusk of his skin. You love to see them in motion, whether he’s doing something as mundane as tuning his guitar or something more perilous like playing with one of his many knives; the former is a particular point of fascination as you cannot help but to wonder if the skill transfers over to more carnal activities. The way his stroking thumb works in time with the bob of his fingers into your heat you’re inclined to say that yes, yes it does.

And his mouth…

Holy fuck, his mouth.

It doesn’t matter where it is he’s kissing you, having his lips pressed against your skin is always enough to leave you weak. Warm and pillow soft, they glide over you leaving a feverish trail of desire in their wake. Calloused fingers continue to work you open, adding to your pleasure in a way that sees your voice scaling higher, louder, as any lingering worries about being overheard are vaulted clean out of your head.

In this moment his only goal is to see you coming undone, and under Javier’s touch you’re a rapidly fraying thread. He’s loving every minute of this, you know he is, but—“If you can’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet, amor, I know my cock can.”

“Oh my god.”

The throb your core gives is almost painful in its intensity as you imagine having him face fuck you until tears are spilling past the corners of your eyes before bending you over and absolutely ruining you, and you have to wonder just what this man has done to you. You were never this damn kinky before—or maybe you’ve always been a closet freak—either way since getting with Javi you have been turned completely out, and you’re not even mad about it, honestly. What you can do without, however, is his smug little laugh. Like yeah, he totally has a right to it, wrecking you the way he is, but still. Any saltiness you feel is quickly forgotten as the spooled pleasure in your stomach wrings itself tighter. Your bodies work in tandem creating the perfect rhythm, so fucking perfect, and you’re so fucking close, just a little more and then—and then he’s pulling away?

What?

“Nooo! Javier, why–”

“Orgasms are for good little loves,” he tells you simply as he rises back to his full height.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

But looking at him you know he is. Honestly you should’ve been expecting something like this—you had been teasing him for nearly twenty minutes before this all began—but you’d thought that your punishment was going to come in the form of him gagging you with his dick before fucking you until you screamed. But this… Well this is the other side of the coin that you’d forgotten to consider. Yes, he’s hard and yes, he wants this just as badly as you, but Javier’s more than willing to deny his own needs if it means winning this little game of yours. He’s petty like that, and what’s more he has the will to see it through.

Well fine then, you think with a pouty twist of your lips. If he wants to be that way I’ll just finish myself off and–

Fingers close tightly around your wrist before you can properly touch yourself. “What did I just say, bebé?” ((baby))

“And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do to and with my own body?” you ask with an arch of your brow. The bite of your words would be more effective, you’re sure, if they weren’t so damn breathy, but there’s little for that.

“Oh, mi amor,” he starts with a chuckle as he pins your hand to the wall beside your head, “you know exactly who I am.” He kisses you then, long and deep, and you find yourself melting under it despite your annoyance.

Damn this man and his silver everything! The thought drags its way through your sex-addled brain as your free hand twists itself in his shirt, though whether the action will lead to you pushing him away or pulling him closer you’re not sure yet, and before you can decide he’s breaking the kiss.

“Get dressed, cariño, we’ve got a party to get back to,” he breathes against your lips before pecking at them again.

“You can at least let me err, calm down some and clean myself up a bit–”

He shakes his head as he pulls away from you. “No, I don’t think so. I want you just like this, baby—all leaky and throbbing and wanting. I want you aching just as much as I am. It’s only fair, after all.”

Eyeing the bulge that’s seriously testing the tensile strength of his zipper you’re inclined to agree, reluctantly though it may be done. After all you are the one that kicked things off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re left to live with the consequences? Yeah, not so much. Fair’s fair, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Pouting all the while, you quickly set yourself back to rights—well mostly. Thanks to the hasty tugging of your prior urgency your clothes aren’t hanging like they’re supposed to and won’t be again until they’ve been washed and re-ironed, but there’s nothing to be done about that in the now.

You’re left to silently lament the fact that you’re about to take a mini walk of shame that hasn’t been entirely earned since you didn’t actually get any. Cutting your eyes over at the reason you’re in such a state you find that, aside from his very obvious arousal, the fucker looks as put together as ever.

“You suck, you know that?”

He snorts as he snakes an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. “Yeah, I do. I also lick and nip and tease and you love it.”

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.”

“You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

“Promises, promises,” you snark back, though there’s no denying the longing seated in your words.

His only reply is a dark little chuckle that leaves you throbbing with want and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. What’s worse is that you’re about to walk through a party full of all of your friends, and while it’s not the first time they’ve seen you flustered and frazzled like this the situation is still less than ideal. Thankfully the thought of having winks and suggestive comments tossed your way is enough to kill off any lingering lust, but this is going to be a long night either way—or is it?

A plan starts to come together in your mind as you hear Charles’s laughter floating in though the backdoor; he rarely ever laughs loud enough for it to be heard so far away, so you can only imagine what’s been said or done to garner such a reaction. Though his mirth usually runs on the quieter side of things, the man does have a mischievous streak that can almost rival Sean’s, and it’s only common sense and general kindness that keeps him from tapping into it more.

Tonight, however, he’s going to step outside of his self-imposed restrictions—you’ll make sure of it.

After all, your plan relies on it.

“What’s got you laughing so hard, Chuck?”

Charles doesn’t even bother with correcting you as he knows that you’re already well aware of how much he despises that nickname. You’re just looking to get a rise out of him, but unlike your boyfriend, he’s not so easily bated. Though to be fair to Javier, it did take you a good twenty or so minutes to finally break him—maybe more as whatever game it is you two are playing more than like started long before your arrival–

And is set to carry on for a while longer, if the state of them is anything to go by.

He’s hardly surprised to find that the pair of you are looking more disheveled than last you were seen. While Javier’s only slightly mussed, it’s more than obvious that you’ve been taken through your paces. There’s a wrinkle in your clothes that hadn’t been there before and your lips are plush in a way that says you’ve been kissed thoroughly and with a level of enthusiasm that would have left you moaning into the ministration as you grinded into your lover’s palm with needy little ruts of your hips…

He quickly averts his eyes as soon as the thought manifests lest you pick up on the way you’re affecting him—have always affected him, if he’s being honest. And it’s not just you. Javier is dangerously alluring in his own right, and he finds himself falling into his orbit more often than not. He’s never allowed himself to explore whatever it is he feels for either of you as you and Javier have always been a thing, though there’s no point in denying that there’s an attraction there, and a mutual one at that. Javier’s always been the more flirtatious out of the two of you, but when you have a mind to you can fluster him like nobody else. None of you have ever seemed truly interested in taking things beyond that level—yet.

Charles cannot help but to feel that one of these days there’s going to be a shift. The signs are all there, after all; the way you all gravitate towards one another, trading lingering touches and longing looks. Things that he would usually consider an invasion are much welcomed advances when they’re coming from the pair of you and he often finds himself reciprocating without any conscious thought. It’s all so confusing and thrilling and catalyzing that he cannot help but to crave more. Arthur has told him on several occasions to bite the bullet and make a move, but given that he’s dealing with an established couple he’s more than willing to follow your lead on this one.

In the now he gives you a response in the form of a nod towards one of the party’s hosts. Sean is just now scrambling his way back onto the deck (quite literally as he’s opted to climb over the railing instead of using the stairs like a normal person) after an overly-dramatic retelling of one of his more daring exploits had sent him tumbling off of it. Luckily for him the fall was a short one into relatively soft grass, so really it’s only his pride that’s been bruised. Seeing that his audience has increased by two he starts his story from the beginning and the pair of you listen with rapt attention–

Or, rather Javier does. You, however…

It starts out innocently enough, with you slumping against him and resting most of your weight against his shoulder. Charles contemplates draping an arm around you—it wouldn’t be odd of him as it’s a position that you’ve been in countless times before, but he doesn’t want to presume—but before he can think himself into a circle you’re snaking your arm around his waist. Your hold isn’t particularly tight, only really pressing in enough to keep you connected. After a few seconds you start to feather your fingers up and down his side in a move that he would’ve considered innocent if not for the wicked little smile on your face. There and gone in a flash, he finds himself looking at you more fully to be sure of what he saw; all he receives for his troubles, however, is a playful wink that leaves him batting down a burst of nerves.

It seems as if he’s unwittingly become a participant in whatever it is the pair of you have going on. He’s surprised, but he can’t say he’s opposed.

Steeling himself with a sigh, he finally allows his arm to drape across the breadth of your shoulders. The movement catches Javier’s eye from where he stands on Charles’ other side, as does the continued skittering of your hand. His expression as he takes this all in changes by degrees as he assesses you both separately; when looking at you there’s a knowing tint to his gaze that’s clouded with a banked lust, though when his eyes meet the taller man’s stare that knowingness sharpens into appraisal. Had the desire there dissipated Charles would have backed off immediately, but thankfully that isn’t the case. Javier gives you both a smirk that leaves Charles flushing in a way that gives him one more reason to love the dusk of his skin.

It’s apparent that Javier’s happy to let the two of you play, so Charles is content enough to let you do as you will. Your hands move higher and higher with each pass over the waffle-knit of his top until clever fingers are dancing up the back of his neck to gently tangle themselves in his nape. Nails scrape upwards into the loose wave of his hair in a move that nearly has him moaning out loud. He’s just able to bite down on the sound, but there’s nothing to be done for the way the rest of his body betrays him with a shiver. Having his hair played with has always been a weakness of his, but one that not many know of thanks to the boundaries that he’s set in place. The number of people who can say they’ve had the pleasure of obtaining this knowledge are few, and those who’ve gotten such a visceral reaction out of him because of it are fewer still.

Sounds seem to fade away as you continue to lull him with your ministrations, with not even the combined drunken yelling of Sean and Lenny’s conveyed anecdote being enough to pull him out of the stupor. He allows his mind to wander as you work; the images that flash through his head are ones that he usually reserves for hours far later than this one, when he’s alone with an ache between his legs that cannot be abated by anything but imaginings of the only two people who could reduce him to such a base state. His grip on you tightens unconsciously, forcing you more firmly against his chest and you’re quick you mold yourself against him.

Your pace is languid as you work him over with the repetitious scrape. It feels like he’s under the sweetness of your care for a small eternity, and he’s more than happy to stay lost for another eternity still, so when your fingers curl and tighten against his locks and tug there’s really no way for him to stop himself from crying out. Luckily the story has finally reached its end to a cacophony of laughter that’s just loud enough to drown out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a moan. Thankfully everyone’s too drunk and-or preoccupied to notice the way his chest heaves and his eyes darken as he looks at you through heavy lids–

Well, everyone except for Javier. He’d honestly forgotten that the other man’s still here—that anyone’s here, really—but now his presence encompasses all of Charles’ attention.

“Alright, amor, you’ve had your fun,” he tells his partner. His tone speaks of mild amusement, though there is a sliver of something there—something dark and wanting, ravenously so—that leaves their breath hitching. To Charles, “It wasn’t very nice of them, starting something they know they can’t finish– Not tonight, at least. But don’t worry, ‘mano—next time, we got you.”

The words feel like they’re caught somewhere between a promise and a threat, but Charles finds that that only adds to their appeal. The pair of you say your goodbyes then, first to him and then to the group at large. A chorus of wolf-whistles and teases are given in response, with everyone having a pretty good idea of why you’re cutting out early, but if they suspect his role in things they’re kind enough not to mention it.

As Charles watches your retreating forms he runs a shaky hand through the length of his hair only to find that the motion doesn’t bring him the stability that it usually does. How can it, when he can still feel your phantom touch, the exquisite bite of your nails against the sensitive skin of his scalp…

These memories will continue haunt him, he’s sure—unable to be exorcised in full until he’s lying sweat-slicked and sated between two equally worn-out bodies.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?”

Javier’s thrusts can only be described as punishing, more so due to depth and force than speed. Your body jolts forwards with every snap of his hips, but the firm hold he has on the scarf that binds your arms keeps you from going too far—not that you want to be anywhere else but here, completely laid bare and at the mercy of the man at your back. The word ‘mercy’ used very loosely here as he is being absolutely ruthless and you’re loving every second of it.

Face down and ass up, he’s had you bent over the desk from nearly the moment you stepped into your bedroom, only stopping long enough to tie your arms behind your back. In all honesty you’re pretty sure this is the true reason he pushed so hard for its inclusion in the room—there’s definitely more appropriate spaces for it—but whatever. It’s not like you can complain when it gets such frequent use.

So yes, this exactly what you want, what you need…

“I asked you a question, baby, and I expect an answer,” he continues on in a low, demanding tone.

You try to reply, you swear you do, but whatever it is you manage to slur out between moans isn’t an adequate enough reply. Javier’s voice drops to something just above a true whisper as he leans more fully against you—close enough that you swear you can feel the beat of his heart against your back, close enough to feel the pant of his breath ghosting over your skin—with the sinuous roll of his hips slowing further.

“Forgot how to use your words already?” he tsks against the shell of your ear. “That’s okay, cariño. I know you wanna be good for me, so I’m gonna help you out…” Taking your confused sounding whimper for the question it is he chuckles before saying, “How? It’s easy—Imma fuck the answer out of you.” ((sweetie))

Before you can fully process his words he’s unwinding his hand from the cloth, pulling back, and pounding into you quick and hard. The feeling has you gasping out his name followed by a babbled yes-yes-YES that leaves him growling out his approval. He calls you his good baby then and the small bit of praise makes your brain fizz as your body reacts on instinct. Eager hips throw themselves back to meet his thrusts; though your positioning doesn’t really allow for much traction your efforts do earn you a few moans and curses of approval, at least.

“Mierda. Look at you. You like being fucked hard, huh? Like me taking you like this?” The words are little more than a rumble with how low his voice has dropped, and the change in timbre leaves you clenching up around him more. “Fuuck babe—that’s it, that’s– Fuck. Yeah, you love this shit. That why you were being such a little tease, yeah? Did you want me to fuck you ‘til you remember who you belong to?” ((shit))

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer this time, choosing instead to take your jaw in hand. His grip is just this side of bruising and well at odds with the gentle way his thumb strokes over your bottom lip. Your tongue snakes out mindlessly to flick at its calloused pad and you hum at the slightly salty taste of his skin. Javier hisses out a curse as you continue to lave over the digit, and you can practically feel his narrow-eyed stare from where it’s sure to be drilling into the back of your skull. Unwilling to relinquish even the least bit of control just yet, his palm slides downwards until it’s resting firmly against your neck. Long fingers easily encase the column, and while he doesn’t squeeze nearly as hard as he had been before there is a definite and steady pressure there. You know he’d sooner hurt himself before he would ever risk truly hurting you, but there’s still something undeniably alluring about feeling like you’re on the edge of something so dark and dangerous.

Your moan is slightly strangled as you lean more heavily into his hand, with your hole clenching especially hard as the oxygen vacates your lungs. In turn Javi grunts at the sensation even as his fingers squeeze just that little bit tighter, and in that moment you’re sure that a death of a different kind is close at hand. Spanish is falling from his lips much faster than your addled mind can ever hope to translate, but when he does finally switch back over to English he’s hardly saying anything you want to hear.

“What?” He gives a particularly hard thrust as you croak out the word, leaving you to damn near choke on it.

“You heard me, amor—don’t. You. Cum. After the shit you pulled tonight did you honestly think I was gonna let you cum so easily?”

Your replying whine is pitiful indeed, not that you actually expect to receive any sort of reprieve at this point. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder and giving him your best pout. For his part your man mimics your expression, giving your neck a few soothing strokes before allowing his lips to pull off into a devious little smirk.

“Aww, look at you. There’s no need for all that, baby, I’m gonna give you what you want—not that you’ve actually earned it, not yet. You’ve been especially bratty lately; playing all these games, teasing me… I can’t just let that shit slide, so here’s how this is going to work: I’m gonna keep fuckin’ you good ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep, and you’re gonna take it for as long as I say. When I decide that you’ve learned your lesson I’ll let you cum, and if you go over the edge before then there will be consequences.”

And you know he’s as good as his word.

Despite him saying all of this between pants, sharp curses, and a few breathy moans there’s no way in hell you actually stand a chance of outlasting him. Even if his stamina wasn’t god-tier and his will just as solid, pure pettiness would see him holding out if it meant keeping you on the edge. And as for those ‘consequences’, you cannot even begin to guess at what they may be, but a part of you really, really wants to find out. You’re positive you’ll enjoy it—maybe not as much as him, but you’ll still have your fun.

Before you can make up your mind about whether or not your defiance would be worth it, his hand is leaving your neck to hold your hip steady. You gasp slightly, already lamenting the loss of pressure, only to have the breath knocked out of you by his next thrust. The force of it sends you reeling, with the only thing keeping you from face-planting being the hold your man has on you. Instead your sweat-slicked body is shoved further up the desk in a move that would’ve been extremely uncomfortable if you weren’t already so gone.

Wanting a bit more agency, Javi grabs up the length of cloth that dangles between you; his movements do not falter as he shores up his grip with a few twisting motions before pushing into you again and again and again. He sets up a brutal pace that sees his hip bones digging into the plush of your ass and his balls slapping against you with every forward push. This is the only bit of attention that anything other than your hole has received since leaving the party and you damn near sob at the brief flashes of stimulation.

You’re not even sure what nonsense is pouring out of your mouth at this point, but if it’s anything like the disjointed garble that’s currently floating around in your skull then it’s one flaming wreck of a mess. You can hardly go by Javier’s reaction as you’re pretty sure that you could be singing lullabies and he’d still be into it. He just loves to hear you—it doesn’t particularly matter what sounds you’re making so long as he knows they’re a result of the pleasure he’s bring you. You’re much the same honestly, though listening to him turn the velvety syllables of his native tongue into growls and groans in the heat of his passion is its own type of torture. His voice is already an aphrodisiac in its own right, but when he’s fallen as deeply into his lust as he has into you it becomes something otherworldly.

Your man’s words slowly begin to shift from admonishments for your earlier behavior into praise for “–taking your cock like un buen pequeño amor,” and you can only hope that means you’ll get what you need sooner rather than later. ((a good little love))

Time stops making sense as he continues to take you. You’re both hyperaware of its passage and not, with seconds impossibly feeling like hours, but the minutes they bleed into hardly even registers. Your need for release becomes this all-encompassing thing that dictates your every move, breath, and thought. It creates a thrumming want that invades all of your senses until there’s nothing outside of it. Even Javi’s voice becomes little more than a cluster of sounds that you’re just barely able to perceive, though one phrase breaks through the haze every time he says it:

“Don’t you cum, cariño.”

His words are both boon and bane.

They’re the only bit of sense to be found in the symphony of needy sounds and hammering hearts and the repetitive meeting of flesh, and yet at the same time they are the very chains that hold you back from the one thing you need most. Your body is demanding, screaming, begging for this to end one way or another, and soon. You’re sure that each new thrust will bring about your end, and yet you hold yourself back even as your legs shake from exertion and your arms ache from the strain. Those four words will not allow you to do any less.

When the tension in your arms lessens you honestly think the limbs have finally gone numb, but then you’re being pulled up against Javier’s hard chest and you realize he actually let go of the scarf. The jarring pace he’d been keeping up slows to a gentle roll that makes you grind into him with a desperate whimper before he stills his hips altogether. His lack of movement has you rutting against him like some crazed beast, but the only thing this nets you is a throaty chuckle that makes you throb all the more.

“Tan ansioso,” he breathes against your ear as well-toned arms pin you flush against an equally muscled chest. This leaves you unable to do anything more than whine, much to your annoyance and his continued amusement. “You really want to cum, don’t you?” ((so eager))

“Fuck! Javi, you know I do–”

“Then say the word, mi corazón.” ((sweetheart))

“Please.”

“‘Please’, what?”

“Please let me cum.”

The moan he lets out at your words comes from somewhere deep in his gut making you shiver with your want. The only thing better than hearing him make such deliciously wicked sounds is knowing that you’re their cause. He’s always so quick to tell you that he’s the only one that can make you feel the way that you do—and it’s true, he definitely gotten you addicted to his particular brand of carnality, but it’s fine since you know it goes both ways.

Javier presses a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your nape before nipping the skin there. “So good,” he purrs as his left hand snakes up to rub at your steadily leaking core. “Un bebé tan bueno para mí.” ((such a good baby for me))

His hand passes through the mess, smearing your arousal further until he’s zeroing in on your most sensitive area; all the while your hips wiggle against him in a desperate bid to rut into his palm properly. Unfortunately the movement does little for either of you aside from frustrating you further.

“There you go, teasing me again.”

“‘M not trying to,” you tell him, “just wanna feel good—wanna make us both feel good…”

Your trailing sigh turns into a moan when he thrust against you again. The movement is spastic, an involuntary response to the way that your walls flutter around him. He swears lowly before releasing you completely and pulling out; the sensation of his thick cock leaving you is good for all of two seconds before you realize that he’s not pushing back into you. For one panicked moment you think that he’s going to leave you tied up and aching, but before you can even form the first syllable of your plea he’s freeing your arms and turning you to face him. It’s the first time you’ve gotten a clear look at him since being bent over the desk and you’re pleased to find that he looks just as much of a mess as you do. Hair mussed, lips parted ever so enticingly, cheeks flushed, and dewy skin glistening so prettily under the warm-hued lights—he’s sex personified in this moment and the sight somehow makes you burn for him all the more.

Javier is drinking you in just as readily, being, as always, especially taken with your mouth. Heavily lidded eyes track your lips movements as you wet them, and when you bite into the plush skin he lets out a shuddering breath. A muttered “Fuck” is all the warning you get before his lips are crashing into yours while hands eagerly grip at your hips to pull you flush to him. The heat of his cock is like a firebrand between you, and the press of it against your skin has you instinctively writhing against it.

Your movements leave him shivering as he exhales harshly—the first sign that his self-control is starting to slip.

“Get on the bed, mi amor—wanna look in your eyes while I fuck you, wanna see you fall apart…” He breathes the words against your lips before taking the bottom one between his teeth just as you had a moment ago. The sting of his bite is soothed away by a swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing you again.

Somehow he has enough presence of mind to get you both moving and soon you feel something solid, yet yielding hitting the back of your legs. You’re just wobbly enough for the disturbance to take you off of your feet and Javier readily follows you down. So close to the one thing you both want, need, the kisses grow sloppier and more hurried. It takes a few moments for you both to get into a more settled position, but as soon as you do he’s lubing up again before pushing into you completely with one long stroke.

Your breath catches at the feeling of being full once again while he lets out a sound that’s half contented sigh, half growl, with the latter completely overtaking the former when you roll your hips up to meet his. The pace he sets is far less grueling than it had been when he was taking you from behind, but it’s no less maddening for the change. Long, deep strokes end with a languid snap that has him hitting something inside of you that leaves you damn near sobbing every time. It doesn’t take long for you to get back to that same level of torturous pleasure that you’d been drowning in minutes before and soon you’re clawing at his back and calling out his name like it’s the only word left in your lexicon.

All the while your eyes are locked with one another’s, mostly at his insistence. When he said that he wanted to see you fall apart he meant it; a firm hand against the side of your face keeps you from turning away while tutting words part your lids whenever they flutter shut for longer than a few seconds.

“You’re doing so well, mi amor, so good,” he tells you. His words are slightly slurred and you know he’s just as drunk on you as you are on him. The thought leaves your walls clenching and he hisses at the added tightness. His pace quickens as he drops his head down into the space between your shoulder and your neck. Kisses, nips, and sucks carve a path upwards until the warmth of his breath is ghosting over your ear. “Touch yourself for me.”

It’s an order that you’re all too happy to follow.

Your fingers quickly move down to work against your sloppy sex and you can only hope that the whole ‘no cumming until I say so’ thing is no longer in effect because if not you are in so much trouble. With everything going on you’re only gonna be able to last about a literal minute and that’s being hella generous and rounding way up, honestly. Javier knows this, knows you and your body damn near better than you do some days. He sees it in the way your eyes glint with desperation, can feel it in the way your whole body tenses just so, can hear it in the pant of breaths that come quicker, shallow. Part of you worries that he’ll drag things out just to punish you further—or worse yet, leave you wound up and wanting—but a bigger part of you knows he’s not that cruel. Javier always makes sure to give you what you need and right now you need to cum, badly, and so does he if the fevered look in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Yes, babe, yes. Just like that, fuck me back—Joder! Tan buena…” His muttered praises become more and more scattered as his hips begin to meet yours faster and faster until— ((fuck! so good))

“Do it for me, mi amor. Cum.”

Your body doesn’t hesitate to follow the simple command, and the orgasm that rocks your frame is almost blinding in its intensity. A wordless cry rips itself from your throat as bliss—white-hot and all-consuming—skitters across your every nerve setting them alight. All the while you hold on to the man that still hovers above you as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this plane, and for all you know he is. After all, you’re pretty sure that one cannot experience something so world-shattering as this and not ascend to some higher form of consciousness, if only for a moment.

For his part, Javier shudders and bucks his way through his own release just as you’re coming to the end of yours. Your nails follow the length of his spine as you watch him fall apart—eyes pinched shut, chest heaving, lips parted under hard pants—he rarely looks more beautiful than when he’s cumming and the sight is one that you’re positive you’ll never get tired of seeing.

Kisses are traded between shaky breaths as you both work your way through the last of the aftershocks. They’re sweet, lingering things that are seemingly at odds with everything that preceded them—only not really as he’s always like this once your games have come to their end. All loved up, he likes to keep you close so that he can dote on you as much as you’ll allow him to. Feeling safe, warm, and sated, gentle strokes of his hands against your cooling flesh and murmured declarations of love are the lullaby that sees you drifting off into slumber.

© thepuckishrogue/TheViperQueen, 2019-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #here comes the fiiiiic~ lol #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x gn!reader #javier escuella x gender neutral reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella x y/n