#but it's nice and cool out back in the “boot room”

[wileys-russo]

Emily fox, on the pitch, (sarcastically) “aw baby I’m sorry did that hurt”

I’m thinking enemies to flirts to lovers

frenemies II e.fox

"well good morning sunshine!" lotte laughed as you sat down beside her with a huff, dropping your bag to the ground and rummaging through it with a hum.

"woke up on the wrong side of the bed did we?" the girl teased pulling on her boots as you sighed. "you have no idea. this is going to be a long day!" you warned as the girl squeezed your shoulder sympathetically, the pair of you falling into conversation.

you smelled her before you saw her, the familiar waft of perfume hitting you before the sound of her laugh did, glancing up to see her walk in with alessia, chirpy grin on her face as usual.

"now now, play nice today even if you are grumpy!" lotte warned with a grin as you knocked your knee against hers with a playful roll of your eyes. "its not me whose the problem lots, you know that better than most." you quipped tugging your socks up as emily sat down across the room.

catching her eye yours rolled again as she sent you a wink, tuning back into her conversation with alessia. "i know you're both as bad as each other, she's been here for months now. wave the white flag! be the bigger person." lotte cautioned gently.

"so you admit she's not the bigger person? so she is in fact, the problem?" you grinned gleefully as your friend sighed at the take. "theres that selective hearing. you might want the long sleeve, we're set for rain!" lotte warned as you groaned quietly and unzipped your bag again.

though as you pulled out the top you quickly realised the number on it was not yours and pushed it hastily back in. "i'll survive." you brushed off her concerns as lotte only shrugged. "come on miss holland, off we go." you teased pulling her beanie down over her eyes and standing.

"not again with the tom holland reference! i don't look like him at all." lotte groaned in annoyance as you only grinned. "no i think its more like one of the robbers from home alone." your smile dropped at the familiar voice, lotte shoving emily with a playful glare before walking off with alessia.

"fox." you greeted shortly, the pair of you following after the girls in front who'd fallen into their own conversation. "as if the english weather isn't cold enough, that tones gonna give me hypothermia." the american shuddered rubbing at her arms as you rolled your eyes.

"oh come on! that was funny, you're allowed to laugh!" emily protested as you strode ahead, hurrying after you. "maybe at you, never with you." you warned, holding back a smile as your boots touched grass and you were able to hurry off to another group of girls.

your mood didn't improve during training, in fact it only got worse as indeed lotte was right and the skies opened up, the rain pouring down the last fifteen or so minutes of training.

given it was the last one before the game this weekend you didn't let it stop you, pushing through at the management teams instructions, breaking off into smaller teams for a round robin of games and a cool down.

all morning emily had been trying to get on your last nerve, her own patience wearing thin as you ignored her time and time again taking lottes advice to be the bigger person albeit the white flag.

but as the rain became near torrential and suddenly you were taken down to the ground a lot harder than necessary considering you'd already given up the ball your tolerance grated.

again and again your back hit the turf with only one culprint taking your legs out each time, your training top coated with mud and bib soggy against your chest as beth whipped a goal into the top corner to end the game and the whistles to finish training finally blew.

right as you'd completed the pass to her again your legs were swept out, wincing as your ass thumped into the ground but you clapped at beths goal none the less not wanting to be a bad teammate.

"aw baby i'm sorry, did that hurt?" a smirk hovered over you accompanied by an american accent and a very punchable face as the girl held out her hand to help you up.

with a glowering scowl sent up at her you smacked her hand away, climbing to your own feet and storming away, hearing her follow after you as the rest of the girls sprinted back into the building to shower and change before media.

but right as you went to step foot into the locker room a hand grabbed yours, tugging you away into one of the recovery rooms as the door closed with a click.

you sighed deeply at the grin which shone back at you, crossing your arms and glaring at her when she refused to move out of the way of the door.

"come on stop the frowning. i said i was sorry!" the american laughed stepping closer as you shook your head. "that doesn't mean i have to accept your apology." you reminded firmly, unwavering as she rolled her eyes.

"no. but only one of us is currently wearing something with a collar and ah...the rain has not been kind to you." emily tutted her hand moving to settle on your shoulder and you hissed as her thumb pressed into a deep red mark on your neck and you smacked it away.

with a groan you moved toward a mirror in the corner, turning your head left and right inspecting the marks you'd covered this morning before leaving, the rain indeed having washed most of the concealer off.

"this is your fault fox!" you advanced toward her as she only smiled, meeting you chest to chest. "yeah. so?" she challenged with a quirk of her eyebrow, your mouth opening and closing trying to find a comeback.

"exactly. you weren't saying anything last night when they appeared!" emily grinned cheekily as you only huffed, shoving her and making a beeline for the door before her hand grabbed yours and twirled you so you wound up chest to chest with her again.

"kind of hard to with your tongue down my throat." you scoffed only widening her beaming grin, her face near split in half as tattooed fingers traced the hickies with a feather light touch.

"let me take you to dinner tonight." now that did catch you off guard, stepping away from her with a frown. ever since she'd signed the american had wedged her way under your skin, the pair of you clashing heads and forever arguing, broken up and told off by your teammates.

though it never translated to the pitch, the two of you working seamlessly together down the right side much to everyones shock given how you seemed to loathe one another in every other sense.

but little did they know it was due to the release you two had figured out helped your contempt for one another, and for weeks now the two of you had been sneaking around one anothers beds, always gone by the morning and never more than that.

so you'd hardly expected these words to come out of her mouth.

"what?" you managed out in shock, emily stepping closer with a nod. "dinner. at a nice restaurant, the two of us. tonight ideally!" the defender explained, sticking by her words.

"but thats not-thats not what we do." you declined with a shake of your head as she shrugged unfazed by the rejection.

"well there has to be some middle ground in this enemies to lovers pipeline, you think you hate me but really you don't even know me. i'd like to change that, to change whatever this is." emily confessed confidently again catching you off guard.

when you didn't reply the girl only grinned, pulling off her spray jacket and handing it to you to put on to cover the marks on your neck.

"great, i'll pick you up at seven then baby. wear something...dry! oh and i want that jacket back, since someone else stole my long sleeve." she winked teasingly, and just like that she was gone.

#woso #woso community #emily fox #emily fox x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

[dduane]

Right.

This thing's not gonna roast itself...

This is for a Middle Kingdoms recipe (but this approach is also long established on our version of Earth). Pumpkin or butternut squash slices are tossed in olive oil, laid out in the pans and sprinkled with chili flakes and a little salt. Whole peeled garlic cloves get inserted here and there; the whole business then sprinkled with oregano (though in the Kingdoms they'd be more likely to go for sage or thyme). A few thyme sprigs are scattered here and there. Then everything goes into the oven and gets roasted at 200° C / 400° F for about 40 minutes.

Some people like to add small chunks of feta or similar sheep's milk cheese to this. I usually give that a pass, both because I'm not a big feta fan and because I like not to have to take a lactase pill sometimes...

So now the result:

...And now for dinner. :) (In the background, @petermorwood is making small new-ish potatoes roasted in duck fat. "Well, the oven's hot, why waste the energy...?")

Meanwhile, the other half of the pumpkin remains to be dealt with. Tomorrow, a regional/seasonal Steldene delicacy: pumpkin tarts with hard Teinakh cheese and spiced pumpkin-flour pastry. They're gonna look so weird—pumpkin flour tends to turn things dark, if not positively green—but the flavor...! :)

#cooking #food #Middle Kingdoms meta #pumpkin #roasted pumpkin #I mean the thing's been sitting there since Halloween #and it never got jack-o-lantern'd #but it's nice and cool out back in the “boot room” #so it never went bad #just sat there looking hopeful every time i walked by #and there's ONE set of hopes realized eventually #the least i could do

[stargirl-int3rlud3]

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬.

monkey d. luffy x fem! reader

🗯 ! swearing, old man being gross, kicking ass, sexualizing, injuries, luffy being a cutie pie per usual !

synopsis; luffy notices a girl being hit on by a creepy old man and informs his crew of the occurrence as he goes to try to break up the interaction. unbeknownst to luffy, she can handle herself. — ♡ ᵎᵎ

You had walked into an establishment hoping for a nice meal and something to quench your thirst. After days of the beating sun on your skin your body needed rest to recharge. The place looks nice enough and to be fair it was. a blonde waiter took your order, of course he was clearly flirting with you but you took it more as a compliment as he told you how beautiful your hair was. You had no idea letting one person harmless flirt with you would lead to this.

A much older looking man approaches you as you're enjoying your meal.

With a smirk on his face he says, "Nice ass, young lady"

The vulgar use of language caught you off guard as you choke on your food for a split second.

"Excuse me?" You ask in a squeaky voice.

"You heard me, nice ass" He chuckles loudly, gaining unnecessary attention towards you two.

He seats himself next to you, far too close for comfort. This makes you scoot away from him. A frown flashes on his face as he grabs the legs of your chair, moving you even closer to him than before. You could feel his god awful breath on your skin and you swear you could vomit right now.

Luffy watches the whole thing go down and for the second time in his life, he isn't hungry anymore as he witnesses the old man attempt to grope and grab at you. Luffy thought you were a pretty girl and he knew that you didn't deserve to be treated that way. He tells his crew that about the situation. Before Luffy can step any closer the old man flies across the room into another table.

The aggravation in your eyes was more than obvious as your leg was stuck out from kicking the man. A small group of men race towards you as you roll your eyes. All you had wanted was a meal and drink, apparently that was too much to ask for.

You take out two of the men with a kick to the face from your leg. You flip backwards, your palms on a table, shooting your heeled boots into another guy's face. You grab hold of a chair smashing into a guys face, you use it to boost yourself into the air, you flew in the air like an angel. Landing gracefully back onto flat ground you dust your hands off with a satisfied smile. A guy perks back up causing you elbow to him in the face making him fall back down.

You take your leave, setting money down on the table of your empty dishes. However, you weren't able to get far before Luffy approaches you.

"Hey!"

You swivel around to be met with a Brazillian boy with dark chocolate hair and eyes to match well with his honey skin. He has a wide smile across your face.

"Yes?" You respond.

"That was so cool! Would you like to be apart of my pirate crew!" He asks with a cute smile, a group of people follow behind him.

Looking at them and then back to his beautiful eyes that wait for your response, you smile, "Sure! Why not!"

As if you had just hung the stars for the boy, he looks at you and somehow his smile grows wider than ever. He jumps up punching the air, letting out a loud laugh before his feet hit the ground once more.

You can't help but giggle at his cute mannerisms.

☆ | kind of short, but i had the urge to write for my cutie patootie luffy!!

#luv₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧ #opla #one piece live action #one piece #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #opla luffy x reader #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla luffy

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #the boy is mine challenge #eddie munson x y/n

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 29 - "That's all? Easy."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: I sometimes like to headcannon that Danny is actually a rich kid that doesn't live the rich kid style cause his parents use their money for their research and like to live a simple life. He goes to galas Vlad or Sam drag him to as his parents representative.

Damian had been prepared for another boring Gala to go through. His elder siblings as well as Pennyworth had made sure to take away any sharp blade he had on him beforehand. With the blades gone Damian refused to socialize with high society. What was the point in enduring the torture of pinched cheeks and repeating comments with double meanings and hidden insults as well as the 'boot' lickers, as one of his brothers liked to put it, when he wasn't allowed to return the favor these people were giving him with a quick blade swipe.

So Damian was hanging back, retreating to the corners and shadows of the room where people aside from his family wouldn't notice him. But being there gave him the chance to notice something else. At first Damian didn't think much of it but with the minutes passing he noticed it more and more.

Small colorful page markers.

He started tracking them. Eyes going from person to person as he scanned them for these markers. Always in spots and placements oneself wouldn't notice them on their own as well as by others around them. Sometimes they were even Color matched with the person's outfit.

Damian scanned the hall and his eyes landed on a teenager, younger than Drake but older than him. The other boy was gliding through the people seemingly effortlessly and unnoticed towards the snack table. Once there the teen appeared to be interested in what sort of food the gala was offering.

His eyes narrowed as he eyed the people the teen had passed.

A blue marker by the belt loop of an older gentleman.

Red marker on the purse of the lady dressed in purple.

Green marker on another man's vest.

He was sure these markers weren't on them before. Interesting, he missed before moving towards the teenager by the snack table. The boy by now had piled up one of the small plates high with some of the overhead foods and Damian first felt reminded of everting Todd went to a gala and immediately would go for the foods.

"You are quite sneaky." He spoke up after waiting somewhat politely for the other to acknowledge his presence. Which never happened even after five minutes and Damian having clearly seen the other looking at him from his corner of the eye.

"Oh, what do you mean?" The teen then said after swallowing a bite of food.

"I presume the page markers are what you're doing?"

"Damit, not even an hour in and I am already busted." The teenager muttered and Damian arched an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know whose rich kid you are but will stop as long as you don't tell the fruitloop. I am here to represent my parents and if this fruitloop hears I am playing the game Sam invented for these galas he will-"

"I believe you misunderstood my intention." Damian smirked as he held out a hand. "My family found it adequate to take my blades. So I want in on this 'game' you are playing."

The teenager blinked at Damian before a grin spread across his face. He hurriedly placed his plate on the table before rummaging around in one of his pockets."Well that is a nice change! Your not a stuck up like the other kids here."

A block of green, red and blue page markers were then placed in Damians held out hand. "I am Danny Fenton by the way, representative of Fentonworks."

"Damian Wayne." He answered out of reflex as he inspected the page markers given to him, uncaring if the teen would now start fawning over his last name like he had seen others do before.

"Cool. So want to make it more interesting? This is more fun in a two player setting then one player." Damian inclined his head, not letting the surprise of the other teens lack of reaction towards his name show. Well it looked like Daniel, because what else got the name Danny stand for, would be nice company for this gala.

"Let's make specific targets for each other, maybe even placements. Sam always dares me to do specific things. If one of us gets caught is an automatic loss, the one with the highest successful placements at the end of this gala is the winner."

He smirked. Daniel had no chance, a game like this was easy for him. This was going to be an easy win. His league training as well as the training his father had made him go through was going to give him a clear advantage. He was playing with the thought of giving Daniel a chance by not using certain skills but after the first three targets, Damian decided that that would be unnecessary.

The gala went by faster, the two pointing out specific people or placements of the marketers to each other. They both had surprisingly their fair share of failures as well as success. In the end they both had a draw and were on their last page marker to place.

"This is going to be the final decision between, win, loss or draw." Daniel hyped up the game and Damian shook his head lightly at the others foolishness that reminded him of Jon.

"Well then, it would be only right to select the most difficult targets for each other."

"Well if that's the case, see the guy over there, the one with gray hair and a ponytail? That's the fruitloop. Place your last marker right to the left on his lower back, where his jacket covers over his belt."

Damian arched an eyebrow but the teen only grinned. He smirked if the other wanted to make it apparently difficult then Damian could provide him with a real challenge. "For you target, my father is currently talking to this 'fruitloop' as you call him. Place the marker on his back on his left shoulder blade."

Daniel would not be able to so, his father was vigilant and despite his act, very aware of his surroundings. His newly made gala acquaintance would fail and Damian would be the winner of this game.

"That's all? Easy."

The two boy's started to move towards the two adults. They shared one last glance before splitting up slightly in two different directions to approach their targets. Damian was close, his steps silent as he neared his target the 'fruitloop'. The page marker was tagged to the tip of one of his fingers. Once he was close enough he would be able to place it without even having to get too close.

His father noticed him and Damian gave him a polite smile as he moved like he was going to pass the man in his way towards his father. He did however not anticipate for his target to place his hand on the hip obscuring his target placement. Damian's hand instantly hid his hand behind his back transferring the page tag to his other hand and unconsciously clicked his tongue. He would have to try again.

"Fruitloop! Who are you talking to?!" He heard Daniel shout out of nowhere suddenly, his head wiping around to see the other clapping his hand on his fathers shoulder. The shoulder where he had told the other to place the marker. Damian ground his teeth. He was not going to accept a loss here.

"Daniel! Where are your manners?! This is Bruce Wayne. CEO of Wayne Enterprise. I am so sorry Mr.Wayne."

"No worries Mr.Masters. He is just like how my sons were at his age. It is good for teens to be so full of energy."

Damian narrowed his eyes as the other teen gave him a peace sign and mouthed the words 'I won.' As the adults returned to their discussion Damian glared at Daniel, his last page tag crumpled in his hand, he switched to stand on his fathers other side so that he was next to the teen now.

"I demand a rematch." He hissed agitated, to which Daniel only grinned wider. "Sure. The next time we see each other at a gala again. I will have two packs ready for our rematch."

Later that night when Damian had returned home from the Gala, he took off his jacket only to notice something green peaking through the folds of it. As he lifted it to inspect where the Color on it game from his eyes narrowed and his grip on the jacket tightened. On his jacked he found several green page markers tagged on it one of them even had a little ghost drawn on it. "Well played Fenton, well played."

#fictober23 #danny fenton #dp x dc #danny phantom #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #damian wayne #Vlad masters #bruce wayne #Danny and Sam play a game with page markers during galas #Danny was playing it alone #until Damian noticed and wanted in on it #if he can't stab rude people #then he can at least tag them with page markers #headcannon that Danny is a rich kid too #he just lives simpler than Sam #his parents have to have some money to finance their research #Damian and Danny are just having some fun during the gala #gala shenanigans #Bruce knows Danny placed something on his should he just can't react on it for his Brucie act #Vlad was just in the middle of explaining something when he placed his hand on the hip #he had no idea that Danny was playing that game again #Damian now wants a rematch #the next gala they meet on is going to be fun

[penny00dreadful]

Can't start another WIP she said, bitch she fuckin LIED. Personal Assistant Steve to Rockstar Eddie snippet. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Smoke curled lazily above them in the slightly chilly night air. Neither of them had bothered to put any clothes back on but they were still warm enough from previous activities so it didn’t really matter.

The guy, Jake? John? James? J- Julian! That was it. Julian was standing next to him just out of arms reach now that the horny haze between the two of them had worn off.

Eddie supposed that was to be expected.

The poor guy probably had no idea if he was about to be booted unceremoniously out of a rockstars luxury hotel room after crashing together under a fog of uppers and thumping music at the after party before they both had quickly fumbled their way into Eddie's bed for the night.

He had no idea if fuckin' security or some shit was going to burst through the door and drag him out half or fully naked now that Eddie was done with him.

And it probably hadn't helped that they had been walked in on, they'd barely been in the room a minute before Steve came looking for him, talking a mile a minute about tour schedules and pre-approved interview questions before he'd realised he was looking at Eddie practically humping the guy against a wall.

They'd stopped when Steve walked in obviously but it had been pretty clear what they were doing and Steve, ever the professional had just rolled his eyes and told Eddie he'd be back in the morning.

Julian clearly had no idea if he was safe here now that the deed was done but Eddie wasn't an asshole. He could be a bit callous all right but he wasn't opposed to his hook-ups hanging around for a little bit if they seemed like cool enough people. And the guy seemed nice enough so he didn’t mind letting him stick around.

Julian sighed a little heavily and ran a hand through his muddy blonde hair. “I feel kinda bad now.”

Eddie turned his eyes over to him. “About what? The sex?” He pulled in a drag from his cigarette.

“No!” Julian answered quickly. “No, the sex was great, really. I mean about your... Your assistant? Probably not the easiest thing for him to see.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head. “Steve’s seen much worse, believe me. The stories that man could tell.” He laughed. “It's not the first time he's walked in and it probably won’t be the last but he’s practically immune to it at this stage. He’s dragged me by the hair out of celebrity drug dens, parties… he’s pulled me out of more orgy piles than I can count so you know… no skin off his back. ”

“That’s not really what I meant.”

“What then?”

Julian grimaced and glanced down with a look somewhere between guilty and sad. “You really don’t see it?”

Eddie ashed out his cigarette, shrugging and headed back inside. He wanted to get back into bed, his feet were cold and his body was aching from the show he’d just performed. Honestly he could do with as much sleep as humanly possible but he hadn't any idea what the guy was talking about. He'd meant what he'd said, Steve had seen him in just about every position it was possible for a person to be in pre-sex, mid-sex and post-sex. This was nothing new to him.

Julian followed him back inside and hovered awkwardly at the end of the bed, trying to pick his words and unsure if he should be picking his clothes back up from the floor or getting back into bed.

Eddie pulled the corner of the covers back. “I’m not going to kick you out, you can stay if you want or you can go. Up to you.”

Julian bit his lip but crawled in regardless, lying down to face Eddie. The darkness of the room and the way the two of them were lying facing towards each other felt like some kind of confessional.

“He’s clearly in love with you, dude.”

Eddie couldn’t help the full on belly laugh that came out of his mouth. “Steve?!” He asked incredulously. “No way, man. He’s my P.A. and one of my closest friends. Plus the guy is straight as an arrow. Your gaydar must be off or something.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well… I mean… look at him!”

Steve was… he was the straightest looking man around. All business suits, perfectly styled hair, slightly out of date glasses and ex-jock charisma and physique.

Julian didn’t answer, just cocked an eyebrow at him.

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, okay, I’m stereotyping but like… he fucks women.”

“You fuck women.”

“Rarely.”

“But you still do.”

“Okay… but… he… listen I know Steve, alright? The guy isn’t in love with me.”

Julian shrugged. “I dunno, man. I’m not trying to be an ass, I swear but it was very obvious… to me I guess.” He sighed again then muttered “Maybe I’m just very familiar with that look.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah." He tucked his hands under his head. "See it every time I look in the mirror.”

“Oh. Well shit. Who’re you breaking your heart over?”

“My best friend. Danny.”

Eddie hummed, rolling onto his stomach and shoving his arms under his pillow, rubbing his cheek against the fabric. “Tell me about him.”

Julian broke into a wide but bashful smile, so bright it was practically lighting up the dark room though it was sharply undercut with just a hint of melancholy.

“He’s the most loving, giving person I’ve ever met. He’d only just turned eighteen when both his parents died and out of nowhere he’s got three younger siblings that are now in his care and the guy barely knew how to look out for himself, you know? He once tried to microwave an egg to cook it. But he really stepped up. He grew up. Like, can you imagine being eighteen and having to go to parent-teacher meetings when you’d only just left school yourself and trying to teach his kid brother how to shave or talk his sisters through puberty… he’s just so… you know?”

Eddie wasn’t really sure he did know. This Danny person made him think of Steve, serial adopter of anyone even remotely younger than him. Sometimes older than him, if Eddie was to count himself. The kind of person who seemed to make it their life's mission to take care of others. He could see the appeal of Best-Friend-Danny, honestly. Steve probably had better hair though. He always had better hair.

“And Danny’s straight?”

“No.” Julian frowned. “He’s not. And I don’t know if that makes things worse. Because he could choose me. But he never has. Over and over and over again, he hasn’t chosen me. He probably never will. And I need him in my life. So I’ve learned to deal with just friends. It’ll... It'll be good enough.”

“Fuck, that’s heavy. I’m sorry man, sounds like it sucks.”

“It does suck. Sucks dick and balls, actually.”

Eddie allowed himself a little giggle at that but the whole situation had wound itself around his brain. Not for the first time he was forced to remember that there are other people out there, other people like him and other people nothing like him who use music, use sex, use drugs and drink and anything else they can get their hands on just to alter their minds for a few hours. Just to forget and get away from it all. Unfortunately this poor guy seemed stuck in the kind of tragedy poets have been writing about for hundreds of years.

They didn’t share any more words, both dropping off to sleep fairly quickly, lost in their own thoughts.

The next morning they shuffled around each other, lazy and easy now that any post-sex awkwardness had left, grumbling and sore from the show, the various substances they’d ingested, the after party and the sex from the night before.

They took turns in the hotel room's quite frankly obscenely fancy shower.

Julian slowly pulled his clothes back on, wincing whenever he had to bend his back while Eddie made it easy on himself, just throwing on his usual ancient and ratty lounging clothes.

The things Julian had said to him the night before were all but forgotten. Because it wasn't even something that was worth considering in Eddie's mind.

Steve? In love with him?

It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his life. Steve was like some kind of clean cut poster boy for straightness.

Even if he wasn't straight they'd just be downright incompatible in every other sense of the word. He was punctual, a morning person, he exercised for fun, he watched sports, he was a bitch and he was always so put together.

Eddie... Eddie was none of those things.

Maybe he could be a bit of a bitch.

Sometimes.

Plus, even if it was true and that was a big if, Eddie wasn't in love with him back, so like...

Nothing would ever come of it anyway.

Just before Julian left, Eddie beckoned him back over.

The kiss wasn’t romantic, or heated. If anything it was downright platonic, like closing the book on their short story together.

“For luck.” Eddie smiled and patted him lightly on the chest, watching as Julian turned and left the room, his own small smile on his face.

It was nearly a half an hour later and Eddie was really getting into whatever episode of Real Housewives he’d stumbled upon, he wasn't sure, when Steve walked through the door, carrying a large and violently pink strawberry frappuccino with him.

Eddie made greedy, grabby hands at it from his lounged position on the bed. “You’re a saint.” He said, snatching it up.

“I’m aware.” Steve replied with a dry tone, hands on his hips.

Eddie gulped back two bitingly cold mouthfuls. “No, seriously, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me I swear to god." He gulped down another mouthful, ignoring the sharp throb in his teeth. "You gonna watch?” He gestured to the tv. “I think we’re a few episodes behind.”

Steve scoffed. “While I’d love nothing more than to sit on your dirty sex sheets, I have an actual job to do. Y’know, I have to organise your whole damn life-”

“Excuse you, I have an actual job too!”

“Drugs are not an actual job, Eds.”

“Tell that to a pharmacist.”

“Whatever. Drink your disgusting sugar and cream concoction and try not to get into too much trouble today. We're back on the tour bus at 6am sharp!” Steve started slowly backing towards the door, pointing at him. “And do not watch ahead from the last episode we saw together. We’re catching up on it over the weekend.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

Steve’s hands were back on his hips again and Eddie smiled around his straw.

“You’re the bane of my fucking existence, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

Something flashed across Steve’s face, there and gone before it ever settled. A tightening of his mouth, a clench in his jaw, a pinch in his brows, there and gone. Maybe if Julian had never said anything, Eddie wouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if the thought hadn’t been primed he wouldn’t have seen it.

How many times had he not seen it before?

Steve rolled his eyes, as bitchy as ever. “I’ll be back with the car in an hour. Try to look somewhat human by then, please?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him.

Well…

It was probably nothing…

Right?

Part 2 out now! Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #fanfic #steddie fic #penny00dreadful #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #personal assistant steve #personal assistant steve harrington #modern au #somebody to love

[mtkay13]

My version of the wardrobe template! yay!! I had a LOT of fun doing this and feel like I could elaborate a bit more on each of those.

It's already linked up here, but here's once again a > link to the post.< Anyway! More about these designs below!

So first, for WKX's template! - Chapter 2: Grey robes I had already made my design of those for the full TYK lineup I made a while back. I really, really like those, and took inspiration from some of the robes SHL!WKX wears in the show for the shapes. - Chapter 69: dark robes with dark red belt I expected to like that style for him, but not that much! I had seen a tutorial on how asymetrical hanfus were worn by archers in the past and that inspired me, purely on a fashion level of course. I like how intimidating he looks with those and enjoy the touches of blue in the inner layer of the robes. - Chapter 75: dark red robes The GVM robes! which I also designed a while back when researching for the illustrations of the Mt Fengya battle scenes that I wanted to make. I reworked them just a little bit and got rid of some details that I didn't like anymore. I tremendously pleated skirts for WKX so I went at it once again. I also used shifts in hues to make it look like it could have been drenched in blood. - Extra 5: deep red robes For the reminder (since apparently some people are not aware of extra 5's existance), this extra is set 5 years post-canon. I wanted WKX to wear something that looked comfortable for traveling but also practical and fashionable. The teal jacket is of course another nod at SHL since the red and teal combo was an absolute banger. Let's say I didn't want WKX to just sport an all-red look. Furthermore, the teal really works to adorn the red hues. - My personal favourite I actually don't really know whether those are my actual personal favourites, but I've come to LOVE WKX dressed in red and white thanks to @kwehxing's designs. I think it really suits him and on top of that it avoids the question "is this Hua Cheng" LMAO--okay jokes aside, I combined most of the shapes that I really like for WKX (wider shoulders, wide sleeves, and long robes with pleated inner robes) and I find him very elegant like this. Now, for ZZS! - Chapter 1: sapphire blue scholar robes Those had already been designed before as well! They're my go to generic TC!ZZS robes, haha. I was a bit extra with the blue colour here, but oh well. I'm quite obsessed with the silver brocade cynching his waist, haha. - Chapter 2: stolen farmer robes A classic as well as far as I'm concerned--of course, inspired by his hobo fit in SHL because it was quite efficient. I'm forever fond of my scruffy hobo!Xu and his toes poking from his sandals. - Chapter 18: luxurious robes from the Gao family Those were a new design! Which I had a lot of fun coming up with. Putting ZZS in a different colour scheme was also really nice. For those who don't remember, ZZS feels quite ridiculous when he sees himself in a mirror wearing those fancy robes while being so emaciated and still sporting his hobo mask. I wanted to give this "out of place" feeling; and also work on a very "wuxia" style for the robes, since this is jianghu and they were provided by Gao Chong. - Extra 5: black robes I'm incredibly fond of this design. I worked quite a bit on it, since I wasn't sure of where I wanted to go. My main guidelines were: practical and cool. I really like ZZS having a lot of room to move so ideally not too much fabric in the way, and I think he also needs arm braces to be rid of annoying sleeves. Of course, him looking much healthier and having a dynamic ponytail really works to "complete the look", and I find that he looks really cool there haha. - My personal favourite This one has been refined over the months, but it's definitely, overall, my favourite look for him in terms of shapes and construction. I like that the robes are short, I like the more fashionable jacket. I'm especially into the "pants tucked into the boots" silhouette, as well as the little ribbons keeping them tight around the ankles. I'd say that this leg shape + short robes + a bun (or sometimes a ponytail) is THE ZZS design combo for me, haha. It looks practical and fun and adventurous, just how I like it.

To conclude the whole post, I had more fun doing this than I even expected, and needless to say that I'm very excited to see other versions of them following this template. It was a good opportunity to try and project what the characters look like throughout the book, and a fun design exercise as well. I actually don't really like doing character design usually, but for characters I'm obsessed with, it's of course a much nicer experience. Anyway, thank you for reading!

#tian ya ke #wenzhou #meta #character design #wen kexing #zhou zishu #tyk #zzs #wkx

[petpenname]

❣️Red Wine Supernova❣️

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverted(f)reader c.w: weed smoking, insinuated self-pleasure Summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements. Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're A Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: new writer so be nice >:3 sry if the format is a lil fucked

Part One:

I Just Want To Get To Know You

Mornings are your happy place. Your room is your sanctuary, and you greet the day in your usual fashion. Floating around your space listening to music, doing your skincare and makeup, and finding the perfect outfit. This morning, however, was anything short of paradise. Today was the last day of finals week and all the studying and stress got the best of you last night as you completely burnt out of all your routines. You push the empty chip bags and energy drinks aside on your nightstand to make some room for your phone, which is dead. How could you forget to plug it in? 

Opting to check the time on your computer you realize you overslept. There's only twenty minutes to don an outfit before you head to your first exam of the day. You curse yourself first then promise to have a full self care evening after finals are finished. Tossing on some leggings and an oversized hoodie equipped with the Jackson College logo. You do a quick wash of our face, minimal skin care, grab your phone, bag and shoes and you are out the door. 

Thankfully, living a block from campus has its pros. You fast walk the block to campus and b-line for the cafe. Popping in and getting into the short line hoping to see someone who knows your order working. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Sasha working the cash register. 

The barista greeted you, “Morning Y/N! Happy end of finals week!” 

“Morning Sasha, I can’t wait for this week to be over. I'm in a rush this morning so I'll just do my coffee, no pastry please.”

“Sure thing babe” she starts writing in your order, “it'll be out in just a minute.”

You pay and wish each other luck finishing exams. Retiring to a stool on the side of the pickup area, you put your headphones in to try and reclaim some peace in your morning. After a full song plays you glance at the time and realize you have been here for a few minutes too long. Behind the barista station, you see a brown-haired girl facing the back counter. She's moving around like she doesn't know what she's doing and Sasha is watching from the side making small comments. You assume it's a new hire so you wait the extra minute for her to finish with your drink -praying that she doesn't fuck it up and ruin another part of your morning. You zone out to your music again and before you know it you hear your order being called out:  “Medium mocha with half chocolate for.. y/n?” 

You look up and almost choke on your breath as your eyes meet pools of emerald green. Light whips of auburn fly around a flushed face, dotted with freckles. You stumble off the stool and brush fingers with the girl as you grab your coffee, not wanting to take your eyes off her. 

“Sorry it took a minute Y/N, Ellie here is training today” Sasha pipes in from behind. The girl smiles sheepishly as your eyes snap away and focus on the coffee in hand. When did you grab this? 

“Oh, yeah, no problem, thank you!.” you say, trying to recollect yourself. “I’ll see you later Sasha!” 

Heading out the door, the cool air whips the interaction out of your mind, as your only focus now is making it through the rest of the finals day.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

5pm finally rolls around and you let out a sigh as the fresh air hits you while leaving the lecture building. You pull out your phone to check for messages and play some music on your walk back.

You have (7) unread messages:

*H03 Hoes* Olivia: Anyone up for dinner and a movie? I need to dissociate after  this week o.o Ivy: yes I'm there but only if we can get Red Mill Phoebe: I'll be at Daniels tonight :)  Olivia: we know pheebs lol have fun love birds Sage: if we are getting Red Mill im gettin high Ivy: Y/N!!!? Where are youuu?? Phoebe: :D

Staring at the screen you smile in relief, just what you need after a long day; your roommates out of the house, time for yourself. Your last two exams were harder than you expected and all you want to do is order takeout, put on a show, and take a bath. You gather your thoughts and text a response;

*H03 Hoes* Y/N: staying in girls, i need some TLCOlivia: i don't blame you, this week was fucked Ivy: Want us to bring you back a burger? Y/N: that's okay, i'm ordering Thai :) Sage: oh my god you really do need this night, i'm leaving you a joint Y/N: lol thanks sage Olivia: we'll be back by midnight! Have fun ;)

Your roommates were always understanding, you really couldn't have wished for a better housing placement. House 03 was one of ten houses that were off-campus communal housing. You moved into the house a month into your first semester at school. The rest of the girls had time to bond but welcomed you in like another sister. Your introverted tendencies sometimes made you feel like a shut-in as your roommates always had something to do or somewhere to be. Sage was probably the most understanding, she enjoyed staying in also & always shared her stash with you when she did. On the rare occasion you accepted, you and she got stoned and watched shitty TV and ate takeout. 

Finishing your response to the girls, you put on a playlist that you've been loving recently and put your phone away, looking up just in time to come face to face with another person. Bumping into each other you both stumble back in equal confusion.

“Ah fuck, shit, sorry!” says a honey sweet voice.

Y/N: “Oh fuck no im sorry! I was not paying attention” you take out your earbuds and catch your balance as you look up at who you collided with. Green eyes instantly meet yours. Swirls of auburn hair and freckles dance across her face as she smiles and laughs.

“Oh hey, didn't I make your coffee this morning?”

“My what?” you say in confusion.

“Your coffee! At the cafe, I was training this morning. You got like a mocha or something?” the girl rubs her temple trying to remember.

“oh! Oh yeah! That was you” you chuckle, stealing yourself away from her gaze. Holy shit, you completely forgot about this morning, how could you forget about such a pretty girl?

“That's me!" She says. "I'm Ellie, by the way.” She holds out a hand with a sideways smile.

“Im Y/N” shaking her hand, blushing a little.

Ellie: “So where are you in such a rush to, Y/N?” 

You laugh, “nowhere really, home. I'm so over this week.” 

“Same oh my god, I'm almost done with work I just have a drop off to do. Then I'm free!” 

Her goofy enthusiasm was infectious, you felt oddly comfortable with this girl.

“Oh, cool? I'm going that way” you point across and down the street towards the College neighborhood. 

“Me too! Walk together?” Ellie suggests

You nod and set off together. It was a short walk and for the first few steps, you were quiet. Everything happened so fast, the collision, the conversation, and now you're walking together?! That's no big deal, you're just walking together! You steal a glance at the girl beside you. Holy shit how long has she been staring at you? “I'm not even going to ask how your finals went if they were anything like mine!” Ellie laughs, scratching the back of her head  

You chuckle trying not to trip over your own feet, “yeah they were pretty difficult, i'm just glad they are over for now” 

There's not enough conversation to distract you from the growing ball of nerves in your stomach. You keep stealing small glances at the beautiful girl strolling alongside you with such ease and confidence. Before you know it you get to your house walkway, you turn to Ellie

“This is me, uh it was nice meeting you! And thanks for making my coffee” You are suddenly aware of how awkward you feel, trying not to make eye contact.

“Oh yeah no problem,” Ellie leans slightly to look behind you at the house, “you live here? Do you know Sage? I'm here to meet her.” Ellie says, pointing towards your house She's asking about your roommate? Something clicks when you realize you've seen this girl before, no you’ve heard her voice before. Whenever Sage stayed in she would call her dealer, who never came inside but Sage and her would talk on the porch for a bit during the deal.

“Are you Sage’s dealer?” you ask.

“Have you been smoking my shit?” Ellie laughs

“No I mean, sometimes I partake, but yeah Sage is my roommate, um come on up?” 

“Wicked” Ellie follows you up the path and steps and waits at the door as you call into the house.

“I'm home! Sage! You have a visitor!” 

“HI HOME! I'm Sage!” you hear from upstairs as the blonde girl comes bounding down the stairs. “Oh what's up Ellie, sorry you had to deal with her y/n” 

Ellie scoffs behind you, “yeah whatever, you can find a new dealer”

Sage laughs, “And buy from a dude? No way, I support woman-owned businesses. How much do I owe you?”

You bow out subtly during their conversation. Before the two girls make their exchange you are halfway up the stairs. Letting their conversation get muffled as you enter your bedroom. You don’t know why you seclude yourself so much. Social interactions can be so anxiety inducing for you and you were well past spent on interacting this week. 

Tossing your shoes and bag in the corner you collapse on the floor wrapping a blanket around you. Finally safe in your own space. It wasn't long before you heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Sage was knocking on your door.

“Hey babes, you doing okay?” 

You get up, blanket still wrapped around you and shuffle to the door, opening it slightly before leaning on the door frame, looking like a sad puppy.

“Oh y/n it was a long week huh? Well I'll be out of your hair soon. I just wanted to give you this.” she holds out a joint, which you now know came from Ellie.

“Thanks Sage, I might actually spark this tonight.” You smoked with Sage occasionally but never alone.

“It’ll help, light it in the bath! That's my favorite thing to do” Sage beams and hands over the joint, it was beautifully rolled, you almost didn't want to ruin it. She gives you a small squeeze on the arm and blows you a kiss before wishing you a good night and skipping towards her room to get ready for the evening. 

You shut the door and drop the blanket down, giving into a big stretch before locking into self care mode. This is where you really excel, you know the ins and outs of what creates an environment that lets you rest and recoup to the best of your abilities. And currently your room was in disarray from the late nights spent studying and dissociation. You put your headphones in and go to work. It takes half an album to clean up the mess from the previous week. You are feeling much better and continue on your self love ritual. Peaking your head out into the hallway you listen for any sound of your roommates. 

Silence, perfect, Olivia and Ivy must have come and left with Sage while you were cleaning. You pop your headphone back in and continue your groove downstairs to get something to drink and order your take out. While on the call your phone buzzes from a text, thinking nothing of it, it must be one of your roommates. You complete your order and finish up in the kitchen returning to your room for a much needed bath. All focus on yourself.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's nearly an hour later, you've drawn your bath and your take out has arrived. A shitty show you’re half paying attention to plays off your laptop, propped up on the laundry basket. You finish your last spring roll feeling a little bored and you grab your phone, figure you’d scroll some socials for a bit. Flicking on your screen you see you have a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown: “Do you always stay in on a friday night? ;)”

Your hear skips a beat. Your heart rate rises, confused and anxious who got your number? How do they know your home alone? Also this was an hour ago! You text back; Y/N: um, who is this?

You wait only a minute before you get a text back,

 “Ellie :)”

Relief sets in, not a creepy guy or stalker, thank god. Your phone buzzes again.

Ellie: “Gosh made you coffee and walked you home, am I that forgettable?”

You text back quickly, “no sorry, hey! I just didn’t know your number. How did you get mine?”

Ellie: “Sage gave it to me, I hope that's okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah that's cool!” you text back.

A little confused why Sage would give out your number without asking but your thoughts are interrupted by another text from Ellie:

“You didn't answer my question silly ;)”

You reread Ellie's first text. You do usually stay in, even on friday nights.

“Pretty much lol” you respond with another text, “I don’t really like parties”

“I feel that, good for business, bad for vibes lol” ellie responds

You stare at the screen, taken aback by how all of a sudden you are talking to this girl you hardly know for the second time today. Suddenly the bath is way too hot and wet, your laptop playing a little too loud. You close your phone, pause your show, and start to drain the tub. Rinsing off and finishing up your shower routine, you are standing at the vanity when your phone lights up catching your eye. It’s Ellie again,

“So would you like some company? I'm nearby actually” A glance at the time tells you it's 9pm, late for you, your only other plans for the night was to curl up in bed and continue your show until you fall asleep. You take a second to think about things as you put some clothes on, a soft pair of pajama bottoms, a tank top and a slouchy oversized sweater. Something in you was intrigued with this girl. It was strange for you to feel like you wanted to hang out with someone let alone someone you just met late at night. 

You pace for a minute thinking, am I really going to do this? Typing out the text and holding your breath before hitting send then chucking your phone on the bed and running to the mirror.

“Okay, why don't you come over?”

You inspect your appearance. Natural beauty, your skin care routine was spot on and truthfully you loved your look the most at night after you cared for yourself. You felt a rush of adrenaline and took a few breaths to calm yourself before sliding on a pair of slippers and grabbing your phone to go downstairs. Before leaving, the joint on your night stand catches your eye and it only seemed right to bring it along, Ellie did roll it.

On the way down the stairs, there's a knock at your door, that was fast. You peek out the window to be safe, Ellie standing with her back to the window facing away from the door. Hand scratching the back of her head, it looks like she's changed since you saw her last. You open the door and catch a whiff of pine and amber as she turns to face you, the same sideways smirk on her face from before. She's wearing all black, dirty Converse, ripped jeans, and a black jacket over a green hoodie.

“Hey, whoa cute fit” Ellie laughs as she looks you up and down, “cozy?”

You move a little at her comment, noticing how underdressed you are. “You caught me at the end of my shower” 

She chuckles again, “well I wasn't trying to take you out, was wondering if you wanted to smoke this with me?” Ellie pulls a joint from behind her ear, and holds it up between her pointer and middle finger.

Your nerves are going crazy but something in the way she looks at you makes you feel at ease in her presence. 

“Yeah sure, I have one of yours already actually” you say as you hold up the joint, it's a little crushed as you realize your hands were clenching. 

Ellie laughs, “you keep that one, we can smoke this one” she gives you that smile again. “Are we gonna stand on the porch all night?”

You snap into reality a bit and stumble over your words and yourself, letting her into the house. “no! Sorry, ya we can smoke in the back, we have some chairs out there.”

“Sweet, I'll follow you cutie” 

You turn away from the comment before Ellie could see your cheeks go up in flames. 

You lead her through the house to the back door and out into the small yard. There's a fire pit in the corner with a few lawn chairs around it. There's a light breeze in the air but it's rather temperate for a spring evening. You sit down in a chair and Ellie flops down next to you. Pulling out a lighter and joint. You watch as she puts the joint between her lips, lightly holding it with one hand and lighting with the other. Your eyes are locked on her while she inhales and the cherry goes red illuminating her soft features. Only when she exhales a cloud of smoke and looks at you do you look away quickly. Darting your gaze away to the joint held out in front of you. 

“Here ya go y/n” Ellie's voice is low and gravely, cutting through the silence of the night. 

You swallow and take the joint, breathing out preparing yourself for the hit. You can feel Ellie's eyes on you as you inhale, hold for a second too long, and exhale out in coughs, covering your face and shoving the joint in Ellies direction. “Shit, hahah, I don't smoke that often.” you get out

“Oh! That's okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want it!” Ellie takes another drag, hesitating to pass it back your way.

“No, no it's okay, the first hit is always the roughest,” you say through your coughing fit. “I usually smoke with Sage.” 

Taking another drag and speaking as smoke billows out past her lips, “Okaaay you can tap out at any time light weight” She chuckles at the end of her sentence but reaches the joint back out to you. You take it, needing another hit to settle the growing nerves in your stomach, she will not stop looking at you.

You and Ellie pass the joint back and forth a few rounds in easy silence. Only a few loud conversations and music from down the block fill the air. Ellie breaks the silence after a moment.

“So I know you said you don’t like parties but there's this one tomorrow night at my friend Jessie’s house, he lives in 09. My roommate Dina and I are going, you might like it?” 

Jessie… You've heard that name before, he was one of Daniel’s, Phoebe's boyfriend's roommates. A group of boys that live in House 09, down the street from you. You've actually been to their house for a party once before. It was fun for an hour until you Irish good-byed to go home and lay in bed. Texting your roommates of course, because girls always need to stay safe. Considering your roommates would be inviting you to this party as well you decide to accept Ellies invitation too.

“Oh yeah, my roommate Phoebe is dating Daniel who lives in 09, i'll probably be there for a little bit.”

Ellies face lights up, and she moves in a way that looks like she's trying to hide her excitement. “You will! Cool, I'll see you there then! Ah this thing is out.” She stubs out the cherry in the joint and tosses it into the fire pit. “Well I should let you get back to your evening princess, I have a few more drop offs to do tonight anyway.” She stands from her seat with a stretch  and holds her hand out for you to grab as you stand. Her jacket got pushed up a bit and you notice a dark image on her forearm, a tattoo? It's hard to tell in the dark. You grab her hand, making a mental note of how strong and soft they are before standing fully and stepping back.

“I'll walk you out then, uh thanks for smoking me out” Your mind is hazy and calm, you barely realize that your nerves are settled, you're comfortable. Ellie follows you back into the house and to the front door, you both pause at the open door, Ellie's eyes on yours, yours on your hands.

“So I'll see you tomorrow night?” Ellie breaks the silence, making you look up,suddenly the nerves are back.  

“Yeah, i'll see you around Ellie” you do your best to not shiver, and give her a smile.

The green eyed girl averts her gaze as she sheepishly scratches the back of her head. “Alrighty, have a good rest of your night!” She turns to leave but turns back, 

“oh yeah, it's a decade's party, so you gotta dress up”

She gives you stupid snap and finger guns and turns away, popping down the steps and into the night. You let the cool air wash over you as you watch her walk down the street. Noticing the flick of a lighter in the night as she goes out of sight. You close the door and nearly collapse against it as your stomach begins to flutter again. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You take your phone out as you run up to your room, texting your house group chat immediately.

*H03 Hoes* Y/N: “Sage, why'd you give my number to a stranger?? Also… is there a party tomorrow night at H09?”

It was a little while before you got a response from your roommates, their movie must have ended, it was now 11:30pm. You shoot up from your bed responding to your roommates;

*H03 Hoes* Sage: “Ellies, not a stranger! And she asked for it ;)” Olivia: “The Decades party yeah! We were going to ask you tomorrow if you wanted to go!” Y/N: “Well yeah not anymore, she kinda came by the house and smoked me out.” Ivy: “Yo what?!!! y/n hung out with a girl??” Y/N: Hey, I'm allowed to do stuff! Lol Sage: lolol we’ll be home in a little bit! We can get ready for the party tmrw together :D”

You lock your phone and look around the room, you realize you had been pacing for that whole conversation. Adrenaline going crazy, your mind flashing images of auburn hair and green eyes. You probably had 30 minutes left of alone time in the house so you decide to end your night right, how you usually do. Stealing yourself under your blankets, touching and pleasuring yourself until your breath relaxes you into sleep. However tonight, green eyes stare back at you in your mind.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut

[fanwarriorfictions]

Fix You

Short little Azriel one-shot. Sort of xReader but readers name is never used. I don’t know it’s just cute. Azriel is bad at taking care of himself, reader is a healer called to take care of him.

It was an effort to keep his wings from dragging behind him, the weight of them seemingly growing heavier and heavier the closer he got to the door.

He really should’ve just flown to the house of wind, taken a bath and collapsed into bed, but the moment he’d landed in Velaris, his body seemed to scream enough! And so he set about stumbling to the river house, cursing the dirt and blood caking his boots and leathers. There was no way he’d be able to get to his room without leaving a trail of it behind, a trail leading some busybody to his door to hound him to the healers office.

He didn’t need to go, he just needed to sleep it off. That’s what he kept telling himself even as his shadows whispered somethings wrong somethings wrong! Turns out the busybodies already found him.

“I’m fine,” he curses lowly, a scarred hand reaching for the door, “mind your own business.”

Usually the door wasn’t such a struggle to open, that should’ve been concerning, but Az was to focused on baths and beds to really care. He’d made it to the stairs, shadows frantically skittering around him, whispering so loud it hurt his head.

“Would you shut up?” He snaps.

The stairs looked impossibly steep, the ground was cold and bit at his wings, Feyre really picked a nice color to paint the walls, why is Cassian so loud?

“Az!”

He felt warm, a comforting feeling that almost lulls him back to sleep if it wasn’t for the voices surrounding him.

“What the hell happened?” A voice like night, familiar and filled with concern.

An equally familiar voice, “I came around the corner and he just fell face first into the stairs.”

“Call for Madja.”

“She’s away visiting Dawn,” a lighter voice sighs, “I’ll send for a healer from her clinic.”

The voices grew fainter, Az couldn’t tell if they moved away or if he was falling back into to blissful sleep, he didn’t need a healer, he just needed to rest. He tried to tell them that, but he was already asleep before he could even open his lips.

Cool fingers drift over his cheek, leaving a soothing trail of ice wherever they meet his flushed skin. The feeling is heavenly, he chases the hand as it falls away, grumbling quietly at the loss.

A melodic laugh sounds above him, he could bottle that sound and listen to it every day.

“He’ll be fine, other than a few cuts and bruises, which were already healing on their own when I got here, albeit slowly,” the voice says, “he overworked himself, sheer exhaustion caught up to him and his body just couldn’t keep up. I have some tonics to help him sleep, and to help with nutrition and energy levels.”

The words vaguely mean something to him, he doesn’t care what as long as she keeps speaking.

A loud sigh, “thank the Mother.”

His face scrunches up, why is he so loud.

Apparently he’d said the words aloud, he thinks at least due to the cough of a laugh and a disgruntled voice shouting, “hey!”

“Azriel,” the beautiful voice says, “how are you feeling?”

He sighs, lips turning up at the corners, “I’m fine, love.”

“Oh please,” the loud voice says, followed by the sound of smack.

The cool touch is back on his face, palm laid gently on his forehead, he feels a surge of energy beneath the touch, gently nudging away the fatigue over his mind. It comes back to him slowly, the loud voice, Cassian, the cool concerned one, Rhys. The house, the stairs, falling. The beautiful voice and gentle hands of the healer Feyre sent for to help him.

Azriel forces his eyes to open, first seeing his shadows dancing around him, dancing around soft fingers that pulled back from his face. He couldn’t rein in his shadows if he tried, not as they traveled up that arm towards the face of a female so beautiful it almost knocked him out again.

“You gave everyone quite the scare,” she says, a soft smile on lips that he is quite sure are just as soft, “how long has it been since you had a proper meal?”

He could detect the soft scolding tone of her voice and he couldn’t help the grin as he said, “is that an invitation?”

He vaguely heard the scoffed laugh of one of his brothers, a whispered conversation between the two of them and a pair of footsteps leaving the room.

The healer laughs quietly, a wonderful sound, “I see you’re in good spirits. That’s good.”

She smiles at a curious tendril of shadow that nudges at her cheek, almost like a cat seeking attention.

“It helps that I woke to the sound of an angel.” He’s glad his brothers left, he’d never hear the end of that one.

“I’m sure you say that to Madja all the time,” she chuckles, standing up to grab a bag off the desk by the door, “like I told your family, I’ve brought some tonics for you to get your strength back up, but they only work if you take care of yourself, shadowsinger.”

Azriel finally takes stock of the world around him then, his bedroom at the river house. The room elegantly decorated by Feyre to match the shadowsingers tastes. He lays on top of the deep navy duvet of his large bed, big enough for three Illryians. Someone had cleaned his clothes clothes, his boots and jacket gone, the black shirt and his leather pants clean of any stains.

The healer perches on the edge of the bed, eyes curiously assessing him. Beautiful his shadows whisper, and he could only agree. Absolutely beautiful.

Her hands reach out placing the tonics down on his night stand, arranging them with the carefully scrawled labels and instructions facing him. Her hand writing is soft and elegant, he wants to examine every swooping letter.

His shadows dance, twirling around the soft strands of her hair, tugging at her wrists to pull her towards him. He can’t find it in him to scold the things for it.

“You,” she turns towards the small wisp next to her face, “take care of him for me, please. Because I can tell he won’t listen to my advice.”

“Will you be here next time to patch me up,” he asks, “because if that’s the case I can assure you I won’t.”

She laughs, “don’t worry, I’ll fix you up if you need me. Just don’t make it a habit.”

Azriel grins, “no promises.”

She gives him a small smile in return, taking a bottle labeled sleep off the table, “I’ll be back with some tea. You need more rest.”

The shadows around her writhe, clearly not happy to see her go. She shoos them back, chuckling at their antics. Azriel watches her go, half tempted to ask her to stay, he wasn’t that far out of it to realize he shouldn’t do that.

Her voice flutters down the hall, talking to his brothers, asking oh so politely for some hot water and tea. They fade away towards the kitchen, even Cassian’s booming voice is muffled by the distance.

Azriel pushes off the bed to sit up slowly, his muscles feel more relaxed than he’s ever felt in his life, the vague memory of the painful state he’d been in feeling like a distant dream. Her magic worked its wonders on him, he could still feel it lingering there beneath his skin, almost like one of his shadows, examining him from head to toe in search of anything to fix.

“You shouldn’t get up to soon, you need to rest.”

There she was, a cup of tea balanced in one hand the other fisted on her hip. Her lips seem to try and frown but it looks more like a pout.

“I’m fine, love. I feel amazing actually,” he assures, “thanks to you.”

She sets the tea on the desk to her left, “my magic has that affect, like a pain relief tonic. It will continue to work until I leave, you are still healing so you may feel sore tomorrow, I’ve left a few pain tonics if you need them, if it is to much send for me, or Madja, she should be back in a few days, I know she is your preferred healer.”

His head tilts as listens to her ramble, loving the sound of her voice. He could listen to her talk all day long.

“Should I call for you even if I’m not in pain? Or is that a requirement for me to see you again? I’m sure either of my brothers would be happy to give me a few bruises for you to fix up.”

Her eyes light in amusement, “that is not necessary in the slightest.”

“Then I can call on you tomorrow? No fixing, maybe just some lunch?”

His shadows whisper in his ears but he’s to busy looking at her to listen to them.

“I’d like that, Azriel.”

His name on her lips sounds like the most beautiful song he’s ever heard. She hands him the tea and he drinks down the sweet liquid without question.

“You should get some rest,” she smiles, hands gently nudging his shoulders so he lays back down.

His eyes feel heavy, his body warm and relaxed, “thank you, angel.”

She laughs, “of course, shadowsinger.”

He’s drifting off to sleep, her laugh bringing him towards gorgeous dreams. His last shred of consciousness has only just enough time to think one thing before slipping through his grasp.

He’d never asked for her name.

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #Cassian is loud

[ghouljams]

@ceilidho was in first Soap is getting dommed, he deserves it. Lots of impact play, because he also deserves that, the masochist.

That first slap across his face leaves his head spinning. Stings just enough to get his blood pumping. You hit him hard, hard enough to move him, hard enough that he stares at the wall and feels himself getting hard. His heart hammers in his chest as he turns back to you, tips his head forward to calm his breathing before he looks at you. "Thought you were mad, hen, barely felt that one," he teases, just to see the way you glare.

You drag him close by the collar of his shirt and slap him again, grabbing his jaw afterwards so he can't hide the way his eyes roll. Two more smacks against his reddening cheek and his eyes are starting to lid, his blinks slow as he looks at you. "Pathetic," You tell him, shaking his head with a firm hand on his jaw. He smiles for you, some of the spark coming back to his eyes, and you take the opportunity to tip his head back and spit into his mouth. He's quick to hold his tongue out, quick to hold himself for you. When you slap him a fifth time he doesn't flinch save for the buck of his hips.

"You want something pup?" You ask, sticky sweet in a way you both know is dangerous for him. He blinks, nods, you hum. "Than get on your knees and beg." The noise of his knees hitting the hard floor cracks through the room, a loud 'thunk' that you know must hurt. He's all the happier that it does.

"Touch my dick," He tells you, no begging, no pleading, it's almost a command. You snort, and he smiles. You know he's only doing it because he wants to make you feel better, and laughter is the best medicine. Still. You press the ball of your foot against the front of his pants, pushing it against his cock. Your usual boots are hard and unyielding, Soap's eyes roll back, his hips grinding up against the feeling. You step a little harder and he lets out a moan.

"This what you wanted?" You grind your boot down onto his cock, watch him tip his head forward, his hand reaching to grip your leg for stability. You lace your fingers through the short crop of his mohawk and tug his head back, you shake him a little when his eyes stay screwed shut. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," You command and his eyes fly open, unfocused in the best of ways. Your blood, which had felt so hot running through your veins is starting to cool to a simmer. It's a pleasant sort of calmness that is draping itself over you. "Is this what you wanted?" You ask again. Soap swallows.

"No," He relents, though his hips don't stop moving.

"Be a good boy," You tell him, "beg nicely for me."

Soap breathes, tries to collect his thoughts around the pain and pleasure. His cheek is warm, tingling with the blood that rushes to it, and his cock aches, dripping with the need to be touched and the pain of being confined. "Please," He relents, "please touch me."

"Good boy," You coo, taking your boot from his cock and instead shoving it under his hips. Your fingers pet through his hair, he keeps his eyes trained on you for the next order, the next slap. You raise your brows, waiting for something. "Well?" You prompt, "Hump my leg mutt, I know you want to."

Soap whines, pushing his hips against your boot, grinding his clothed cock against the leather. You scratch his buzzed hair, the feeling of it, the gentle affection, makes him tip his head forward, following the trail of your fingers. You pull back and smack his cheek, he whines and tips his head back to look at you again.

"Eyes on me pup," You remind him. Soap licks his lips, keeping his eyes trained on you as he humps your boot. It's hard watching you watch him, your gaze is so hot on him, and his poor dick hurts so bad. His eyes roll when he hits the angle just right, gets a sticky drip of pleasure down his spine, and you smack him.

"'M sorry," He mumbles, he fixes his gaze on the bridge of your nose, that's easier. You cup his cheek, soothing the sting out of it, then drag your thumb to push against his lips. He opens, sucking the digit into his mouth.

"Needy mutt," You murmur, "such a slut fucking yourself on my boot." Soap nods against your grip, his tongue running over your thumb, wishing he could lick other parts of you. He wants to make you feel good, wants you to make him feel good. Fuck it hurts so nicely the way his pants rub against his cock. It's not enough, but it's not supposed to be. This is for you, your outlet for the day's frustrations, and his honor to be a part of it. He'll fuck you when you're good and ready, and when he does he'll be too far gone to stop.

He'll fuck you until he's shaking, oversensitive and begging to come. You'll call him "polite", call him a dog, call him whatever you like. And you'll be right.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap mactavish smut #john mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #sub!soap #dom!reader

[malestransforming]

Chronivac Twins

The moment I saw this AI image, I knew I had to write something. Probably one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

Special thanks to @octuscle for the image inspiration. Here is a link to their original story.

- - - - - - - -

Empty beer cans filled the table in front of the two men. The room was silent, the TV showing the console home screen, and darkness was creeping in from the night. The night was winding down, and the two friends were enjoying peaceful moment before the night truly wrapped up.

Mason breathed a heavy sigh, comfortable in his current state. He was clearly drunk, but happily drunk. He fished around in his pockets, feeling for the recent purchase he had received that day: a brand new Chronivac tablet. He pulled it out of his pocket, powering it on for the first time, watching the screen suddenly brighten, flashing the Chronivac logo. 

“Check it out!” Mason suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with his boldness. “I got this new Chronivac in the mail.”

Beside him sat Chris, Mason’s best friend since grade school. Chris was drunker than Mason was, with his eyes closed and his body still, but he too was in happy state of intoxication. 

“Oh yeah? What is that?” Chris slurred from the other end of the coach. The back of Mason’s head was resting on the top of the sofa, leaned back in an almost unnatural position. A massive drunken grin was plastered on his face, highlighting the comfortable state he was currently in.

Mason held up the sleek tablet to an oblivious Chris. A loading screen flashed again as the system booted up. 

“Yeah, it’s a tool that lets me change a part of my body. Actually it will change a part of both of us. They had a deal on the twins package.”

“Cool…” Chris breathed.

“Yeah. I know you have been feeling down lately, so I thought it would be nice to spice things up for you. Plus, you know you’re my bro. We’ve been buds since we were five years old. I figured it was time we made it official.”

Mason began tapping at the screen, swiping at different sliders and dials. There were dozens of different settings with labels like “Hair”, “Muscle Levels”, “Race/Nationality”… Mason balked at the overwhelming choices and options, but forced himself to stay focussed; this was a change he had wanted for a while.

“So I was thinking of doing some kind of mixed race. Hmm. Japanese and Mexican? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. I bet that would look hot. With jacked muscles, like body builders. And since we’re gonna be twins, you’ll get it too. Sound good to you Chris?”

Chris only smiled and laughed to himself, the way drunk people often do. It was clear he was not fully present in the moment. Mason took Chris’ drunken laughter as a sign of agreement and continued with the settings page. He slid up the muscle slider to the max, added jock personalities and details such as personal trainer and fitness influencer. He double checked the ‘Race’ tab, making sure that Japanese and Mexican were both checked off. Pleased with his work, he continued on to the last section, “Target Selection” and “Transform”. He allowed the device a few moments to calibrate before confirming the two bodies in the room. He double checked that the “Twins” button was selected and hovered over the Transform button.

“All right bro. This is it. See you on the other side!”

And with that he tapped the button. The screen went blank for a moment, creating a quick sense of panic in Mason’s heart, but reappeared with a white, animated progress bar.

Mason looked down at his hands and arms. “I don’t feel any different,” he said. 

He checked the screen again. The progress bar had moved up by one pixel and showed a time remaining of 1440 minutes. 

“Oh shoot! I set the transformation duration to be 24 hours. Well that’s okay. When we wake up tomorrow, we’ll definitely see some changes! Next time you see me Chris I’ll be be a huge muscled-out bro. And a completely different race. And so will you! We’ll be twins. Pedro and Miguel. We’re gonna be so fucking hot.”

A gentle and rhythmic breathing came from the other end of the couch. Mason turned his head and grinned at Chris who had passed out on the couch. 

“See you in the morning, Miguel,” he whispered. 

-

Bright sunlight was pouring into the apartment. The morning was late, but the day was still young. Chris stirred on the sofa; he was now lying horizontally on the couch, shirtless and in his underwear. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, rubbing his eyelids with a balled up fist, and stretching against the soft cushions of the sofa. His broad feet pushed against the far armrest, and his arms stretched off behind him. He sat up, and noticed his first change.

Looking down at his chest, Chris saw his pectoral muscles had ballooned out in front of him to a God-like proportion. He cupped his chest, making note of how his nipple had slipped down below his eye line, and squeezed the new muscle. 

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “Why do I have tits?” 

Mason launched himself off the sofa and dove into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent light clicked on, revealing the extent of Mason’s initial changes. Below his chest were the unmistakeable beginnings of 6-pack abs. Mason ran his fingers over top of his stomach, remembering the slight beer gut that had been there the night before. 

He leaned in closer to the mirror and begin poking and prodding his face. His nose seemed wider and his eyes were narrower. His lips were plumping as well, into two thick pillows. He ran his meatier fingers through his darkening hair; it seemed thicker, curlier and shorter than it had before. He pulled a strand and watched it bounce back into place on his scalp. 

The sound of a door slamming brought Chris out of his trance. He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the main room.

“Bro!” Mason called from the entry-way. “Are you up?”

“Yeah! What the fuck is happening to me?” Chris replied in anguish.

Mason came around the corner and Chris immediately became aware that the changes he was going through were also happening to Mason. Mason appeared to be several inches shorter, and Chris noticed that he was roughly eye-level to himself now. His chest and abs were similarly large and muscled as Chris’ were, except Mason’s shoulders and arms were much wider. Veins pulsed across Mason’ skin and over his bulging biceps. His nose and eye shape seemed strangely familiar, as did the plumpness of his lips. Mason noticed that Chris’ hair was shorter on top with a shaved, faded appearance on the side.

“Mason, what the fuck is happening? I pass out drunk and wake up all top heavy like this! And then you waltz in looking like that! What the fuck?”

“Chill out bro,” Pedro said. “And my name isn’t Mason anymore. It’s Pedro. And your name isn’t Chris, it’s Miguel. You’re turning out to be such a hot twin.”

Chris/Miguel was unable to get anymore words out as sharp pains coursed through his arms and legs. He hunched over, wrapping his growing limbs around his torso. In front of his eyes he saw the muscles in his arms and legs double, triple and quadruple in size, into massive slabs of muscle. His trap muscles ached and burned as the fibres inside re-stitched themselves, growing to match the mass of his arms and chest. Across the room Pedro grinned in anticipation, as his adonis belt thinned out, becoming lean and chiselled, into his tight pelvis and butt. 

“Miguel, we’re going to be so hot!” Pedro’s voice was deeper and more coastal sounding. His jock-instincts were bubbling in his brain, overwriting whatever personality he had before.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Miguel. I mean Chris.” Chris stammered. “How did you even do this?”

“Bro, it was the Chronivac. I told you last night. Just embrace it. I paid good money for this twins package.”

“I need to call them. There has to be a way to reverse this.” 

With a wide stride, Chris/Miguel walked over to where his phone was, but doubled over as a burning pain seared through his stomach. He squeezed with his hands, feeling the muscles underneath swell and grow under his touch. Before his eyes his abs went from flat and empty to being completely ripped. His waist got tighter as his adonis belt and hip muscles also tensed and flexed, just like Pedro’s had.

“Bro, I have a six pack!” Chris exclaimed, his voice cracking as it matched the timbre of Pedro’s.  

“They match mine, bro!” Pedro said.

Chris shook his head. If he could just call the company and explain what the problem was, then he figured he could stop the changes. He found his phone and brought it to his face, waiting for Face ID to unlock. The phone vibrated in his dark and meaty hand, refusing to unlock. In the black mirror of his phone, he saw a completely different face than the one he was used to. His nose was wider, and his jaw was leaner. His eyes had narrowed into Asian-like features and his hair was shorter and darker than before. His face was looking identical to Pedro’s, right down to the plump lips.

In a panic, Chris typed in his passcode and Googled the number for Chronivac. The phone began ringing.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other end.

“Hello, is this support? My name is Miguel, I mean Chris. My name is Chris. I don’t own your product, but my brother Pedro — I mean my best friend Mason does. He used the Chronivac on me last night and I woke up with big muscles and my face is looking Japanese and Mexican? And the same thing is happening to him! He says we’re becoming twins. This has to be against your Terms of Service! I didn’t agree to this.”

A dark skin spot formed on the back of Chris’ hand, spreading across his skin and up his bulging arms. His skin was darkening, to match his new ethnicity. 

“It sounds to me like it might be too late to intervene. Our records show Pedro and Miguel Watanabe.”

“That’s right,” Miguel interjected. He was Miguel, not Chris.

“Yeah,” the agent continued. “So your brother got the Twins Package, and since you are legally twins now, there’s nothing that can be done to change back the transformation. But it’s going to be great being a pair of super hot Latino-Asian influencers, right?”

“Yeah,” Miguel replied absent-mindedly, and in a voice that was deepening. “Thanks anyway. Peace.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone aside. Pedro wandered over and wrapped his hand around his twin brother’s shoulder. 

“It’s at ninety-nine percent,” Pedro said, indicating the transformation process on the Chronivac. 

Miguel felt another spasm in his thighs and legs and saw his skin was now completely browned and tanned now. His legs were thick and bulging, and so was the rest of his body. A wave of emotions came feelings rolled over his brain, and Miguel stood silently in place as his brain and personality adjusted to match his new physique. Pedro stood still for a moment too, as the twenty-two year old twins realized they could speak English, apanese and Spanish and had a long history of lifting weights and posting work-out videos on TikTok. The transformation progress bar clicked up one last pixel to one-hundred percent, snapping the twins out of their daze. 

“Bro,” Pedro said. “You wanna get a workout in?”

“You know it!” Miguel said, high-fiving his twin brother with a grin. 

#male tf #male transformation #jock transformation #reality change #male tf story #male body transformation #jockification #ai image #chronivac #race change #race tf #race transformation #latino transformation #asian transformation

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

#my writing #fuck it Friday #i swear I’m going to finish trapped buck and Chris and work on proposal fic before i work on this more #but it would be a bunch of glimpses of Buck’s various hospital trips from Eddie’s nurse perspective #and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and #so he does a stint in the maternity ward and buck shows up there #and Eddie is like you’re having a kid? #and bucks like no my sister is what are you doing here #and when buck gets the story he’s like fuck. shit. im sorry i wasnt there #and eddies like picturing seeing buck in that moment of violence and says im glad you weren’t #also Eddie could still be the one who restarts his heart after the lightning strike #this bit is maybe the last scene actually sorry for posting the end first #have a good breakfast boys #buddie #evan Buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

[yeeterthek33per]

Mic'd Up (Photo Day Edition) (Auswnt x Reader)

A/n requoosted

*The camera pans to you jogging around the producers, testing out the compact harness they had under your training jersey.

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

"Aw man, do I have to wear this? Do the others know? Oh, they don't. That's freaking amazing, I can be like, stealth ninja, catching all the secrets and the juicy deets."

"I feel like a super secret spy."

You jump up and down, clapping your knees in a mini back flip to get started. The staff chuckle as you do some dodging motions, making a dododo mission impossible sound.

"Okay, cool, we're done here? Alright, the girls should be out of the change rooms soon. Who's gonna be my first target. I feel like once they find out they're gonna start avoiding me. So, like, I have to be super stealthy."

Tony, walking onto the pitch behind the team, draws your attention as you pretend to be doing some precursory runs, while the rest of the camera crew pretends to be the photographers for photo day.

"Alright, you lot, let's start with our team photos, since it's photo day. Everyone on the stands, you know the drill."

"Tony! What do we do if we haven't brought our boots?"

You laugh as he rolls his eyes and swats at you lightly. You jog away from your coach and jump up on the stands, intentionally standing one spot to the left to annoy Charlie, who swats at you, shooing you back into place.

"Little turd, move it."

"She's so mean to me."

You wink at the videographers that are setting up.

"Hey guys, Tony says the beep test's optional today."

The girls around you chuckle, and you hear Tony behind you.

"Keep starting rumours, L/n, and you'll be doing it twice."

"No, please."

You turn and give him puppy dog eyes that just make raise a brow at you.

"Ugh, fiiine, I'll behave."

Your arm comes around to rest on Charlie and Alanna shoulders, though you do struggle a bit because Alanna is much taller than you.

"Jeez, Lans, can you like, not be a tree for a second?"

Her elbow digs into your side playfully.

"Can you like, not be a little turd for a second?"

A pout makes it's way onto your face.

*Cut to taking the photo, and everyone's arranged themselves correctly.

"Yo guys, I feel like I'm being bullied here."

-----------

There's the formal picture and the muck around one. Which you end up on Mini's shoulders for.

"Everybody say Mini!"

You throw your arms up in the air as the camera flashes, and Katrina laughs below you.

Tony claps his hands, and the team all move to start the basic dynamic warmups.

-----------

*The camera pans to some cones set out as each group takes their turns dodge and weaving.

"Oh my god, fast feet. Fast feet. Fast feet. Let's f****** go."

The girls in line chuckle behind you and you whoop as Vine follows through behind you.

"Ayyyy, nice one, Viney."

-----------

*Cut to another drill setup.

Your groan is audibly loud as you hear the traumatic sound of the beep test instructional introduction.

"Everybody start, three, two, one, go!"

"Ah f***."

You're panting by the fourteenth round.

"Oi, Tony, can we call it quits now?"

"Nope, keep going."

You pout for a second before jumping when the next beep goes for you to start.

You do halfway decently, making it to level 48 before it catches you off guard.

"You're out, Y/n!"

You grunt and collapse off to the side with the others with a huff, leaving just five of the others still in.

-----------

*Cut to passing drills.

"Ooh, ooh, Foordy, you're my buddy today."

The striker playfully groans, giving you a soft shove. Her arm wraps around your head to give you a noogie.

"Oi, get off!"

"Alrighty, let's go, you lot! That includes you, too, Y/n."

"I feel like I'm being targeted now."

*Cut to short tapping passes.

"Ayo, let's go. I've been practising my mini taps, hit me."

Short sequence of you and Caitlin playing taps with the ball, eventually getting faster to the point of it being a competition to keep it between you.

"Oh f***."

The ball nearly jumps past you for a second before you boot it back.

"Ah s***."

Just barely scrambling to keep it in, you send it back to the striker, but it pops past her to the right.

"YES! Suck on that fast feet!"

The forward clutches at her chest, dramatically falling over and playing dead.

"Nooooooo!"

"HA HA! Victory is miiiine!"

You do a little dance around Caitlin, eventually putting your foot up on the centre of her back in a power pose, grinning at the photographers who take several photos of the moment.

She eventually turns over, shoving your foot off her as you laugh. You pull her up.

-----------

*Another drill set up, shooting this time.

"Woot, yep, here!" "Caity! Here!"

You sprint around the cones as she sends a ball to your head, and you jump to make the header, the ball just barely grazing the post and into the net, falling onto your back with a dramatic scream.

"Oh my f****** god! That was amazing! Ha!"

You shoot up.

"Tony, did you see me? I got an eight footer!"

The camera switches to him, nodding with an amused applause. Off camera, Katrina yells out.

"Honestly, I'm impressed. She only makes up five feet of that!"

The rest of the team and staff crack up at that.

Cut to you, standing still, arms now by your side as your mouth drops open in a confounded expression.

"Did you hear that? Mocking me in my time of triumph. I'm still taller than you, Mini!"

You huff and jog back into line, giving the woman a swat as you pass her.

"Bloody brat, honestly."

You mutter into the mic. You turn to your captain, who's out of frame.

"Sammy! Mini's bullying me!"

"Tell someone who cares, nerd!"

It's faint but still audible, and as the camera pans to her, she takes off with a cheeky grin to make her shot. Which she does, rising to about the same height to make the header.

"Ohhhh! Gah damn! Check it, L/n!"

You just huff, taking a seat as Sam does a backflip.

"Brooo, I just dunked on by the Rabbitohs supporter."

Sam stops, a pout on her face.

"Why you gotta make it personal, bro?"

You poke your tongue out at her.

"Cause the bunnies suck and we all know it. Go the Broncos!"

"Ayyyy, there's my girl!"

You high five Mackenzie as you jog back to the line.

-----------

*Cut to the crew setting up for some scrimmages.

"You think they'll let me pick the teams this time?"

It's said into the mic, but Tony walking up beside you with a resounding, "Not happening." Startles you.

You get picked for Steph's team, opting for war against your skipper now that she's tripped you at least three times since the start of the session.

"I'm gonna get you, Kerr."

"You're not gonna get me."

"I will, fight me on it."

"Chew on my studs, pipsqueak."

"Alright, that's enough, you two. Save it for the scrimmage. Let's set up, you lot."

Steph has to pick you up and walk you away from Sam, a laser point glare from you over her shoulder at the skipper.

"Can you put me down now?"

"You gonna promise not to leave stud marks in Sam's shins?"

"I'll think about it."

"Oh, for the love of god, behave yourself."

It's a stern tone, and the others half to hold back laughs at your dejected expression.

"But she's so mean..."

A stern look from the older girl quietens you, and the camera zooms in on your expression. You give a small wink in its direction.

"What's that, Sammy?! Your mum loves me more than you?! Aw, how sweet is that? I always knew I was the favourite kid. It's okay. Tell Roxy I love her too!"

"Oi!"

You end up getting chased across the pitch to which you move to hide behind Alanna, poking your tongue out at Sam as she growls.

"Samantha Kerr! Back to your side of the pitch!"

It's Steph.

"But she started it!"

"Sam, I swear to god."

"Fiiiine."

You poke your tongue one last time and jog over to the defender, an innocent smile on your face.

"She's a bloody child, ay."

The glare you get from her makes you shrink a little, and Mackenzie just wacks you on the back of the head.

"Owww, Macca!"

You quieten up after that, though, and Steph starts putting everyone into positions and game plans.

-----------

*cut to about halfway through the game, Steph had initially positioned you away from the Skipper to avoid either of you fueling your apparent and sudden sibling rivalry but she ends up having to move you back anyway since you play best in the mirror position to your captain anyway.

"Steph! Hit me! Hitme! Here!"

Just like you'd been practising just minutes earlier, the ball gets sent in directly to your head and slips past Lydia when she goes down for it.

"OHHH, suck on that NeRD!"

You hop around Sam giggling when she tries to swat at you, before you all return to positions.

It's only when a camera cut to minutes later finds you and Sam battling it out in the centre.

The moment she goes for the ball, you slip past her, tapping the ball between her legs and crossing it to Alanna, who volleys it in.

The entire field just breaks into "Ohhhhh"s and whistles.

Sam does a dramatic fall to her knees and flops to the ground as you jump onto Alanna's back with a whoop.

"OH, she's spicy today, ladies and gents!"

Alanna shakes her head, dropping you from her grasp and you both return to your positions.

A couple more minutes go by.

"Oh lordy lord, she's got skill! Mini, watch right! Mini watchright! Ayy atta girl!"

And.

"Clare! I'm here! Toss me! Yepyepyep!"

"Lans! Im going! I'm runnin'!"

"Let's freaking goooo!"

-----------

*The cuts to right before the whistle blows, and Tony calls the end of training.

"Alright, well done, excellent work all of you. Rest up, recovery work, warm down. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

You jump in the centre of the huddle quickly.

"Before anyone leaves, I have an announcement... you're all on Mic'd Up with the Tillies! Photo Day edition!"

Some of the girls groan around you, Sam in particular. Some of them start laughing as you do the stealth stance.

"I was a fricken ninja, guys, I'll tell ya!"

"Yeah, Tony definitely already knew you were Mic'd up."

"Shush, you."

Tony just grins as the camera pans to him, and he winks at it.

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

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #auswnt x reader #auswnt imagine #auswnt imagines #matildas x reader #matildas imagine #matildas imagines #this was a little cracked ngl

[pupcuck]

RIGOR MORTIS !

ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. las plagas!reader, he kills you, technically snuff ig but wasn’t intended oops, gore, canon-typical violence, reader is infected and out of it so she can’t really consent, dub-con, non-con, p in v, choking/asphyxiation, strangulation

note. god im plagued by writers block and it’s killing me it’s like walking on shattered glass rn. umm please ignore any mistakes, not very fond on this but haven’t posted in a bit :3 um it’s quite short. rbs are always appreciated :3 instead of asking for a part 2 please just tell me something nice.. feedback is really appreciated <3 comms are open! info in my pinned :3

Leon seeks refuge in what looks to have once been a humble abode. Now only a shack wearing a shroud of all things dead and rotten remains. Foetid water has soaked him to the bone, it seeps into the thick leather of his combat boots, leaves his socks soggy. He really hates that. Leon can handle cerebrospinal fluid leaving a sticky film on the toe of his boots, the blood caked beneath his fingernails is something he considers normal, but wet socks are a total inconvenience, it’s a shortcut to trench foot.

The hollow skulls of small critters occupy the corners, the cobwebs have cobwebs, the air is stagnant and stinking. Not of rot, but of sickness. A gaping wound crawling with infection, bacteria settling in the crevices of his mind, squirming like fat, juicy maggots—

Crack!

It’s a man, he was a man, now he’s a boneless lump of flesh, his spinal cord snapped under the weight of Leon’s boot. His yellowed teeth glisten under the golden warmth of a single lantern. Leon’s defence is choreographed at this point, a swift kick to intercept an impending strike, then his boot makes mincemeat of their brains.

When he takes a step back to review his current affair, it’s not so bad, certainly not Raccoon City. Leon would take a million murderous Spanish grandparents over a single zombie. Zombies are plain nasty, not a single limb intact, oozing pustules that peel back to reveal purpling flesh infested by larvae. They’re fuckin’ ugly. Slow and bloated and ugly. A sight no human being should see.

On the wall, there’s a shattered, grimy mirror. Leon sees the ghost of a boy staring back at him. Unwashed hair hanging limp, cheekbones carved out, his skin alabaster like the blocky lettering stitched into his uniform. R.P.D. it reads, muddied by blood and guts and chunks of vomit. All the good shit. He hasn’t grown into his body yet, the steel of his gun is cool on his temple and he’s young and these are all important things to know. In his arms is something small and lightweight, a bloodied little girl, leading him to a pyrrhic victory.

The floorboards groan under the weight of a pair of feet that don’t belong to him, the threat isn’t imminent. You don’t charge at him, no, it’s shambling he can only describe as zombie-like, dragging your bare feet like it hurts to lift them off the ground. Like you’re waterlogged and ready to pop.

You were pretty, he’s sure, a real looker. You’re pretty now, just not in your entirety. Strings of reddish muscle keep the fatty flesh of your right tit hanging on for dear life. Like an Amazonian woman. There’s no rot, no sign of decay, simply an act of self-mutilation.

Now, some might call him a pervert, but Leon’s a self-proclaimed iconoclast. And you, swaying from side to side in your torn linen nightdress, the skeletal pendant of Los Iluminados around your neck like a disfigured cross, draped in a veil of white that’s close enough to holy - it’s worth ruining. Santa Maria di Plagas or whatever.

He realises a few shattered bones have you walking funny, circles you easily and heads into the room you exited. The bed sheets are rumpled in unrest, he sits, there’s a hairline fracture between the two of you. The lantern light bares all, the white of your dress becomes gossamer-thin, he makes out your shape beneath the blood-soaked cloth that moulds to the shape of your torso, the smooth dip of your waist, a soft sinkage where the fabric clings to your belly button.

Leon has seen far worse. Can you blame a guy for getting hard at the sight of a real girl? In his line of work, he’s neck deep in pounds of flesh that spew pus and gore from each virus-clogged abscess. The layer of dirt on your skin does not deter him, that tit hanging by a tissuey thread, swinging back and forth like your necklace is child’s play to him. ‘Cause Leon’s a real man. The princely type.

(He’s anything but. One girl’s knight in shining armour is a monster under the bed for another. It’s not like you can complain, you’re quite the monster yourself.)

Hang in there Ashley. He’ll be there soon, but he’s got to do this. This is completely and utterly necessary. Hunnigan doesn’t need to know why he’ll be unreachable for a good thirty minutes or so. Less probably. ‘Cause your body is hot, clammy with fever, and that means your pussy is even hotter.

Something… Something… Plagas… Something… Lord Saddler…

Your mumbling is constant. Leon will have to do something about that. You gnash your teeth at him when you approach, held back only by the sluggishness that comes with, like, brainwashing cultish parasites.

“Sorry, sweetheart, no entiendo.” Leon loops a worn piece of rope around your neck. Ain’t that handy? Found it hung on your assumed-to-be father’s tool belt. Used for leading curly little lambs to the sacrificial altar. He strokes the underside of your chin, and you bare your teeth like a wild dog, albeit slowly. A late reaction. No fair, it’s like someone’s knocked you around already, who got here before him?

Getting his dick out at a time like this in a place like this, it’s not smart. Sneaky bugs could use his urethra as a water slide. A menacing minibeast might latch onto his balls pincher-first. However, needs are needs, and nothing gets in the way of Leon’s dick, not even a kidnapped First Daughter could stop the force of nature that is his boner.

With ease, he pushes you onto the ground. Not the bed. If you behave like an animal then he’ll have to fuck you like one. Plus, Leon’s not quite sure he trusts those sheets, at least the rusty nails on the floorboards are visible to the naked eye. Tetanus won’t be a nasty surprise, just a momentary lapse in judgement.

Your body contorts when he pulls the rope, back taking on a feline shape, spine bending inwards and your hips up. Puppetry is easier than it looks. The hem of your dress lifts to reveal your leaking chasm of a pussy. Better than nothing. Not like he’s eating it either way.

One hand on the rope, the other on his belt buckle, he lowers his jeans enough to pop his dick out. “Stay still, honey.” He instructs, but it’s like talking to a brick wall, or to a person who doesn’t understand a lick of English.

Leon chokes you with the rope. “I’ll only be a minute, sweetheart,” he coos, a tender kiss that he regrets merely seconds later placed on your shoulder.

He grips the base of his cock, the fat tip is red and leaky, precum bubbling like your foaming mouth. Leon’s too hard. His dick is totally upright, the soft curve pointing towards the ceiling, a thumb comes to press down on the tip, using it to guide himself into your pussy.

“Oh, there you go, honey, yeah, there you go.” His hold on the rope loosens, still firm enough to keep you in place, but now at least there’s oxygen flowing to your parasite-addled brain. “You feel that?”

Leon’s dick stretches you to the point of no return. He’s broken you in. Better off him than any of those grotesque old men. You’re a virgin surely, so it’s very considerate of him to fuck you before you die. No one should die a virgin, that’s cruel, it’s inhumane.

You thrash wildly, grunting each time his hips smack into the fat of your ass, he can’t tell if you’re enjoying it— You better be fuckin’ enjoying it. Know how risky this shit is? Fuck, what if you had a mutated cunt or something. Jagged teeth waiting to clamp down on a big fat dick and tear it straight off. He really needs to start thinking with his brain and not his cock. The thing just doesn’t shut up.

When he cums, the rope is tight around the column of your neck— It would be your hair, but he fears it might fall straight from your scalp in nasty, matted clamps. Your body rears like a wild Mustang, he gathers the rope and it wraps around his fingers until your back is flush to his chest and you grasp for something, anything— Eyes rolled so far back he can see the milky whites, and then he gives one last tug to make sure you’re stuck in that state. Mid-orgasm. Eyes in the back of your skull, back arched, pussy dripping with his load. Cute. He wishes rigor mortis set in right now so that you don’t fall slack into a heap of red and white when he lets go.

Leon leaves by barrelling out of a window like a true gentleman, the microscopic shards splinter your skin. He takes that pendant with him, tucks it in his back pocket, could be useful at some point in time.

It’s only when the blood in his veins runs black and viscous does Leon notice something is severely wrong. His blood flow slows to a halt, clots forming in every important artery. Mucousy black sludge leaks from his nose. An intense pain cuts through his senses with deadly precision, a surge of discomfort that has him kneeling over, hands on his knees in a clumsy attempt to steady himself.

His hands clasp around Ada’s neck— The rope. He pulls it tighter and tighter to get closer and closer. Her voice is distorted by the fog that clouds his brain, it creates a hazy barrier, mutes the world around him. A knife lodges in the meaty flesh of his thigh, he topples backwards when her knee makes contact with his groin.

“That bitch gave me crabs.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He brushes her off. “I said, uh, Lord Saddler almighty.” Leon’s heard that enough times to repeat it back to her rather fluently. Nice save.

“Right,” Ada says, unconvinced.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[mamasturn]

healing kisses, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleve x eden marie cleven

content: Eden hurts herself and Gale insists on assisting her.

an: from a request that was sent to @saturnville <3

tags: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

She was never the man to complain when he was injured. Though it occured rarely, she still kept her lips sealed tight when it happened. Gale came home to Eden Marie after a month-long mission, face sunken in, skin pale, and scars along his face.

She was in the midst of cooking dinner for him. When he snuck behind her and heard her wince at his touch, his eyebrows raised and concern washer over his face.

“What happened, sweetheart?” His calloused hands caressed her wrists, noticing the swelling there, along with the scar along her wrist. “Eden…” He leaned into her wrist, placing a soft kiss there.

“I’m okay, hang.” She broke away to press his lips against her cheek. “I’m okay. Just had a little fall trying to change the lightbulb. Dinner’s ready; going to show really quickly.” Her eyes were tired as she scanned the living space. Their daughter’s toys were scattered on the floor near the couch and her blanket was tossed over the arm of the sofa. The kitchen needed to be cleaned. Dinner needed to be served. She was exhausted and prone to clumsiness as a result.

Gale gave her a nod. She smiled weakly as she pressed a kiss against his cheek and trudged up the stairs. Gale sighed heavily and retreated back to the kitchen.

-

Gale took the time to clean up. The living room was clean and the kitchen was orderly. He was just as tired as she was, but he could see the exhaustion on her face and refused to leave it on her plate to clean.

Gale pursed his lips as he took a glance at the clock on the wall. She’s been in the bathroom for twenty minutes. Slowly, in concern, he trudged up the steps.

He sighed as she turned the corner and approached the bathroom door. He knocked gently, “Sweetheart?”

“Come in, baby,” his wife responded. The shower water almost drowned out his husky voice. Gale turned the doorknob and entered slowly. He was hit with a cloud of steam and a shower of heat. From behind the curtain, she spoke again, “You join’ me?”

Gale made quick work of his outfit; his air force uniform and boots. He took the time to fold every article nicely and placed them on the counter. His feet padded against the cool floor as he made her way to the shower, pulling back the curtain.

“Hi,” Eden greeted with a bright smile. In his exhaustion, Gale smiled back. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he repeated, pulling her body close to his. Eden wrapped her arms around his damp shoulders and rested her head against his chest. Gale’s hands squeezed her hips tightly. “Love you…”

-

“Stay still, sweetheart.” Eden was met with a series of grumbles and comments of dismay as she stood between his legs, being cared for by her husband. “Gale, I said I’m fine.”

Gale smacked his lips and continued to dab an antibiotic on the gash he discovered on her forearm. It wasn’t fresh; he could tell by the scarring that began to develop. It was a deeper shade of red but was still sensitive to touch. Gale ignored his wife’s antics and swiped a gauze and bandage out of the at-home first-aid kit and patched up the wound.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be wincing. Wrist.” Eden’s eyes were daring as they met hers. She hated being in a state of need, but would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy being babied by him. So, she stuck out her wrist and let him wrap it as he learned years ago.

“Alright, busy bee. Finished,” Gale snickered. Eden smiled and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you so much. I love you.”

Gale smiled against her lips. “I love you more.”

#black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #black!reader #gale cleven x reader #major gale cleven x eden marie cleven #major gale cleven x black!reader #gale cleven x black!reader #gale cleven #mota #masters of the air

[stubz]

late shift

Shuttle for Mars is departing now. Please keep hands, feet, tails, and other appendages clear of the yellow line.

‘Nice, finally get off work on time for once! Man is it empty, way less busy than the 5:45 one…

Are they sleeping? Please tell me they’re sleeping…’

“Snnrk…”

‘Oh good they are, oooh lots of empty seats next to them! Nice.’

The young human sits across the large figure and looks around.

‘Wonder why everyone else is sitting so far away from this guy? He’s not that much scarier than a Alteauh…OH! He’s an Orc! An actual Orc, oh this is so cool! Wait. Calm down, control yourself. Orc’s are people too, not some exotic animal in a zoo….he’s sooo cool looking tho!’

The human smiles and takes out their headphones and listens to some music and take in the view they see through the shuttle’s windows. From time to time they peek at the orc, can’t helping themselves from people-watching him.

Like what most humans imagined, he was huge. Easily more than 7 feet tall, with large calloused hands bigger than their head. He had large tusks but unlike the stereotypes he was well trimmed with well relatively kept hair. It would have neater had there not been dust in it. The orc wore dirty cloths and work boots. Beside them what looked like a tool box and bag.

‘Must be a construction worker or works in a trade’ they mused

‘Poor guy, he’s gotta be exhausted to sleep here. At least he gets to go home now.’

The shuttle shakes and with it so does the sleeping giant. Rocking side to side.

'That's not good.' They nervously slide off their headphones.

The turbulence increases until the sleeping orc leans too far and starts fall face first off his seat.

“OH SHIT!” Diving to their knees they manage to catch his head and shoulders.

“Mm?”

“You okay?” Damn he's heavy!

“Mmm…sorry.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he slowly got back into his seat, the turbulence now gone.

“No worries, I just didn’t want you to hit your head.”

“Heh, wouldn't be the first time I’ve done it.”

after rubbing his eyes a bit more and a crack of the neck he looks at them, brain finally working to some degree.

“…wait. You caught me?”

“Uh-huh”

“But you’re so small! Are you hurt?”

“You're not the first sleeping giant I’ve caught. I’m alright.”

“I am so sorry for that. I just finished working a 12 hour shift fixing the 1st and 3rd engine rooms and couldn’t help myself from dozing off.”

They whistle. “12 hours? No wonder you’re tired! If I were you I’d be in a coma.”

“Ah but surely you have a difficult job yourself. How else would you be able to catch me?”

“No, nothing like yours! I just work at a youngling centre.”

“The one on the ship?”

“That’s the one.”

“...YOUR ONE OF THE BRAVE WARRIORS WHO RISKED THEIR LIVES TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN??!”

“…you’ve heard of us?”

“Every orc and warrior worth their blade knows of your valiant deeds!! Tell me, what is your name??”

“Kim, uh and you are?”

“Fenrir. It is truly an honor to meet someone of your bravery and intelligence."

"Likewise! I've heard that the orc species are a true warrior race."

For the rest of the trip the two talked. Kim sharing how her and Max built such a safe room in the centre, which lead to the two realizing how similar each other's planets are.

"You have wind whirlpools as well? I thought they only existed on Bantor!"

"Well we call them hurricanes and tornadoes but yeah. Do you guys have hail?"

"Not where I grew up but nearby farther up they get a week or two of light hail showers during the fall. What about animals? Do you have reptiles bigger than an adult with large teeth and live in rivers? We call them darthrang."

"Oh we call them crocodiles!"

"Amazing! To think that your species live in a world much like mine!"

When the shuttle finally reached it's destination the two went their separate ways. A few days later they meet again, this time on the later shuttle. They sit and talk and create a routine of sorts where they became each others travelling companion for the trip to Mars.

One day however, Fenrir stopped coming. The human was saddened as she enjoyed his company but was soon surprised when seeing him at the centre.

"Kim! I've been transferred to stay on the ship so I won't be taking the shuttle to Mars anymore."

"Oh...well, as you know I only go home at the end of the week so maybe we can hang out now. Like eat lunch together or have a drink after work...or something like that!"

"Actually we'll be seeing each other everyday now. But if you don't get sick of me then yes, lets each lunch together."

"Great! But why will I be seeing you everyday?"

"Because after telling my family about you and the centre they've enrolled my nieces and nephews and younger siblings here...and I offered to drop them off and pick them up."

It was then that Kim noticed the dozen of orc children hiding behind Fenrir. The tallest and what looked the eldest of them stepped forward.

"Hello, I am Athea, uncle Fenrir said your one of the ones who saved the centre."

"Yes, my name is Kim. It's great to meet you AtheaaAA!" The orc girl pulled the human into a tight hug, lifting the adult woman off of her feet.

"Thank you for saving Nova." she mumbled into her chest.

'Ah, the Captain's daughter' Kim thought. "I was just doing what any teacher would do."

After a moment the human was put down and lead the children into the centre. The day went well. Fenrir's young family members were quickly won over by the humans, first with the saving of the centre, then with how they understood how wonderful their planet was rather than terrifying or deadly.

They were also greatly intrigued by how such a small species could survive in a planet that was thought to only be habitable to orcs.

"How can you carry us?" asked Thor, one of Fenrir's youngest brothers. "We're much bigger than a human child."

"Yeah but your not bigger than my cousins who are teenagers. Also just last month I had like 10 kids climbing on me. Two were tighalaxes."

"Your joking!"

...

"It that tumpon?!"

"Hm? We call it maafe, but it's also known as peanut stew, do you want some? It doesn't have any meat in it though."

"Guys Max has tumpon!! Can you tell Fenrir where we can buy the ingredients?"

"Of course. Finally I'll finish what gran gave me without having to gain 10 pounds."

And thus the first day ended on a high note! Now if only Kim could figure out why the children looked at her and nodded while talking to Fenrir...

So this based off of a post by @llamagoddessofficial about humans meeting actual space orcs. Sadly I can't find the actual post. but yeah, here u go, space orc and human meet cute

#the adventures of kim and max running a space child care centre #space orcs #humans are space orcs #humans in space #the beginning is something that actually happened to me #caught a sleeping construction worker who I sat across from on the bus when heading home from work #thankfully he was just a little taller than me and not a giant like fenrir #also my brother went through a phase of randomly doing trust falls in front of me so I am experienced in randomly having to catch people