#delightful. still not over it. great fight no notes

[revvethasmythh]

actually crazy how much I'm enjoying the heroic durge path thus far. like it's actually a shame I always hear people talk about durge as something they save for an evil run because if you are an angst enjoyer, this is simply one of the finest vintages I've had in a while. like, the limitless internal conflict, not knowing who you are, not knowing if you want to know who you were, trying to be a good person but fearing you never can be. Something is forcing you to do terrible things and you can't control it, so where does that end? is your determination to be better than your impulses stronger than the monster inside of you? what happens if you lose control and just keep falling? that's SEXY. that's fucking catnip for me personally, I'm literally living my best life rn

#I multiclassed as a cleric of tymora (because I love her) but also because: goddess of gamblers #if you know you can kill in your sleep every night is a gamble #what will happen when I close my eyes? will everyone still be alive when I wake up? #every time you put a weapon in your hand it's a gamble #will I kill the enemy? or will I lose control and harm an ally? #flip the coin. find out #the shadow cursed lands are also like. horrifyingly fantastic in general if you are an angst enjoyer (so far) #the stupid ambush where the enemies separate everyone in the party? INSANE. LOVED IT. everyone almost DIED. it was FANTASTIC #I was never more glad that 3/4 of my party members are able to cast misty step #and even THEN it was a struggle to get them able to cast! #delightful. still not over it. great fight no notes #I am having a GREAT time can you tell #rosie plays video games poorly #squad without the s

[vienssunshine]

Nanami's Hands Make a Great Necklace

pairing: Kento Nanami x fem reader nsfw word count: under 1k content warning: erotic choking/asphyxiation author’s note: I keep getting distracted from my other writing by these Nanami thirst situations my brain won’t stop focusing on.

When you first talk to Nanami about choking you, he is a little confused. He’s used to doing things like that in the context of fighting cursed spirits, not pleasuring his sweet girl. But you ask him so nicely, leveraging your pretty eyes and coquettish voice to make it near impossible for him to be close-minded. He is met with a kiss on his cheek and a victorious smile when he agrees to try it out. 

He fulfills your request the next night. You’re in his lap, back pressed against his chest and legs open and sprawled out over his. You’re doing such a good job at taking his thick fingers deep inside you, so when you bring his free hand up past your collarbone, asking a silent question, he can’t say no.

His palm covers the entire front of your neck when he wraps his fingers around it. Since he spent last night fully educating himself on your kinky interest, he knows to apply pressure to the sides of your throat and is gratified when he hears you gasp with delight and excitement in response. He can feel the vibrations under his palm as the honeyed sounds travel through your throat and it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Had to reward my pretty girl,” his voice rumbles in your ear, "Been so good for me."

“Mmmm thank you,” you slur out as the warm dizziness begins to hit your head. You melt into Nanami’s firm frame, a euphoric smile spread across your face. 

He hasn’t seen you like this before, so pliant and submissive for him. You’re giving him total control over your pleasure, your body, your life. He likes it, a lot. 

Still, this being unknown territory for him, he checks in, “Is this alright for you, sweet thing?” 

“S’perfect,” you murmur, eyes fluttering and arm coming up to drape around the back of his neck. Satisfied, Nanami begins to pump his fingers in and out of you once more, having eased the pace so as to not overwhelm you while trying something new.

You arch your spine at the renewed sensation and foolishly try to squirm away from the fierce pleasure his fingers are pushing into you. “Behave,” he states with a warning squeeze to your neck. 

He knows you tend to be bratty, not one that surrenders without a fight, but, this time, you listen to him, relaxing back into his chest and letting him care for your aching cunt. His sweet thing must love being choked. 

���I wish I had known about this sooner,” he says, his breath hot against the curve of your ear, “I didn’t know it made you such a good girl.”

Your shaky hand comes up to rest on the strong fingers encircling your neck, a wave of heat hitting you at the feeling of his rough knuckles underneath your touch. You like his hand there to a dangerous extent. “Was nervous,” you say, interrupted by a moan when he adds another finger to your dripping hole, “Nervous you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Darling, I would like anything that has you this sweet for me,” Nanami says. 

You turn your head on his shoulder and press a kiss to his cheek as best you can with pleasure assailing your poor body. He continues talking to you, the low timbre of his voice vibrating against your ear, but the haze hanging so heavily over you is making it hard to have your attention on anything other than the fingers massaging your insides. 

“My sweet thing can’t focus on anything anymore?” Nanami asks, a dark undercurrent in his tone, “Maybe I should give you a break.” He loosens his fingers around your throat, but before he can remove his hand, you cover it with your own, keeping it where it should be.

“I’m close,” you plead, shining eyes looking up to his stoic ones, “Need your hand around me when I cum.” 

He remains silent, waiting. You already know what he wants, and though you like to play coy with him, the nearness of your climax is excruciating, so you whimper out such a sweet “please” that he has to give in. 

“There, there,” he coos, his hand resuming its previous grip, “I can’t deny my pretty girl anything when she asks so nicely.” His fingertips press down hard on your pulse and you’re hit again with the sweet effects of deprivation. 

You get what you want as, with his rough hand around your throat, the sensation of cumming is divine. So lightheaded, you’re unable to feel anything else when it happens, momentarily forgetting your physical body in the waves of pleasure.

As you’re coming back down to reality, all you can sigh out is a string of ‘thank you’s. Even if you sound like a broken record, Nanami loves each iteration. What he knows for sure is that the next time you ask to try something out, he will have no hesitation.

#nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk nanami x reader #jjk smut #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #kento nanami smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n

[sebscore]

could we get more lando and gzd moments? like them playing more into their marriage rumor and reeking havoc during races like pushing into each other on the track or chasing each other around the paddock, they’d be such a chaos duo😭 i love grids delight💗

SNITCHES GET STITCHES

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: a collection of gen-z driver moments during the 2023 austria grand prix :) 

author's note: i am so confused about this as well, but just enjoy our lovely gzd being chaotic and just as confused as us! thank you for loving the series, darling!! i appreciate it a lot!!!

• • • • • • •

''Okay Y/N, so we have a 5 second penalty for the lap track limits. Keep it clean from now on.'' Marco's voice came through the radio, notifying the driver. 

She loudly sighed, momentarily lifting her hand from the steering wheel to show her frustration. ''What? Who snitched? Lando? Was it Lando? Oh, I bet it was Lando.'' Y/N rambled, glancing at the McLaren driver in her mirrors. 

''Just focus on driving. They're giving a lot of drivers penalties at the moment so don't worry about it too much.'' He brushed it off, not wanting her to get distracted by which driver reported on her breaking the rules. 

Y/N listened to his words and calmed down. ''Understood, Polo.'' She answered, trusting his judgement. 

''Y/N, Sainz told over the radio that you're intimidating him.'' Marco informed her as she pressured Carlos, fighting for the third spot on the podium. 

The driver frowned. ''Well… is the intimidation on the track with us right now?'' She chuckled. 

''Push harder, we have better pace than them.'' Her engineer had laughed himself when the message came in, finding humour in the Ferrari driver's comment to his own team. 

Y/N listened to Marco's instruction and intimidated the car in front of her even more, eventually passing him a few corners later. ''Marco, I passed him so he doesn't feel threatened anymore- aren't I such a good friend?'' She laughed, giving herself a pat on the wrist. 

The commentators and analysts tried hard not to cackle as her radio message was replayed on the broadcast, still wanting to remain their professional attitude. 

''Y/L overtakes Sainz from the inside with a nice message for the Spaniard attached to it- beautiful stuff we are seeing here at the Red Bull Ring.'' Crofty's voice sounded over the replay of said overtake. 

''Charlie, you're in my chair again.'' Y/N walked into the cooldown room, immediately noticing the Monégasque occupying her seat. The situation had also happened in Baku when the three of them made it onto the podium. 

The Ferrari driver glanced behind him, seeing her car number and team logo above his chair. ''Oh, sorry…'' 

He made an advance to switch seats, but she stopped him. ''It's okay- I'm P2 now.'' She teased, sitting down on his original chair. 

''It's been a while since we were on the podium together.'' Max stated, standing up from his seat and grabbing one of the towels that were laid there for them. 

Both Charles and Y/N nodded at him. ''Well, it's been a while since Charles was on the podium with us.'' The youngest corrected the Dutchman, chuckling at the Monégasque's unimpressed face. 

''I'm back.'' He simply smiled. 

While the second and third place drivers were joking around with each other, the RBR driver watched the replay of the race. ''A lot of penalties.'' He noted. 

''I got one.'' Y/N admitted, raising her eyebrow in light annoyance. 

The two men's heads shot up at that. ''Really? Track limits or what?'' Charles asked. 

The young woman nodded. ''Yeah, Mr. Norris ratted me out.'' There was a sarcastic tone to her voice, indicating she was joking and wasn't actually upset with her British friend. 

''Lando? That's funny.'' Charles had always been a fan of Y/N and Lando's friendship, their banter having made many great moments on the paddock and online. 

Max pointed at her. ''You should get revenge.'' He grinned, knowing she most likely already had something in mind. 

He realised he was right once he saw the mischievous smirk on her face. ''You know I will.'' She folded her hands together as if she was a villain in a superhero movie planning a grand scheme. 

''I'm scared for him.'' Charles said, relieved he wasn't a victim of her humorous retaliation. 

''You should be, Charlie.'' 

''YOU TOLD EVERYONE I PEED MYSELF SO HARD DURING THE RACE THAT THERE WAS A HOLE IN MY SUIT?!'' Lando stormed into her motorhome, his eyes widened in disbelief. 

Y/N had a devilish smirk on her face as the McLaren driver walked in, having expected him to waltz in. ''Snitches get stitches.'' 

''Oh, come on! You would have done the same thing!'' He defended his actions. 

''You,'' she pointed at him, ''think I,'' she pointed at herself, ''would have reported on you every time you went over the track limits? I would never, Lando.'' The way in which she was speaking sounded like that is exactly what she would do. 

''And by the way, no one would believe a thing like peeing so hard that there are holes in your clothes- people aren't that gullible.'' She said, brushing the entire thing off. 

Lando rolled his eyes. ''People are believing it! 'Lando peeing' is trending on Twitter already.'' 

Y/N snorted at his words, immediately covering her face as she loudly laughed in his face. ''L-Lan… pee- peeing…'' She couldn't get any words out, finding the situation too funny. 

''Stop laughing, it's not funny!'' Despite his words, Lando had started grinning himself- the sight of his best friend completely losing it being too much for her 'I have to remain serious'-facade. 

''I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think people would take it seriously.'' Y/N was still cackling while delivering her ''apology''. 

The Brit sighed. ''This is gonna haunt me for a while, isn't it?'' 

''I'm afraid so, Rumple.'' 

taglist :: @lorarri @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads

@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1 @elizanav @erinisrightheree @sachaa-ff

#f1 fic #f1 fics #lando norris x oc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x female driver #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagines #f1 oc

[pillow-anime-talk]

Hi, congrats on reaching 4000 Followers.💐. May I request Prompt 50 + Qin Shi Huang (RoR) and a shy reader with she/her prns, please?

# tags: scenario; current relationship; romance; smut; ragnarok time; shy!reader; nsfw

warnings: mention of sexual acitivities, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receives), sloppy, praise kink, pet names (i quess)

includes: female reader ft. qin shi huang {ror}

author’s note: thank you so much, anonnie! hope u enjoy it!

50. “S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.”

There is just over half an hour left until the fight between the Great Emperor of China and the King of the Underworld. While Hades was still in his realm and eating his favorite meal to ease the mounting pressure caused by the death of his brother and the words of other gods, Qin Shi Huang smiled and tangled his all fingers in the soft hair of a precious smiling woman who sucked his massive cock with the greatest grace and commitment, glancing up from time to time.

You were in one of the public bathrooms on the eighth floor of a huge building where fierce fights between people and gods of different religions took place; the time has also come for another – seventh in a row – battle, but you didn’t want to let your lover go to the duel without prior preparation and words of support.

“…Y/N, I’ll be late.” He said in a half whisper, half groan, then tightened his fingers on your soft hair one more time; now and again he touched your sweaty neck, cheeks, chin or collarbones, but most of all he focused on your sweet blushes, joyful eyes full of light and mischief and a smile that was hidden most of the time by a wet and swollen cock. “My beloved Queen…”

“Zheng, I’m sure I can handle it. Don’t worry.” You said with another smirk, more visible this time, and then closed your both eyes kissing the tip of his dick.

You had a special bond with the First Emperor of Qin; for over hundreds of years you were bound not only by crazy friendship and drinking alcohol in the nooks and crannies of the huge palace, but above all you were his secret mistress who awakened in him all the pleasures of the body and mind too. You were longtime lovers who, even after death, met in quiet places, avoiding curious glances and dangerous questions.

You sucked harder on the wet manhood, squeezing the swollen balls. With the greatest pleasure you bruised your knees, almost crying with delight at the sight of a powerful man who seemed so fragile and defenseless in your small hands.

“Good boy, I love doing this. Of course with you, my one and only King.” You whispered, moving away from the cock, then bit the dark-haired man on the patch of skin in the middle of his right thigh. Your left hand was still massaging testicles, and your right hand was clenching the fabric of his white pants that fell to the knees. The robe made of the highest quality material and fabrics gently touched your body from time to time, and you only sighed at the sweetness filling your mouth.

You were about to get up to kiss your beloved who won a long time ago your whole heart and mind on the lips, and also complete your little act of love in the traditional way, but your plans were thwarted by voices coming from behind the door to toilet. With a smile, you put his hard cock in your mouth again, and the man only frowned. The little thrill was something extremely exciting and interesting for you.

“S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.” He whispered in your direction, almost choking on the saliva in his own mouth, and you shrugged slightly, giggling and causing another dose of pleasure to the young-looking Emperor’s body. “Y/N, they see our clothes on the floor and your bare legs…”

“It’s okay, Zheng. No one would dare to interrupt us, would they? My Emperor…?” You smiled again, then sucked even harder on the tip of the precum-wet cock, almost moaning from the taste and warmth that filled your throat every few seconds.

#—🎉 #quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 50 #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok scenario #record of ragnarok scenarios #record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok imagines #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok x you #qin shi huang #qin shi huang scenarios #qin shi huang imagines #qin shi huang x reader #qin shi huang x you #qin shi huang x y/n

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#7: How'd I Get So Lucky Finding You (S9E01)

Imagine feeling lucky in a fallen world. 🥹 Losing so much and still feeling like you won because you found the ultimate love of your life. 😭 It’s beautiful and powerful that Richonne’s love is so strong that it has them feeling fortunate even after enduring a series of unfortunate events. And in this stunning scene, we get to see so much of why Rick and Michonne have an everlasting love. This scene is an absolutely heartwarming delight and it features my favorite thing Rick has ever said to Michonne in TWD 😍...

I will forever love the state of Richonne’s relationship in s9. They finally had time to breathe and be a family with Judith, and I loved every moment they got to relish in being together.

I always knew Rick and Michonne wouldn't be the type of couple who were only compatible in fight and survival mode - they're equally compatible in just living and being mode. 

So I appreciate that this scene takes its time to just be as the two cuddle up and showcase yet again why they work so perfectly with each other. They truly belong together and fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. 🥰

Also, I will always like that this scene of Richonne snuggled up in bed takes place in the Sanctuary of all places. Just more proof that nothing, not even the oppressive reign of Negan, was going to break Richonne because now Rick and Michonne are up in that batty man's crib fully immersed in their sweet Richonne bubble. 🤗

They just feel so married with Rick washing up and then getting in bed with Michonne as the two just instinctively get wrapped up in each other. And the way Rick kisses her forehead. 🥹 It’s always so clear that they feel the most safe to completely decompress and let their guard down with each other and are so precious to each other.

And I’m just giddy every time I hear Michonne adorably and playfully call Rick “the famous Rick Grimes” with that shoulder shimmy while resting on his chest. Perfection. 👌🏽

I love their teasing banter and how she’s addressing the way Rick's a legend to the people. As he should be. And Rick’s playful, "don’t you start too" response to hearing her say that is just great. 😊

It’s adorable that she plays with his beard while noting that the reverence people have for him is sweet. She gets it. She says, “just don’t let it get to your head” and Richonne tones for the win once again in this scene. 😍

And again the two bring up Maggie and how they feel for her since she has to deal with losing that Hilltop kid, which is particularly sad too because R&M lost their own teenage son just about a year and a half ago.

Rick and Michonne then have this moment where they both just take a synchronized deep breath and these two seriously always feel like one, especially in the way they breathe in this moment. 

I like how Rick seems tired as he closes his eyes, but then Michonne says his name, and he can always be awake and alert for her when they need to talk.

I really like too how Michonne and Rick both get honest about the fact that they wonder if they should have just killed Negan. To which I was like, yes...

But I appreciate that Michonne says "we" when talking about this choice because she and Rick are a package deal. Saving Negan without consulting the others was Rick’s most controversial move among tf, and it clearly had some tf members feeling understandably upset. But it’s nice that, by saying "we," Michonne doesn’t make Rick feel like he was alone in that choice.

Rick thinks the Saviors just want food, not Negan back in charge, and Michonne reminds him they don’t know that for sure, which is valid, and it’s great they can communicate like this.

And then I love that Michonne lets him know she’s been thinking about an agreement between the communities and that she maps out the idea with her hand over his heart. Their closeness really is unparalleled.

Also the way Rick is looking at his wife throughout this scene is um...it's gold and damn near made me lose my train of thought so let me get myself back on track lol.

I love that Rick affirms Michonne's idea, telling her it’s good and smart, and how he looks right at her while saying it could bring people closer together. And the way Michonne touches him. I love that they really don’t take their hands off each other for pretty much the entire scene. 😊

And then Rick opens up and lets her know what's on his mind as he shares that Daryl isn’t happy, and it makes him worried about things breaking down. Scenes like this are why I believe Michonne is not just Rick's wife but truly his best friend. They always can confide in each other and express everything going on inside - their hopes, ideas, worries, and fears.

It’s sweet that Michonne acknowledges the validity of what Daryl feels. And Rick groans a bit and says Daryl cares too much sometimes. I appreciate that Michonne can sense Rick's headspace so clearly here and doesn’t want a divide to be caused between those two brothers (even tho it ends up being a bit too late sadly).

The way Michonne whispers 'hey' and then gently turns Rick's face towards her, it’s like a visible illustration of how she centers him and reminds him to stay focused on the good and how to move things forward. And of course, Rick is receptive to this redirection as he looks into her eyes. Love it. 😊

Michonne acknowledges that if Daryl is worried then there’s a reason. And again, because R&M are a package deal, she asks, "What do we do about it?" knowing however they handle it, it will be together. 

And then, like a well-oiled machine, Rick says he thinks they need to fix that bridge, and Michonne says she'll get the people to agree to a charter. Look at these leaders making big community decisions all while snuggling in bed together. 🥰

So then it’s Rick’s turn to do some teasing when he asks if it’ll be a "charter or constitution?" Again, I love how lines like these show Rick and Michonne know each other's humor as Michonne amusedly confirms it'll be a charter. And it's just sweet too cuz, while they're playing around, I'm sure Rick fully believes Michonne would be capable of drafting up a whole effective constitution for the new world lol.

Their synchronized smiles at this moment are seriously the best. 🙌🏽And then Rick kissing her three times is even better. The way Michonne smiles at him. The way he always has to come back for more. I live.😍

And I just absolutely love getting to see Rick and Michonne in such a relaxed happy state. Scenes like this make it so clear why Rick and Michonne haven't moved on from each other after all those years apart. You don't move on from a love like this.

Richonne gives each other joy like no other and this whole exchange shows how they work so effortlessly together as leaders and lovers. What a pair. 🤩 As Andy said, they truly are perfect partners in this imperfect world.

Plus it’s just always so sweet that two of the strongest, fiercest, most intimidating warriors in the world find each other so cute and cuddly. 😋

Y'all, Richonne + cars is a thing, and also Richonne + candle-lit scenes too, because they are always A1.

...But then the candles get blown out, and this scene proceeds to reach its peak of perfection. 🤩

As someone who loves a lengthy Richonne scene, I remember first watching this ep live and being so happy that they weren’t cutting away from them once the lights went out. I had no idea it was because we were in for something so heavenly. 😇

Cuz they turn off the lights and then immediately wrap their arms around each other again to go to sleep and it’s always so sweet seeing Rick softly touch her hair. All the little gestures just feel like this person in their arms is their treasure who has their whole heart. #ILoveEveryRichonneDetail

Then....y'all then Rick opens his eyes to utter the greatest thing he's ever said to Michonne thus far - “How’d I get so lucky finding you?”

BEAUTIFUL. Powerful, meaningful, romantic, fitting, perfect. I could go on. 👩🏽‍🍳💋

I love the delivery of the line because it really feels like it’s this reoccurring thought for Rick that, at this moment, his mind was thinking and just had to utter out loud.

It's fitting he’d say this after the convo they just had because it really did capture why Michonne is so perfect for him, and I love that he knows it and vocalizes it. Michonne is a genuinely phenomenal individual, so it makes perfect sense that Rick feels not just happy but lucky to have her.

And just to think about their journey and know that we’d arrive at a point where Rick reflects on when he met Michonne and feels so personally lucky to have found her. 😭 She’s his soulmate, and he knows it wholeheartedly. 

And I love that beyond literally finding each other, there’s something deep about the way Rick and Michonne found each other in their truest form. They saw each other in a deeper way and brought each other back from the lost state they were in. 

Also, I always think it’s sweet how Rick said this with zero other motives - this was just his abundant love for her pouring out. I’m so grateful that in Rick's final season, they didn’t give him and Michonne any tiffs or division, but rather showed that they have only grown closer and more in love since the last season. 

Like after one of the series' longest time jumps, I adore that we return to a Rick and Michonne who have clearly spent the last year and a half strengthening their bond even more, and healing, and fully enjoying their life together. They are really and truly an unbreakable unit who only fall more in love the more time they spend together.

When I think about all Rick and Michonne have been through together and all they’ve built, it’s just the absolute greatest thing to know Rick thinks about his life and feels so sincerely lucky that he found Michonne. We knew that the day they found each other at the prison fence was life-changing, and it's great to see them two know it too.

If you were to tell Season One Rick that he was going to eventually lose his son, Carl, but would still have family that made him feel like a lucky man, he'd probably think you were crazy. And yet, this is the power of Richonne. The family found between Rick and Michonne runs so deep and is so authentic that, even after the most painful loss imaginable, Rick knows he still has so much to live for because he has Michonne and Judith.

Then it’s so sweet that Michonne hears Rick say this heart-bursting line and takes his hand because she feels the same way, and is likely thinking that's the...

#DirectQuoteFromHerMind you already know. 😋

And then Michonne softly tells Rick, "We both lost enough, it’s time we won a little don’t you think?" My heart. 😭 This moment is everything.

And y’all, I had gone back and re-read one of my old Richonne in Retrospect posts from several years ago where I reflected on a s6 scene between Michonne and David, that Alexandrian who got bit in 6.03. In that 6.03 scene, David talks to Michonne about his love story which completely and intentionally mirrors Michonne's own love story with Rick. And in that old post, I wrote this: 

"Rick and Michonne finding each other in all this is really one of the best things that happened to them. And in this type of world people take a whole lot of L’s so it’s cool that they were actually able to find such a big win in finding each other…and if R&M ever verbally imply a similar sentiment to each other about how finding each other in all this was everything, this will literally be me…"

So the fact that over a year after I wrote that, Rick and Michonne express exactly this...😭🙌🏾😭 It is the best ever. And just as I predicted, that gif above was and still is me whenever I watch this scene. It is just so powerful for Rick and Michonne to feel like amid all their loss, they still won big time by finding each other and falling in love. 

And then Michonne so lovingly kisses his hand, and Rick is perfectly content with that exchange as he shuts his eyes. But then, once again, the gift that keeps on giving gives us even more. 🤩

Cuz Michonne turns to look at him and then Rick...y’all, I’ll never get over how he looks at her right here. Like he looks right at Michonne with a breathtaking look that says, “I’m wholly and completely yours” and so clearly shows that she seriously means everything to him.

(also! y'all, I wrote this whole post before that V-day trailer, and so the fact that we've now got to hear Rick directly say, "I am yours," before the show even officially premieres 😍😍😍 my goodness TOWL is just blessings on blessings)

So then they kiss and it wonderfully ramps up with Michonne getting on top of him and reiterating "the famous Rick Grimes." 😏

…except this time, i think sis means he’s famous for reasons only she knows about. and that’s their business. 😋

As Danai has noted before, Rick knows how to make Michonne vulnerable, and Michonne knows how to make Rick laugh, which is just sublime.

And the way Rick laughs at the close of this scene - you know that if there’s one person he likes being "the famous Rick Grimes" to it’s Mrs. Grimes. 😊

Y’all, this whole scene blessed us ten times over. Our ship has it all. And we really do get whatever we want lol. 💅🏽

(Side note: it's also important to note that we don't just get whatever we want as some sort of forced fan service from the show. (Considering Gimple was planting Richonne seeds before viewers had even seen the two on screen together, that fan-service take simply can't be true). The real reason we get what we want is because the very love story we want to see is also the very love story the show wanted to organically craft. These TWD writers, actors, producers, network/production companies etc, fully recognize Rick and Michonne's relationship as a special marriage with crazy love between two tethered soulmates, and we're just in agreement and alignment with that. And I feel fortunate that the canon story being told is as beautiful, romantic, and authentic as we wanted and knew it would be)

I’m so grateful for this tender scene and that these actors are so capable of playing every shade of Richonne perfectly. Like we got serious, playful, romantic, steamy, and utterly heartfelt all in this one scene. 🙌🏾

And while Rick has expressed feeling so lucky to have Michonne in the way he looks at her for many seasons, it was wonderful to hear him also outright verbalize that in finding her he found a true reward. He doesn’t take her for granted, and Michonne doesn’t either, knowing that he is her win in all this too. 

This moment is also beautiful because Rick and Michonne are two selfless individuals who have been put through the wringer on their individual and shared journeys yet still remained dedicated to giving their all to protect their people - And then the universe sent them each other and said ♡ you deserve to be taken care of too, ♡ you deserve to be held too, ♡ you deserve a gift that's just for you too. ♡ oh and also the gift that we're sending you is...

Rick and Michonne are each other's blessing. This scene solidified that beautifully.

They won because of each other, and we won with special scenes like this that contribute so much to Richonne’s perfect love story. 😌

#richonne #the best thing Rick said to Mrs. Grimes 😍 #one week until TOWL!!! #this time next week I'll be watching my babies on screen again 😭 #can't wait 🥳 #top 30 #top 10 #number 7 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #twd 9.01 #twd towl #the ones who live

[circethesinner]

infuriating ⟐ xavier thorpe

pairing: xavier thorpe x reader oneshot (second person pov - she/her pronouns used for reader - occasional use of Y/N)

wednesday x enid mentioned

warning(s) : mild language, enemies to lovers, mild violence, injury, and bl**d mentioned

word count: 6.2k

⭑•⊱✩masterlist✩⊰•⭑

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summary: no matter what you did, xavier would somehow find a way to one up you - but when he accuses you of something you didn't do, you set off on a mission to clear your name and help him

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

 Sometimes you mourned the friendship that could have been between you. 

Then he’d do something that boiled your blood until it evaporated, and the mourning was replaced with seething rage.

“Looks like I won again, Y/N,” Xavier’s smile was so smug you wanted to slap it off of his face. “I’d say ‘better luck next time’, but we both know it takes more than luck for you to beat me.” 

“I am going to sprinkle shattered glass in all of your left shoes,” You glared at him, snatching the test paper from his hands and comparing his score to yours.

One point.

He’d beaten you by One. Fucking. Point.

“Flee from my presence, foul creature,” You shoved the test paper into his chest and turned around, making yourself look busy by rooting through your bag. “I can still hear your breathing.”

“Just revelling in my victory a little,” You could practically hear his smirk as he spoke. Taking deep breaths, you tried not to engage with him. You’d gotten in trouble for fighting in class before, and you weren’t going to let it happen again because he couldn’t help but shove his victory in your face. Your breathing didn’t return to normal until you’d heard him walk away, catching up to Ajax to likely gloat about his achievement. 

That was the fifth test in a row that he’d beaten you on, and it was infuriating. Xavier Thorpe was utterly infuriating in every way possible. You had spent nearly every waking hour studying, yet he would doodle in the margins of his textbooks and still come out on top.

You swung your bag over your shoulder, feeling the weight of your sketchbook clunk against your back as the corners jabbed you in the spine. You considered it to be the sketchbook taking revenge on you as it lay at the bottom of your bag, having been left untouched for over a month. As much as you adored art, you couldn’t face it much anymore. Not just because you didn’t have time, it was what it represented to you now. He’d soiled one of the few activities you enjoyed with his mere being, and you hated how much it got to you as much as you hated him.

Art was what you and Xavier had bonded over in that first week at Nevermore. You would sit together under the shade of the trees on the outskirts of the forest, drawing and comparing your individual art styles, taking notes from one another. You had admired how he’d make his art come to life and delighted in it when he’d lean over and do the same for yours.

You were both good students, great students even. Two of the top scorers in almost every class. At first, it was a playful competition to see who could do better. You would take friendly jabs at one another, but the mood soured like milk that had been left on the kitchen counter for a week in the middle of summer. 

It started with a comment here and there that would hit home, you’d brush it off at the time, but it would weigh on you. Soon, those jabs became sharper and more frequent.

You weren’t a saint. You knew you were guilty of dishing them out as much as you were taking them in. Somewhere, the bond you two had briefly shared was cut entirely, and that was it. You hated one another.

It wasn’t just academically that he would one-up you; it was everything. 

You got a new paintbrush? That’s cool. He got a whole set.

You won a teddy at the fair? That’s amazing. He won five of them.

You got to turn an old supply cupboard into a mini art studio? That’s great. He fixed up a whole shed.

Everything you did, he had to do better. You could keep up at first. It was back and forth. You’d beat him one day; he’d beat you the next, and so on. However, your grip was slipping, and it was clear to everyone who knew you.

You had increasingly stopped talking to people, started to eat meals at your own table so you could study in between bites without interruption, stopped showing up to fencing club. The list went on.

“Pick three colours!” Enid threw her arm around your shoulder as you were walking. You flinched, having not expected it, but acclimated very quickly. You were more than used to Enid’s ambushes and hugs after two years at Nevermore.

“Pink, purple, and blue,” You answered, trying to use the arm that wasn’t pressed up against her side to readjust your bag so it would stop literally stabbing you in the back. “Why do you ask?”

“I got a new manicure set the other day, and we are going to treat ourselves to a nice spa evening,” She announced proudly. “We’ll put on some cheesy movies, eat some junk food, do face masks, the whole nine yards!”

“Enid, that sounds lovely, but I really have to study for-” You tried to protest, but she cut you off.

“Nope! I’m not taking that again!” She shook her head wildly. “You’ve cancelled on me seven times in the past three weeks so you could study.”

“You’re free to study with me,” You offered up. Enid stopped walking and turned to you, grabbing your shoulders, so you faced her.

“Y/N, I am genuinely concerned for your health,” She sighed, shaking you slightly as she spoke. “The bags under your eyes are not designer! You look like you haven’t slept in a year, and all you do is study!” 

You wouldn’t admit it to her, but your sleep had been rough for a while. You’d stay up until 3am studying, then go down for two hours of restless sleep full of nightmares of failure, only to wake up at 5am to get some more studying in before class. As for the weekends? Sleep simply didn’t exist.

“I just really need to-” You tried to protest again, but Enid was having none of it.

“I’m not asking you to relax. I’m forcing you to,” She said firmly. She let go of your shoulders, but before you could react and escape, she had your hand in a death grip as she dragged you to your dorm.

“Enid! Claws!” You pleaded as her sharpened nails dug in slightly, but she was too busy making sure you got to your dorm without escaping to take notice.

Once you had reached your dorm, you noticed that Enid had already set everything up on your bed. Your roommate, Yoko, was notably missing, and you cursed under your breath when you realised that they had likely been planning this ambush for a while.

“This is going to be a fun, relaxing evening!” She smiled as she finally let go of your hand. You rubbed the area where her claws had dug into you as you pouted at her. “Don’t give me that look! You brought this on yourself. Now sit down, and relax.”

She switched some awful cheesy rom-com on and set to work shaping and painting your nails.

After a while, you did manage to relax. It was nice to be pampered a little, and the rom-com was so bad that it made you laugh, something you realised you hadn’t done in a while. 

You were halfway through the second movie when someone started pounding on your door. Regrettably, you knew the voice demanding to be let in immediately.

“Don’t,”  Enid warned, clearly also recognising the voice.

“I’ll just make him leave,” You signed, getting up as slowly as you could just to antagonise him.

“I can hear you in there!” Xavier shouted, still banging on the door. He almost fell into your room when you opened the door. Pushing past you, he barely paid attention to Enid as he started to open your drawers. “Where is it?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled back. You’d never seen him look this frantic before. Whatever had happened had shaken him, but that wasn’t an excuse to barge into your room and root through your belongings. “Whatever you’re looking for isn’t in my goddamn underwear draw, you creep.” You slammed your drawer shut, only just missing getting his fingers trapped, which was a shame in your eyes.

“Where is it?” He repeated, turning around and apparently only just noticing Enid on your bed. He pointed at her accusingly. “Did you help her?”

“Don’t bring Enid into whatever little fucking mind games you’re playing!” You stood in front of your bed, blocking Enid from his view. “What are you even looking for?”

“My sketchbook,” He answered, his eyes still scanning every surface of your room. “I know you took it.”

“You know I took it?” You repeated, completely flabbergasted. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re-” He gestured at you wordlessly. You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know who pissed in your cereal this morning, but I didn’t take your sketchbook,” You told him firmly, pushing on his chest to try and usher him out of your room. “Now get out of here before I summon every teacher I can and say that you barged into my room and rifled through my bras.”

“Where is my sketchbook?” He asked again, standing firmly still so you couldn’t push him away.

“Where did you last see it?” Enid asked, standing up to join you. You almost cursed how helpful she naturally was but couldn’t find it in you to be even remotely upset with her.

“I left it in my room after class while Ajax and I hung out in the quad, and when I went back to my room, it was gone,” His eyes had met yours and were fixed in a stone-cold glare. “I know you took it.” Before you could defend yourself, Enid jumped in again.

“That settles it then! Y/N can’t have taken it!” She told him, sounding relieved that she could settle the conflict. “I pulled Y/N back here straight from class, and we’ve been here since! She hasn’t left my sight for a second.”

“She wouldn’t even let me pee by myself,” You added, hoping to solidify it further. “She followed me into the stall and faced the opposite direction.” 

“How do I know you weren’t an accomplice?” Xavier asked, focusing back on Enid. “You could just be covering for her.”

“Oh, please! She couldn’t lie to a dead fish,” You rolled your eyes and turned to her. “Watch this! Enid, do you have a crush on Wednesday?”

“What?” Enid giggled nervously, playing with her hair. “Nooo!” 

“See!” You pointed at her, looking back at Xavier. “She plays with her hair whenever she lies.”

“No I don’t!” Enid tried to protest but realised she was still playing with her hair as she denied it. With a small ‘shoot’ muttered under her breath, her hand dropped, and she looked down at the floor.

“I didn’t take your sketchbook, Xavier,” You repeated for the final time, watching as his shoulders dropped in realisation that you were telling the truth. “But we’re going to find out who did.”

“Wait, what?” They said it in unison, each looking at you in confusion. You felt almost as much confusion with yourself when the words had left your mouth, unsure where they’d come from. But you had said it now, and you weren’t going to backtrack.

“Why the hell would you want to help?” Xavier asked.

“Firstly, to clear my name,” You told him, tapping on your nails to make sure they were dry before you started this ordeal. They were still a little tacky, but you figured it would be okay. “Secondly, stealing a sketchbook? That’s unforgivable.” 

“Can’t you just buy another one?” Enid sighed, looking longingly over at the bed where the snacks she’d curated for the evening lay undisturbed.

“Buy another one?” It was your turn to speak in unison with Xavier.

“Look, Enid, while Xavier was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, sketchbooks can’t just be replaced that easily!” You received a small jab in the side with Xavier’s elbow at the silver spoon comment but ignored it as best as you could. “I’ll put this in terms you’ll understand, okay? A sketchbook is to an artist what Moona is to you.” Moona was Enid’s favourite plush teddy. It was a wolf that Wednesday had won at the fair, which she had claimed she’d won accidentally, but you knew for a fact that she’d specifically won it for Enid. It was an irreplaceable treasure to the lovesick werewolf.

“Well, then, why are you still waiting around?” She gasped, pushing the two of you out the door.

“Are you not helping?” You asked, trying to plead with her not to leave you alone with Xavier without using words.

“I would, but I really need to find out of Jack and Sarah end up together!” Enid nodded back over at the laptop where the rom-com you had been halfway through had been paused.

“They’re the main characters, and they hate each other,” You scoffed. “Of course they’re going to end up together!”

She mouthed the word ‘sorry’ without a trace of actually being it on her face as she closed the door behind you both. You heard the lock click behind it.

“Enid! That’s my room!” You groaned, leaning against the door. “You can’t just lock me out of it!” From inside, you heard the sound of the movie being turned up to cover your voice.

“You don’t have to do this,” Xavier sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know I don’t have to,” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from the door.

“So you want to?” He looked smug again, and it boiled your blood.

“No, shut up,” You waved your hand around in front of his face as though you were fighting the words off physically. “Just show me to your room so we can get this over with.”

“That’s what she- never mind,” He stopped himself midway through the sentence, but you knew exactly what he was about to say. With a small, seemingly nervous laugh, he pushed his hair out of his face again and started walking.

“Tie your hair up,” You instructed, holding out your wrist so he could take the spare pink hair tie you kept on it.

“Why?” He asked, taking the hair tie and doing so anyway.

“It’s annoying me,” You told him, ignoring the look of ‘are you serious?’ he had given you in return. “Do you have any pieces of it? A page you ripped out?” You asked as you neared his door. “Hell, even a sticker that was on it might work.”

“Uhh…” He opened his door, looking around his room for something that would fit the bill. You noted that it looked like he’d torn the whole place apart to try and find his sketchbook. He walked over to his bed, rooting around in the storage he kept under it before pulling something out. “This is a page I ripped out of it.”

He passed it over to you. It was folded up tightly, and you went to unfold it. You didn’t need to. You were just nosey.

“Don’t-” He held his hands over yours, stopping you. “It’s… just don’t look at it.”

“You been drawing naked ladies? Naked men?” You teased him but stopped trying to open it. Whatever it was, he wanted to keep private and you, as much as you disliked him, respected that much at least.

“If you’re not going to help, just-” He tried to take it from your hands, but you snatched it away before he could.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You raised an eyebrow as his shoulders slumped in acceptance. “Turn around.” 

“What? Why?” He looked incredibly skeptical. Convinced now more than ever that you were playing some sort of elaborate prank on him.

“Fine, I will!” You sighed, turning your back to him. You rooted through your bra until you found what you were looking for, hearing a quiet ‘what the fuck?’ being mumbled under Xavier’s breath. When you grew up with pocketless clothes, you had to learn to make do.

You had pulled out a hand-drawn map of the school grounds. It wasn’t your finest work, but it did the job. You had also pulled your necklace off to use.

This wasn’t your first rodeo. You knew what you were doing. You’d been scrying since you were 7. You could do this in your sleep.

“As much as it… pains me to say….” You took a deep breath as you placed the map on Xavier’s bed and sat crossed-legged in front of it. “I need you to… ugh… hold my hand.” You held your hand out, the torn and folded page from his scrapbook in it. Wordlessly, he took it.

Within seconds of focusing your energy, your necklace zoned in on the quad. You were thankful to be able to pull your hand away from his.

“It’s in the quad,” You said as he examined the map.

“Are you sure?” Xavier asked, looking doubtful. “Can we double-check?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just looking for an excuse to hold my hand,” You groaned, holding it out again. He took it, and the necklace once again zoned in on the quad immediately. “I swear to god, if you took your sketchbook with you and left it there yourself, I will never let you live it down.” 

“I didn’t take it with me, I swear,” He protested, his head tilting back in annoyance.

“Can you let go of my hand now?” You asked, trying to wiggle your hand free. He’d been gripping it tighter than last time. As soon as he realised what you’d said, he dropped your hand like it had the plague. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I know where it is now. You don’t have to come with me,” He pointed out. “That is unless you’re not confident in your scrying.”

“I am going to shove that damn sketchbook up your ass when we find it,” You glared at him getting off of his bed, brushing yourself off dramatically as though it had been filthy. “I’m going with you because, and I say this with all due respect, which is none, if someone had hypothetically taken your sketchbook, what would you do about it? They’re clearly not scared of you if they broke into your room and stole from you.”

“And you’re supposed to do what exactly?” Xavier scoffed at you. “Have you seen yourself? You’re the least intimidating person I’ve met.”

“I’ll show you intimidating,” You stormed off, determined to get to the quad and show whoever it was a piece of your mind, just to prove a point.

You should have known who it was before you turned the corner and met eyes with him. Josh was a werewolf with an attitude. Enid had once described him as ‘if anger issues were personified’, which was very accurate. The meathead was usually more bark than bite, but when he did bite… Well, he would quite literally bite, which wasn’t the safest thing for a werewolf to do.

He’d been in trouble more than once for breaking into people’s rooms and stealing their stuff just for the thrill of it. People tended to be too afraid to call him out on it after he’d sent three kids to the infirmary. But you had a point to prove.

“Drop it!” You spoke to him the same way you would with a dog who had grabbed something they weren’t supposed to have, which you deemed a very accurate comparison in this case. Xavier rounded the corner to see what was happening.

“Make me!” He taunted, flicking through the pages, not even looking at the images. You heard Xavier suck in a breath as he watched one of Josh’s claws catch and tear a page.

“Fine, I will,” You stepped forward, full of what you knew was pure spite and stupidity masking as anger. With each step you took, your shoes clacked against the cobblestone flooring and echoed throughout the structure.

From behind you, you were vaguely aware of Xavier calling your name, the volume increasing the closer you got to Josh.

“What are you gonna do? Hit-” You cut him off with a square punch to the face with your right hand as you grabbed at the sketchbook with your left. You didn’t even allow yourself to wince as his claws scratched your hand. If anything, you feared Enid’s reaction to you messing up your new manicure she’d worked so long on more than the practically feral werewolf you’d just punched. 

The following few seconds were a blur full of tears, but surprisingly not yours. Josh was crying as he clutched his nose, which was now bleeding profusely. Without saying anything, he slunk away.

“Holy shit…” Xavier was right behind you by the time Josh had disappeared. “That was…” He couldn’t quite seem to find the right words.

“Your sketchbook,” You turned around to pass it to him, but he caught your wrist before he’d even taken the book back.

“Infirmary,” Was all he said as he studied the scratch marks, which, now that the immediate rush of adrenaline had worn off a bit, hurt. You nodded and allowed him to drag you to get the scratch checked out. 

Five minutes later, you were sitting on a chair in the infirmary following a lecture about being careless from the nurse. Xavier hadn’t left your side, nor had he spoken since you’d arrived.

Usually, you enjoyed not having to hear his annoying know-it-all tone, but the silence was making you uncomfortable.

“The words are ‘thank you’ in case you’ve forgotten them,” You joked, hoping to lighten the mood. You thought you saw the ghost of a brief smile cross his face, but it was gone when he saw the scratches again. You brought your sleeve down to cover them in the hope that it’d make him talk, but you were still receiving radio silence. Eventually, you were annoyed with him again. It was to be expected. He was infuriating even when silent. “If you’re going to act like a stubborn child, just leave.” You spat out at him, turning your head away to look out the window. It had gotten very dark by that point, and it was bound to be curfew soon.

“You’re so reckless,” You almost dared to smile when you heard him talk at last, but you pushed down whatever weird part of you had presented that idea to the table, firing it immediately. It could go seek unemployment in someone else’s mind.

“Got the job done, didn’t I?” You pointed out proudly, nodding at the book that rested on his lap. “And I’d say I was pretty intimidating.”

“Well, I’d say you were pretty stupid,” He sighed. He’d let his hair down again at some point, your pink hair tie now round his wrist. You’d ask for it back later. It wasn’t that important to you. You had about 50 more scattered around your room and in your bag; you were pretty sure there was even one tied to the tag of your blazer. 

“You’re so cute when you think I care about what you think,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“You think I’m cute?” Xavier had a smug grin on his face that you wished you could punch off. But, given what had just happened, you thought better of it.

“Shit! No! Fuck!” You cussed, throwing your head back in annoyance. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“What I know is that you just called me cute,” Before you could come up with a worthy retort, the nurse came around to check the scratches and sent you both away. As you’d predicted, it was almost curfew, not that anyone really abided by it, but it meant the halls were quieter than they would usually be. 

You were at your door by the time it registered that Xavier had walked you back to your room. You’d walked together in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It almost felt like a peace offering of sorts. You weren’t sure if it would last when you woke up the next morning, but dare you say, you enjoyed it while it did.

“Thank you for….” You felt wrong thanking the person you’d considered your sworn enemy, but you were raised with manners, and it felt even more wrong to not be polite when someone was kind to you. “Walking me to my door.”

“Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t punch anyone else,” Xavier didn’t make eye contact with you, but the slightest smile crossed his face. “Thank you for….” He held up the sketchbook he’d been holding.

“Don’t mention it,” You shrugged, leaning slightly against your door. “Seriously, don’t mention this to anyone. I can’t have people thinking I’m soft.”

“I think Josh’s nose will speak for itself,” He joked, allowing the smile to properly settle as he spoke. “Make sure you put that stuff the nurse gave you on your hand.”

“Shit!” You groaned as you realised you’d forgotten it back in the infirmary, rifling through your pockets in some hope that you’d just placed it in one of them without realising what you were doing. You pulled out some loose change and a bar of chocolate that you’d forgotten you’d picked up last time you were in Jericho, which was a score, but no sign of the salve the nurse had given you. “Goddamnit, I left it at-” You froze as Xavier waved the little pot in front of your face.

“You mean this?” He teased, holding it just out of reach. You glared at him, trying to grab at it anyway. After some jumping, you managed to grab it, pulling him down with it in the process.

You didn’t realise quite how close his face was to yours until it was all you could see. The movement was so subtle that you almost didn’t catch it, but you saw his eyes so briefly dart down to look at your lips.

You were aware that your breathing had gotten heavier, and your heart rate was starting to pick up as his face inched closer and closer to yours. What confused you was that you were making no move to stop whatever was about to happen from happening. That was until your door swung open, and the two of you parted so fast you would have just been a blur.

“I was wondering what the noise out here was!” Enid grinned, leaning on your doorframe. “You managed to get it back?”

“I punched Josh,” You proudly held up your hand, only for Enid to grab it and examine it in pure horror.

“You smudged the nail polish!” She gasped, her voice laced with pure outrage. “We’re starting over! Come on!” She started to tug you into the room before you could protest against it.

Your other hand was caught by Xavier, who pressed the pot of salve into it wordlessly before he rushed off down the hall, assumably to his own dorm. You managed to just about kick your door closed before Enid had pulled you away entirely to try and salvage what had been ruined.

Looking down at your free hand, you noticed that the salve wasn’t the only thing Xavier had left with you. In your hand, you held the torn piece of paper you recognised from earlier, still folded. You decided to open it when Enid went to sleep or disappeared back to her own room.

That didn’t happen for another four hours. You were exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open as Enid finished doing your nails for the sixth time before she was finally happy. She’d curled up at the end of your bed and fallen asleep immediately after, the fifth rom-com of the night playing in the background.

Yoko hadn’t returned to your shared room, but she rarely did on weekends as she was too busy with Divina. You usually enjoyed the quiet evenings you’d get to yourself or at least enjoyed not being told to turn the light off at 4am as you were still hunched over studying so you could do better on whatever test was coming up next. But having company was nice once in a while, even if that company talked at 100 miles an hour and had absolutely destroyed your cuticles.

Remembering the piece of paper Xavier had left with you, you pulled it out of your pocket, trying desperately not to smudge the still tacky nail polish as you feared Enid had a sixth sense and would awaken from her slumber foaming at the mouth.

Carefully, you unfolded the piece of paper, holding it up to the dim light of the laptop as you’d long since turned the other lights off. 

Your eyes scanned the image; even in the low light, it was clear as day. On the piece of paper, curled under a tree with a book in hand, was you. Every detail, down to the strands of your hair, sticking up at odd angles after a long day. You looked serene, almost ethereal. It was difficult to understand how anyone, let alone Xavier, could have seen you and depicted you in such a beautiful way.

Though your eyes were begging you to finally allow them to rest, you reached over and pulled your own sketchbook out. After a long month, you finally allowed a wave of artistic inspiration to flow through you.

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

Slip the drawing under his door and get away from there as fast as you could. The plan was so simple, yet you repeated it in your head like a mantra so you wouldn’t forget.

Unfortunately, your plan didn’t account for how small the gap in between the bottom of the door and the floor would be. Nor did you plan for Xavier to be in his room and open it as soon as he’d seen the piece of paper start to wiggle through the small gap and heard your disgruntled grumbles from the other side. His hair was damp, and you could smell the shampoo he always used. You weren’t sure when you’d committed it to memory, but you had told yourself it was just so you could avoid him better if you could smell him a mile away.

“I know your hand is busted, but you do have two of them, so you could have used the other to do it,” He looked down at you as you slowly stood to your feet, trying to hide the piece of paper behind your back. Unfortunately for you, he caught it before you had a chance to. “You’ve been trying to shove this under my door for three minutes, don’t tell me you suddenly don’t want me to see it?” He teased you, unfolding the paper. It was only folded in half, so you didn’t have time to dash away before he could open it. 

That didn’t stop you from trying, of course. You’d managed to spin on your heel and take a single step before a hand grabbed your shoulder. Using the leverage, he turned you to face him.

You expected a variety of different reactions.

Laughing at your face?

A shouting match?

Maybe just an awkward ‘thanks’?

What you didn’t expect was for his hand to gently cup your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. In fact, it was so unexpected that your brain hadn’t registered what was happening until he was pulling away.

Your eyes were wide, and your lips were parted as you watched a flurry of emotions cross his face. Confusion, happiness, annoyance, until finally settling on embarrassment.

“Sorry- I just thought-” He took a step back. His face had turned a brighter shade of red than you’d ever seen on him before. You’d seen his face flush from anger, but this was different. “I think I misread the situation, sorry.”

“No! It’s fine I-” You struggled to put your own emotions into words. “I… think I was… I think I maybe… liked that?” Though the words sounded uncertain, you knew them to be true the moment they had left your lips.

“Can I do it again?” He asked. His words were fast, as though they were falling out before he had a chance to catch them. You didn’t have to answer him properly as you surprised yourself by taking a step forward and pulling him down into a kiss. It was clumsy and fast but felt so right. You were the first to pull away, noticing how his lips tried to chase yours as you did so. Instead of kissing you again, he settled with just resting his forehead against yours.

“I don’t think I have the energy to keep pretending I hate you,” He sighed, closing his eyes. His arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest. His words felt warm as they reached your ears. You tried to find a snarky response, as was customary in your exchanges, but you couldn’t find anything. Perhaps you were just equally as tired of pretending to hate him? 

The two of you instinctively let go and took a step away from one another as soon as the sound of someone’s voice echoed down the hall, increasing in volume as they grew closer.

“Should we…?” You nodded at his open door. His hand found yours, and he pulled you into his room. You took note of how he’d taken your injured hand but had avoided touching the area where it would hurt. You weren’t sure if this was intentional or not, but the tender look in his eyes as they fixed on yours once the door was closed behind him suggested it was intentional.

Your eyes trailed down to his hand again, noticing the pink hair tie on his wrist. His hair was damp, but the hair tie wasn’t. He’d taken it off so he could shower and had gone out of his way to place it back on his wrist afterwards.

“I just wanted to impress you,” He sighed softly, his fingers slowly lacing with your own. It was a foreign but pleasant feeling. “I kept on hoping that you’d notice me more if I did well in class, which you did… But by the time I realised it wasn’t working in the way I’d intended….”

“You just doubled down on it?” You finished his sentence for him.

“It was stupid, but you were talking to me more,” He shrugged. “At one point, I considered failing classes so you’d have to tutor me, but I realised it was too late, and you’d just celebrate my loss instead of helping me.”

“As much as I’d like to argue with that, you’re right,” You laughed lightly. It wasn’t a laugh of joy but rather one of disbelief upon reflection. Had you really spent the past two years actively hating someone over a misunderstanding of intention? “So what do we do now?”

“Well, I had planned out a first date ages ago,” He smiled. He’d taken a step closer to you. His arms had found themselves around your waist as he spoke. “We’d go down to the lake with a picnic and our sketchbooks and draw, I had a playlist ready with your favourite song, and when it would play, I’d offer to dance with you.”

“That is disgustingly cheesy,” You grinned, not a hint of spite in your voice. “How would you even know my favourite song?”

“Your Spotify is public and linked to your socials,” He shrugged.

“Stalker!” You gasped. Your tone was playful.

“I was genuinely so concerned that I almost went to check on you a few months ago because you’d been playing ‘Vending Machine of Love’ for 7 hours straight,” He teased. “I listened to it out of curiosity, and I have questions.”

“And I will not be providing answers!” You laughed, knowing the exact day that was as you’d been antagonising Wednesday with it all day after she’d accidentally hurt Enid’s feelings and was too stubborn to apologise for it. “Then what would we have done on the date?”

“After dancing our little hearts out, I would have kissed you for the first time,” He admitted, his cheeks reddening a little. “I guess I messed that part up? We could pretend we-” You cut him off when you pulled him into another kiss. It was slower this time, lasting a lot longer than the previous two. His lips moulded against your own as though they belonged together. It was a cheesy thought, one you’d never dare to admit out loud.

When you finally pulled away, you did so with a smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t stop myself from ruining your plans,” Your hand absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest. “Old habits die hard.”

“Guess we’d better make some new habits,” Xavier shrugged before he captured your lips in what would be one of many, many more kisses.

a/n - I am a total sucker for enemies to lovers and writing this was an absolute delight - I enjoyed writing it so even if people deem it trash, I am happy 😌💅

anygays! I've got a couple of xavier requests that I'm working on, but feel free to send me more for xavier or any other wednesday characters!

likes and reblogs very appreciated! lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future xavier x reader fics

@ali-r3n

#xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier oneshot #wednesday #wednesday oneshot

[songsofadelaide]

2006.

It's nearly the end of June but summer's relentless heat still beats over your head as you sighed and sank your teeth into the slightly softened Ramune-flavoured popsicle in your hand. Shoko handed it to you just moments ago before vanishing into the morgue once more.

Summer always meant more assignments and missions and the lack of your classmates' and upperclassmen's shadows in the campus. The second years just returned from a low-risk mission and bagged some snacks for everyone. It was a thoughtful gesture and surely something they mulled over for a bit before eventually deciding— yeah, let's take some home for the kids, too.

You were tasked with cleaning duty today, sweeping up dead leaves and twigs that littered the school entrance. The task required little thinking, and you could hardly do so with the afternoon sun roasting you right where you stood. You were ready to fight the sun at this point.

It hits you all of a sudden— a sharp, stinging pain in your head that sends a shiver down your spine as you hurriedly chewed the frozen treat in hand. "Ack—"

—Pins and needles in my brain— you thought, almost losing your balance, too. A larger hand landed on the small of your back as you tried to steady yourself. "Oh! Gojo-san!"

It was Satoru— tall, shining blue eyes and silver hair— standing right behind you. Your upperclassman greeted you with his easily recognisable cheer and a smile that could rival the sun itself. Only you didn't want to fight this sun.

You liked this sun.

"I heard from your chat with Shoko that you like Rilakkuma."

You did, but you were surprised he manage to take note of such a quick-passing mention in a conversation he wasn't even part of.

"I-I do," you confirmed with a small nod.

"Great. You don't suppose you can take these off my hands, then?"

He beckoned you to hold out a hand to him, which you did. He dipped a hand into his pants pocket and fished out a handful of colourful Rilakkuma stickers— Rilakkuma, Korilakkuma, Kiiroitori, and even Chairokoguma, all in their signature baby pink, mint green, and light yellow backgrounds.

"Ah! These are so cute! Thank you very much!"

Satoru noticed the little twinkle of delight in your eyes as you received the stickers, all of which came free with his favourite convenience store melonpan.

Worth it, he tells himself.

He'll never speak of these tender affections, though, out of fear of rejection. He is normally so sure of himself, but the possibility of you turning him down cripples him into dejection. But he'll never tell you that.

Much like how he'll never tell you about how he forced everyone around you to eat the melonpan and return the free stickers to him.

The heat of the afternoon is long forgotten, replaced by the amusement with these simple treasures. Why he decided to give these to you, you'll never know for certain.

Satoru couldn't possibly fancy you, that's for sure. He had an air of sophistication about him despite his supposed immaturity— plus, he's so handsome, so why would he even pay attention to a country bumpkin like me—

"If I find more, I'll give it to you, too," he said, your reverie disintegrating. Reality was much sweeter, though, with Satoru beaming at you so warmly you were sure you'd pass out from a heatstroke.

2018.

"Now this takes me back," you laughed to yourself as you happily opened the convenience store melonpan. It was among the many snacks that Satoru's pupils shared with you. The free sticker caught your eye— Oh, it's Aggretsuko!

"What a blast from the past that is," Shoko remarked as she sat across from you. "Gojo used to buy those for us all the time."

"Really?" How curious, you thought.

"Yeah. He'd collect all the stickers that came with it, too. I suppose it's no secret now since you guys are already together, after all."

"You mean to say that Satoru collected all of those for me?"

Huh. Now that you thought about it, Nanami and Haibara often snacked on melonpan when you were students.

"Are you only finding out now?" Shoko asked with a chuckle. An amused smile painted her lips as she picked out another melonpan from the bunch. "I suppose he'd want us to give you the stickers here, too."

So she gladly does, handing over the little sticker wrapped in glossy plastic as she munched on her snack.

"Thank you, Shoko."

You flashed her a smile of gratitude, the very same one that brought so much delight and satisfaction to Satoru that he'd eat melonpan after melonpan just so he could give you all the stickers he got from each one.

Satoru doesn't make his presence known anymore, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment of quiet for you and Shoko, but you hear the floor creak and quickly notice him standing outside the door left ajar by Yuuji.

"Satoru!" You beamed at him, beckoning him to eventually come into the room. "Welcome back!"

Still worth it, he thinks. Your smile is worth all that more.

And then he doesn't, finally emptying his mind as he crash-dives into your arms. "Back! Which one did you get this time?"

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #i love rilakkuma lol

[reminiscingtonight]

The Reveal

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Lucy finally returns in this last installment of the Setback prequels. I hope you guys have enjoyed the journey as much as I have writing it!

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks

[WOSO Masterlist]

Waking up to Leah will always be your favorite activity. You come to consciousness to tiny breaths puffed against your cheek, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Your legs are tangled together, the only evidence of what happened last night being the soreness in your body and the lack of clothes on both of you. 

You snuggle against Leah, letting yourself bask in her warmth before beginning the daunting task of untangling yourself. The defender’s clingier than most, never letting you leave the bed without a fight. Usually you would fold without much prompting and go cuddle with your favorite person, but today you have plans to make Leah breakfast in bed, and you’d be damned if you let her charm you out of it. 

“No! Don’t go,” Leah whines, coming to consciousness just to try to pull you back into bed with her.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” you whisper, secretly delighted that Leah still puts up this much of a fight even after a couple months into dating.

She mumbles something incoherent into her pillow but doesn’t let go of the death grip she has on your arm. 

“Leah,” you tsk out, happily giving her a kiss when she drags you down for another one. When she attempts to go from cute to sexy, however, you stop her right in her tracks. “Let me do something nice for you. Please?”

Leah gives you a blank look, hand pausing from where it’s attempting to trail down your body. When you give her your best puppy eyes, she sighs before letting you go. That’s the one trait the two of you share, never being able to say no to what the other wanted.

“Fine. Hurry back, I miss you already.” Leah’s pout almost gets you to break. Almost. 

Pressing a quick kiss against her lips, you quickly shrug on a hoodie and some underwear before slinking out into the kitchen.

Thankful for your pre-planning, you already have all the ingredients necessary to make breakfast. You pull them all out quickly, mentally ticking off your checklist. You’re ducking under your cabinet, trying to pull out a plate when you hear the distinct sound of keys in your locks.

You spin around just as your front door swings open. When you catch sight of brown hair in a familiar bun, you’re suddenly glad you threw on a hoodie to cover your state of undress before leaving your room.

“Luce! What are you doing here?” It’s hard to hide the panic in your voice, especially when you’re aware of the body in the next room. 

Lucy gives you a weird look, mistaking your panic for confusion. She drops a bag of muffins and some coffee onto your counter. “What, I can’t come visit my sister?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you shrug, hoping to play off your disarray. 

Lucy eyes all the food on the counter, taking note of the two plates, two cups, double of everything really. “The amount of food you’re preparing says otherwise.”

You blink owlishly, silently cursing your sister’s perceptive eyes. You could never get anything past Lucy when you were younger. Her BS detector has only seemed to improve as the two of you grew older. 

“Did I tell you I was coming over? Damn, I was really hoping to surprise you. Give you an early birthday gift since I’m in town right now and all.”

“What? No. No! I’m surprised, very surprised. You did a great job, totally didn’t see it coming or anything. When did you even get into town? I thought you had a game yesterday.” You’re really hoping your rambling has confused Lucy enough to forget about all the extra food you’re preparing, but in the end, none of your distractions are enough to stop Leah from joining the party.

“Baby, what’s all the nois--” Leah stops abruptly when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Your first step is to grimace. You’ve been thinking about the best way to break the news of your new girlfriend to Lucy for weeks now. Although you haven’t hid your relationship anywhere close to as long as Lucy did, you know that your sister would still be hurt that you hadn’t told her right away.

Lucy stiffens next to you and you’re trying to come up with the proper explanation when you notice what Leah’s dressed in. Or more plainly, how little she’s dressed in. All Leah’s got on is one of your flannels and a pair of boxers.

You bite your lip, not able to push down the sudden surge of attraction that arises when you catch sight of her abs, the low swells of her-- Leah seems to gather her lack of clothes at the same time. She quickly closes shut the flannel, hiding the excess skin she had on display. Leah’s face is a rosy hue, no doubt embarrassed to be caught in this state by your sister.

Speaking of which…

“Why is there a barely dressed Leah Williamson in your flat?” Lucy grits out, turning her glare towards you.

“Surprise. We’re… dating?” The way your voice raises at the end makes your statement sound more like a question.

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”

A tense silence settles over the three of you.

Leah fidgets uncomfortably under Lucy’s piercing eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder towards your bedroom, but stops the second your sister’s voice rings out.

“No, stay. Please. I’d like to see how you guys try to explain this away.” Lucy crosses her arms, staring pointedly between the two of you. 

“There’s nothing to ‘explain away’,” you frown, not liking what Lucy’s implying. “Leah’s my girlfriend and I’m hers. We’re dating.”

It’s not like it’s a secret. While you and Leah are keeping things on the downlow, most of your club teammates have already figured out that you and Leah are together. The great thing about not playing on the same team as your sister meant not sharing every second of your life with one another. You’re sure Lucy’s happy for the slight reprieve, after basically coddling you to your interests your entire life. 

You make your way around the counter, picking up a discarded sweatshirt on the way and handing it to Leah. Your girlfriend murmurs a quiet thanks, hurrying to pull on the piece of clothing. You can feel Lucy’s gaze burning into your back as you block Leah from Lucy’s view. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming,” you whisper, noting the way Leah’s eyes keep darting nervously behind you. 

“When did this happen?” Lucy’s voice interrupts the two of you before Leah can respond to you. 

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you turn around to face your sister again. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Her eyes narrow dangerously and you can feel Leah stiffen beside you. You’re used to Lucy being short with you, not that it happens often, but you understand why Leah’s more jumpy than usual. If you weren’t related to Lucy you would probably be quaking in your boots too.

But you are related to her. And you know exactly how to push Lucy’s buttons without the disastrous consequences that usually come when people challenge her.

You square your jaw, trying hard not to snap at Lucy. “You know Leah. You like Leah. There’s no need to give her the third degree.”

Lucy’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but you cut her off again before she can argue with you. 

“Leah makes me happy. Like really stupidly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time, okay? She treats me amazingly and dotes on me to the degree that it should be annoying but instead only makes me love her more. She’s wonderful in every way possible and most importantly, she loves me. So. Take all of that into account before you say whatever you’re going to say.”

Lucy blinks, not expecting such a long, thought out declaration. 

Leah also seems to be taken aback, mouth parted in surprise. It’s only when the silence drags on and no one says anything that you realize how raw your declaration was. The heat crawls up your neck and your fingers start nervously drumming on your thigh. 

Leah’s hand is quick to lace themselves with yours, stopping your nervous motion. She gives you a light squeeze, and you watch as Lucy’s eyes drop to your intertwined hands. 

It almost feels like a lifetime before Lucy says anything. When she does, you’re not sure if it’s supposed to make you feel better or not. 

“Okay. Well. You’re an adult so.” Lucy sighs, looking as if she’s about to get up and leave. 

From the corner of your eyes you can see a matching frown form on Leah’s face. 

“Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you think.”

And it’s true. You’ve always idolized your sister, wanting to do everything you could to impress her. Her perceptions on everything you do is always important to you. And while you’re ready to defend Leah to the moon and back, Lucy’s approval would only make you breathe a little easier. 

Lucy silently stares at the two of you, trying to weigh whether or not you’re being honest. The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her attention to Leah. “You really love (Y/N)?”

Leah nods, hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, I really do.”

Lucy looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she shrugs. “Okay, well that’s all I can really ask for.”

You want to let out the breath you’ve been holding in this entire time, but then Lucy actually does head for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

Lucy pauses, already slipping on one of her shoes. “Uh, well it’s clear I’m crashing your guy’s breakfast so I’m just going to--”

“You should stay!” Leah’s outburst takes all of you by surprise. A blush forms on her face as she throws out a mumbled, “Please.”

Lucy looks between the two of you, from Leah’s embarrassed face to your pleading one. You know you have her when Lucy takes one look at your puppy eyes and then mutters something in Portuguese to herself.

“Alright then, if you guys insist.”

Your smile is blinding as Lucy makes her way back to the kitchen. Leah passes you another cup that you quickly fill with coffee before sliding it to your sister. Lucy mumbles a quick thanks before handing out the muffins she brought this morning. 

“Maybe we should invite Keira next time,” Lucy hums under her breath as she takes a bite of her muffin. “Make this a proper double date. I’m sure she would love it.”

Lucy stops chewing when she notices the way Leah has stiffened up again. She turns her questioning gaze towards you, but you turn your eyes upwards, suddenly finding your ceiling very interesting. 

Lucy chokes. 

“Oh my god, you guys haven’t told Keira yet?!”

#leah williamson x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

[miseries-mistress]

TEMPTATION OF THE UNATTAINABLE | CAPTAIN REX

GIF by kamino-coruscant

Synopsis: You found yourself in the training room on one of your rare days off, not with your lightsaber or the Force but with a blaster. The unfamiliar black, sleek metal was heavy in your hands as if death itself weighed on the trigger. You didn't practice with such a weapon; too barbaric for your tastes, but after a comment Fives made, you wanted to prove him wrong. Blame it on your pride, but you were determined to land a hit on the droids, only, Rex finds you before you can do so. 

Warnings: female reader, innuendos, flirting, teasing, fluff. W/C: 1838

Notes: i've had this in my drafts for two months now, i finally finished it and edited it (repost)

star wars masterlist

"You know, I'm surprised the great general can't shoot a blaster." You lower the training blaster, looking over your shoulder at Rex entering the training room, his bucket tucked snugly under his arm, still in full armor.  

"Can it, Rex," you snap, and he only chuckles in reply. You turn away from him, adjusting your stance as you raise the blaster in steady hands. Anticipating recoil this time, you shoot. It nearly misses the center of the training droid's head, and you sigh. 

"You look like you're struggling over there," he comments half-heartedly, leaning against the durasteel wall. You spin on your heels, narrowing your eyes at the infamous captain. 

"Rex," you snarl in a warning he does not head but instead strokes your fury with bated breath.

"What? Need some help?" he taunts, and you have half a mind to give him a little push with the Force if it means silencing his snarky attitude that he seems to have only with you. Admittedly, you admire him to a point beyond the relationship of captain and general, but that attitude...you could do without it.

"You know the answer to that." There's that edge in your words, the threat behind them that Rex can't help but stroke. He doesn't know why your bite to every teasing remark riles him as much as it does, but it's addictive the way you push back, makes him feel alive, and he can't get enough of it. 

"I want to hear you say it."

"Sadistic piece of shit," you growl, glaring at him. 

"Now, that's no way to talk to your captain, especially since you are in such dire need of assistance." Dealing with Anakin's ego is better than this, you think sourly.

"You're an asshole."

"So I've been told."

You huff, rolling your eyes as you stare at his satisfied features. You muster up all the scraps of pride you have left, salvaging what you can before you give in. "Please help me, captain." 

His eyes sparkle with pride at his accomplishment. "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" 

"I hate you," you mutter defeatedly as he approaches you. You feel him behind you so close you can feel his force signature radiating off him like an aura of warmth as he takes his place at your back.

"No, you don't."

Kriff, has his voice always sounded so attractive? It was so smooth and oh-so delightful, you're sure you could never get enough of it.

"May I, general?" 

"Just call me by my name, captain, since we're past professionalism at this point," you reply sarcastically, and Rex fights off the temptation to grin, opting for a more teasing tone. 

"You as well." 

He steps forward, so his armored chest is pressed flush to your back, and the chill from the plastoid seeps into your Jedi robes. You can feel every divot and curve grating against your attire and pushing into your spine, sending an aching pressure through your body. 

His gloved hand slides over your waist, and you freeze at the contact, your body stiffening in his firm grasp. 

"This okay?" he asks, his tone mixed with mischief? Lust? You couldn't tell. His mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his warm breath fanning over the shell of it. 

Your mouth dries at his words, and you lick your lips, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "Y-yeah."

Rex takes your breathless voice as a sign to continue, silently relishing his ability to make you stutter because Maker knows how long he's waited for an opportunity or excuse like this to touch you. To render that pretty mouth of yours speechless, even if it's to help with your poor aim. 

His foot slides your feet to the side so they are parallel with your shoulders, and your mind wanders to where else he might spread your legs– Focus, you internally reprimand yourself for letting your thoughts descend into something so vulgar and indecent. You're a Jedi, for fucks sake, and even though you've long since abandoned the rule on attachment, it was entirely unprofessional for you to think of your captain this way. 

"Knees bent mesh'la," Rex instructs, his breath ghosting over the column of your neck before he pauses, his body growing taut. There are a couple of beats of silence where Rex can feel his heart hammering out of his chest. You don't react, at least not visibly, to the nickname, and he internally grumbles at his slip-up. He doesn't focus on it too much, considering you don't seem to understand the meaning of the word, but he chastises himself for his lack of restraint for letting something as crucial as that slip from his typically tight lips.  

You chose not to say anything about his sudden discomfort despite your curiosity but instead concentrate on his nickname. Mesh'la. It ran off his tongue like honey, sweet with a hint of something more. It obviously was Mando'a; as far as you knew, every clone spoke a bit of it. However, you never imagined it would be spoken to you, especially by the man you so readily esteem, so what did it mean?

"Oh, right, sorry," you trip over your words as you bend your knees to his will. You feel Rex's arm leave your waist as he shadows you, enveloping his body impossibly closer to yours. His gloved hand runs over your skin, working out the rifle's position to the target droids. He's focused. You can tell that much by how his hands remain steady and focused like he is in his nature. 

It's the familiarity of the weapon, the ease of it, that helps distract Rex from how close he is to you. Every movement he's made in the last five minutes has been driven by the singular purpose of being closer to you, and there was no way in karking hell that Rex would fumble and let this prime opportunity slip away from him. No way in hell.

"Right there, grip it a little tighter, atta girl." You swallow the growing lump in your throat as a shiver runs down the length of your spine at the utter husk in his voice. It's a low, seductive rumble, so chilling yet inviting, as his lips hover a hair's breadth away from your neck, where your pulse is frantically thundering under your skin. You try, you really do, to push out the thoughts of his soft lips caressing your skin in a gentle kiss, peppering your flesh with his devotion. Instead, you feel your face seethe with heat that engulfs your cheeks and rises all the way to the tips of your ears. Shyness is now muddled with arousal, rendering you unable to form a single strand of thoughts to combat your mounting embarrassment. You can almost feel the stupid smug smirk on his lips as his hands tighten their hold on your waist.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Bastard. Stupid bastard knows what he's doing to you, yet his advances won't push past the edge of flirtation. No matter how much his mocking remarks and smug rejoinders irk you, you want him– need him- to take a leap off the edge. It's something you yearn for down to your very being for him to cross that path of no return. Relinquishing your friendship would either be the end of it or the start of something new. The risk was high, it always was, but one of you had to make a choice, walk away or pursue the tension rising like a raging storm through your love-struck heart. 

You are desperate from the hope he provides you that all of his teasing amounts to something, that he is not playing with your emotions in a game of his ego. It's not in Rex's nature to be so misleading, which inclines you to believe he does share that same sentiment as you, but what do you know when it comes to romance? Your entire life has been spent in a temple with people who would rather die than form an attachment forbidden by the code. You know nothing about your feelings besides how to hide them.

"Shut it, Rex," you grumble, and he chuckles, the sound gravelly and enticing to your lust-plagued mind. His hand scours over your hips, his deft fingers running over the area in a teasing motion. Yet, for all the concentration you render as a Jedi, it proves fruitless. Rex notices your slight tremble and eases you with a gentle whisper, "don't be so nervous."

How are you not supposed to be nervous when he's flirting with repreive? 

"Now, see your target?" You force yourself to nod, not trusting your lips to form intelligible words. He moves slightly to your side, removing his right hand from yours. It appears that he forgoes his teasing for instruction, now focused on what he was initially set out to do, but the way he grasps your hips, pulling them back ever so slightly into his cod-piece, you are inclined to believe otherwise.  

"Finger on the trigger," he orders, and your body obeys before you have time to think, waiting for your captain's following directive. "There 'ya go. Whenever you're ready."

There's a second of hesitation while you gather your thoughts before you pull the trigger. Rex is luckily behind you and holds you steady at the minuscule jerk the gun gives off. The blast bolt pierces the target, black scarring around the marred hole made on the bullseye. You look back at Rex to find him already staring at you with a brazen simper, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"You did good, sweetheart, for a Jedi." You huff and shake your head, taking a last look at your shot before back at him. His arrogance begins to fade into something genuine, and it's impossible to tear your eyes away from his; to let go of the shift in the Force between you two. 

Neither of you cared to address the atmosphere you had created in that short instance, and for right now, you don't wish to sour the mood with the taste of reality. Yet, nothing felt as perfect as staring into those bright amber eyes, reflecting a future you could only crave.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex fic #captain rex fluff #captain rex #captian rex #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x y/n #rex x reader #star wars #star wars clone wars #rex clone wars #clone wars rex #clone wars 501st #star wars prequels

[gyllenhaalstories]

DON'T LET THE GRINCH STEAL CHRISTMAS — TOMMY CAHILL 🎄

summary: not even a christmas miracle can save a familly dinner with the cahills from turning into a debacle.

warnings: i'm quoting a scene from the movie but i'm taking creative liberties, food & eating, curse words, family feud, smut (quickie, semi public sex, pussy eating & fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2440

photo credits: me (@/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/saradika & @/saradika-graphics

notes: ending a second year with a tommy fic just felt right. ❤️💚 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"This food is great, Elsie. Thank you." Tommy broke the awkward silence that loomed over the dinner table. Despite the smaller plate full of discarded peas in front of him, he still enjoyed the homemade dinner offered to him.

You opened your mouth to thank the older woman, too, for being such a lovely host but you were cut off by a wave of arrogance and bitterness that washed over your side of the table.

"Compared to what?" Hank Cahill huffed mockingly.

You helped Tommy's youngest niece and silently prayed that this would not degenerate for the sake of the kids. But of course it would. It was not a proper dinner at the Cahills if it did not end up in a screaming match. "Let it go." You leaned closer to your boyfriend to whisper those words, but your attempt at calming him down was, rightfully, vain.

Tommy dropped his fork on his plate and threw his hands up, shrugging. "Other food." He sounded defeated, knowing he already lost the fight that had barely started.

"Prison food?" His father retorted.

Tommy was a ticking time bomb around his family. Again, rightfully so. Hank just loved to handle his oldest son like a grenade, throwing him in a ditch once he started the explosion so he would not have to take the blame for the collateral damage. Tommy slammed his closed fist on the table.

"Tommy!" Sam called out his name, so quick to protect his father.

And, just as quickly, Tommy shut up. He reached his arm in front of you so he could reach to the other side, trying to reassure Maggie.

You could feel that he was fuming and he tried to hold it in so things would settle down. Instead, Hank mumbled into his plate and ate a spoonful of green peas.

Unable to handle the tension, Tommy promptly sprang to his feet and walked away to hide in the bathroom.

Nobody ever stood up for Tommy. Elsie would excuse herself to the kitchen. Grace would focus on her daughters. Sam would watch with his mind lost elsewhere and, mostly, without a care for the way his father treated his brother. Nobody truly ever ever stood up for Tommy except you. If Hank took a certain malevolent delight in being mean to his son, you took just as much pleasure in calling him out for it.

You stood up just as promptly as Tommy did and threw your napkin on the table. "With all due respect, mister Cahill..."

That sentence always succeeded in putting an angry smirk on the elderly man's face. He knew you had little to no respect for him, which was exactly what he deserved.

You looked at Maggie and Isabelle, bringing your hands to your ears so they would imitate you. They giggled as they pretended to hum a little sing-song to cover up the sound of your potty mouth. "You have no room to talk as the poor excuse of a father that you are." You took advantage of the fact Tommy was out of the room to lay the truth before his father. He would not allow it otherwise. "Tommy appreciates the hard work your wife did to prepare us a lovely Christmas dinner more than you ever could. He sure as hell didn't learn thankfulness from you and you should be glad he didn't learn how to be an asshole like you 'cause that's all you know how to teach."

Isabelle and Maggie uncovered their ears and resumed to eating and talking to each other. It broke your heart a to witness just how used they had gotten to this dysfunctional family.

You pushed your chair behind you and walked around the table. You stood by the head of it and, on the other side, there was Sam standing up and looking at you with a hint of disdain, but mostly surprise. Even he could not stand up to Hank in such a way. All the bravery and courage and praise about how he was so strong for serving his country so proudly turned into dust when it came to facing a bad guy such as his father. You held his gaze for a few seconds before you huffed, in the same manner as Hank did earlier. "So much for being a hero." You looked at both Sam and Hank one last time before you made a beeline to the bathroom.

*~*~*

You closed the door behind you and took a moment to assess the scene.

Tommy was pacing back and forth in the small bathroom. He looked tense but his demeanour softened when he locked eyes with you. He shrugged, silently apologizing.

"They'll be fine." You reassured him, easily guessing that he worried about his nieces. "You'll be fine too." Your hand reached to his cheek that you stroked lovingly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tommy nodded, pressing his lips together. He kissed your forehead and lingered, as if he was charging his batteries up and as if they were fuelled by the sweet scent of your perfume and the warmth that emanated from you and comforted him effortlessly. "It's just that—"

You shushed him with a peck on his lips. "Let's forget about it for now, alright?" You were met with a frown and a quizzical gaze. "They're gonna keep on being annoying. They're your family, it's what they do best." He agreed with a shrug. "Your father has already ruined so many things for you. Don't let that angry old man ruin Christmas."

You heard a faint chuckle coming from Tommy. "Like the Grinch?"

You laughed along with him. "Exactly like the Grinch."

He leaned forward for a kiss. He inhaled your scent again and further calmed down. He pulled back with a grin on his face. "I thought it was good that I talked about my feelings?"

"It is!" You defended yourself quickly. It was something you put a lot of emphasis on, to help Tommy better himself like he wanted. All that pent-up anger would lead nowhere if he followed the example of his brother and father. "I'm proud of you for working on that and talking about how you feel with me. You're doing so good at talking."

He mouthed the words 'thank you' but he frowned again while you caressed his arms up and down, the sleeves of his shirt awkwardly following your movements. It took a few seconds, but he caught on. "Let me guess..."

"Enough talking for now." You moved in closer and whispered at his ear. His family made enough noise to cover whatever sounds the two of you could make. You both knew it, it was not the first time you sneaked away from them. "But..." He squinted at you. "It's not a crime to find your boyfriend hot when he's lashing out at other people, right?"

He shook his head, telling you that it was not a crime either for him to think what you did earlier was even hotter. "Yeah, enough talking for now." Tommy smirked and pressed a kiss on your lips, a kiss that got deep and rough in no time. The mood shift was very much welcome.

Your hands caressed their way up to the collar of his shirt, clinging onto it. You kept making out, only taking quick breaks to catch your breath.

Meanwhile, Tommy's hands moved down to your ass and gave it a hard squeeze. He guided you towards the vanity so you could lean on the counter, not once did his lips leave yours. Instead, his tongue invaded your mouth and he swallowed your moans.

You held his face in your hands for a moment or two, enjoying the kiss to the fullest before you moved on to something else.

He pulled his head back when he felt your hand now in his short hair. Tommy smirked and, without any resistance, he let you push down on him until he got on his knees.

"You look so pretty down there." You murmured.

You thought he was too distracted to hear you by the way he hungrily peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs, but the words you spoke sent a wave of pleasure down to his cock. That's not what he wanted to focus on right now.

The main focus was you and the soft whimpers you let out when he kissed your pussy over your panties. You were glad Tommy convinced you to wear a skirt for Christmas dinner.

He grunted, displeased by how his brain reminded he did not have the luxury to take his time. He pushed your panties to the side and held the fabric out of the way with his thumb as the rest of his hand pushed your leg open for him. He buried his tongue between your folds and let out a moan louder than yours.

You covered your mouth with one hand and bunched your skirt up with the other.

Tommy’s tongue lapped at your pussy, closing his eyes blissfully at the taste of you.

You started to move your hips, disregarding the uncomfortable counter that rubbed against your ass. You humped Tommy’s face and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his nose bumped on your clit, and as his tongue teased your entrance.

With his spit and your wetness, it was like your body was begging for him to fuck you. You had to wait for that, and he was already getting impatient. He pushed his middle finger inside of you and sucked on your clit, that was as close as he would get to feeling you wrapped around him.

Luckily for you, the Christmas music coming from the living room kept your activities safe between Tommy and you. There was no way your moans, and Tommy’s, could be heard.

But, to be even more careful, Tommy’s hand on your thigh gave it a squeeze. He flicked his tongue on your clit just how you liked it, pumping his finger in and out of you quite fast.

You abandoned your skirt to put your hand on his head and hold him in place. It was the most subtle way you could think of telling him that he felt so fucking good.

And he knew it. He pulled away for a short moment, just long enough to catch his breath and to give you one of his cocky smirks. His beard was glistening, his lips were wet and his eyes were dark with lust.

You barely had enough time to admire this beautiful sight that he was back at it. His beard burned on your sensitive skin, but, in the heat of the moment, it felt too good to stop. He was making your head fall back in pleasure as you felt the familiar tension of your orgasm approach.

Tommy's finger curled up inside you, finding that sweet spot that made you whimper. His tongue met with your clit and this time, he was not stopping. He was not stopping even if you tried so had to close your legs around him. He was not stopping even if you tried to control the pace with your hand on his head. He wanted, and needed, you to cum and he knew just how much you needed it too.

"Oh, fuck!" You moaned out, immediately biting on your finger to prevent another slip up. You wanted to tell him so badly how close you were, but it was pointless.

He already knew. He sucked on your clit and pumped his middle finger in your wet pussy a few more times until he felt your walls clench tight around him. Tommy fought against your body, just carrying you over the edge until he was convinced you could no longer take it.

Your vision was blurry aside from the little stars that were spinning around Tommy's head when you looked down. You forgot how to breathe, how to move even, until Tommy slowly slid his finger out of you and let you come back to your senses.

The sloppy kiss you shared after that was heavenly. You could taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, and it only got the two of you even more eager for what would happen the second you were left actually alone.

Tommy adjusted your panties back in their place and flattened your skirt, or, well, he tried to. You looked rough and so did he with his face shiny from your wetness.

You kissed him again, quickly, before you turned the faucet on and helped him wash himself clean as best as you could get it. While the water was running, you moved closer to his ear and asked a rather important question. "So, what's the escape plan?"

Tommy's eyes widened. Right. You guys needed a plan. It was not the first time you sneaked away like that, but he always forgot how awkward it could be. "Can you fake a tummy ache?"

"You're so clever." You chuckled and patted his face dry with a tissues.

The two of you took deep breaths and tried to darken your expression, although it was hard to shake off the pure pleasure you had experienced.

They were surprisingly gullible and believed in your lame excuse, at the exception of Maggie who whispered to her sister that you were one of Santa's elves and uncle Tommy had to drive you to the toy factory. They were so caught up in their conspiracy theory that they barely let you out without a hug, but they rushed to the front door for a kiss goodbye.

Hank looked at his son disapprovingly, Elsie promised to save slices of pie and cake to be picked up when you felt better. Grace smiled and focused her attention back on her kids and her husband.

You got out of there as if nothing happened. As if there had not been a huge fight, as if that same fight had not been resolved by Tommy devouring your pussy like it was his last meal.

A last meal that needed to be followed by dessert, Tommy's hand that was on your thigh while he drove his truck home reminded you of the rest of your evening plans. You watched him drive and you played the game of whether he could be patient enough to wait for you two to be home or if he would give up halfway and take you in the back of his pick-up.

Judging by the way Tommy was smiling and beaming, one thing was for sure: the Grinch was not successful in stealing Christmas this year.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #tommy cahill smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x reader #tommy cahill

[otsanda]

I was reading this great meta by @fuckyeahisawthat about Aziraphale and Crowley metaphorically switching places— from Crowley being the giver of Knowledge and the freedom of choice to humanity and Aziraphale being the protector, by giving humans the flaming sword to Crowley being the protector of humanity and Aziraphale granting knowledge and freedom of choice.

But this made something click into place for me that I’d been turning over in my mind for a while: what if it’s not just freedom and knowledge and choice for humanity… what if Aziraphale functionally brings freedom and choice and knowledge to everyone!

I mean, one thing I haven’t really seen anyone talking about is the contrast between the portrayal of angels and demons (generally) in S1 and specific angels and demons in S2. The first season really set Heaven and Hell up as full of a lot of characters who had their own quirks and unique aspects, but still functioned very well as cogs in the same type of machine.

Gabriel and Beelzebub are the most obvious examples, since they had the biggest pivot in S2: suddenly it’s not just Aziraphale and Crowley who are the special ones.

We get to see these two other characters have thoughts and desires and aspirations beyond that of following their angelic/demonic natures or furthering the cause of their respective sides. S2 really humanizes both of these characters who were (in S1) the best real example that we saw of an official representative of the corporate goings-on from each side. God and Satan were there in S1, but in a much less visible way (and even LESS visible in S2).

But even beyond Beez and Gabe, S2 took careful steps to humanize a lot of other ethereal/occult characters as well. We see Michael both confident and shaken, sarcastic and unsure. Strong, but with aspirations to go Higher. Uriel pushes back, questions authority, and asks for reassurance that they’ve not done something wrong. Side note: I really hope we get to see more Uriel development bc Uriel has so much interesting potential to me.

Muriel wasn’t in S1, but is an obvious parallel for early Aziraphale and we see a lot of similarities between them (their enthusiasm and delight at experiencing Earth, being believed when attempting a particular human job, enjoying books, etc).

Even the demons we see aren’t a monolith. Shax feels quite different from the classic evil demons we’ve met before. Furfur and Eric too. Although they’re doing demon stuff, none of these demons act all that demonic. We see even more hints at them struggling and learning and growing. Being… more human.

Heck, even the demon with the scary mouth in E4, Astoreth, was just doing his job.

So then what if the end of S2 is establishing Crowley as the defender of Humanity while positioning Aziraphale to share knowledge and the freedom of choice in heaven. If the ‘big battle’ that Crowley mentioned at the end of S1 is between Humanity and whoever is representing Heaven or Hell, maybe it’s time to give more ethereal and occult beings the opportunity to choose their own place in that fight.

Because I think that Crowley is right that Heaven and Hell are toxic. And Aziraphale is right that they both can do good. And separating the two of them, as painful as it is to watch, could give Aziraphale the space to see glimpses of humanity in the other angels (and even demons?) while positioned in Heaven. And it could give Crowley... probably trust issues, actually. I guess let's put a pin in that part.

But come Season 3, I would love to see Crowley and Aziraphale positioned on opposite sides of the war to end all wars, Aziraphale representing Heaven (and Hell?) and Crowley alongside Humanity. But before anything truly awful happens, they do what they always do.

They’ll come up with a plan. And they'll rescue one another and themselves.

And everything else and everyone else will fall into place around them.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 meta #good omens analysis #I've been writing this on and off for over 2 months now #please let these two fools do something right #also haven't been as active in the gomens fandom so forgive me if someone else has already said this #I've been busy helping run a renewal campaign #RIP

[bluerose5]

Hmm how about Halsin and Iron Bull (in whatever relationship dynamic you like!) commiserating after a fight with some goblins?

The kind of ship that snuck up on me out of nowhere. These two 100% took control of the fic and made it longer than what I intended, although I'm not complaining. 😌

...

One thing the Iron Bull never expected was for Halsin to admit to being a lightweight of all things.

While the tieflings' party was in full swing, he made his rounds throughout camp, took note of where everyone else's minds were at, his companions' especially, and he drank.

That was, until Bull realized the liquor on hand was some of the weakest shit compared to back home.

Still, it was a celebration, so he accepted drinks when offered, disgruntled by the fact that he was barely breaking a sweat over it.

Sobriety aside, he waited to speak with Halsin last, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what to make of him yet.

For one, he was big. Probably a little shorter than your average Qunari, but bigger than any elf Bull encountered in Thedas at least.

Secondly, he wielded magic different from most that Bull was familiar with, and the fact that majority of spellcasters in Faerûn didn't have to struggle against demons and possession in order to control their power...

Strange. Reassuring in a sense, but very strange.

When all was said and done, Bull figured no harm could come from getting to know the newcomer. This esteemed, knowledgeable "Archdruid" of theirs.

Who happened to be easy on the eyes —well, eye, singular— as well, but that was neither here nor there.

The Iron Bull sauntered up to him with a friendly smile, his head held high in a show of confidence.

"Well, it looks like I saved the best for last!" Bull greeted. "Settling in okay?" Before Halsin could answer, Bull interrupted. "Wait! Wait." He gave a dramatic pause. "I couldn't bear it if you said 'no.' Haha!"

He beamed at Halsin, who couldn't resist a snort of amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

Bull could practically hear Krem grumbling from there.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am settling in just fine," Halsin assured him. "Of course, it always helps to have a host as gracious as yourself."

"Let's see if you still think that by the end of the night," the Iron Bull joked. He stood at Halsin's side, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Seriously, though, that fight at that temple was great, yeah?" His heart raced at the memory. He leaned in, his voice low, appreciative. "You were incredible."

"Oh, come now," Halsin said, brushing off the compliment. "I don't know about that. You and your companions did most of the heavy lifting, after all."

"Don't downplay your role in our victory," Bull told him. "The sheer amount of goblins alone would have proved a challenge for anyone, but you cut through them like it was nothing." Try as he may, Bull couldn't help it, his eye trailing up and down Halsin's body. "All of that fury and rage, unleashed, directed at our enemies. You were a sight to behold, but tell the truth. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Halsin glanced at him, not even bothering to hide how his eyes raked over his frame in return.

"Perhaps," he allowed, taking a second to clear his throat. "I must admit, I have come to expect at least a hint of fear from outsiders in response to my wild shape."

"Heh," Bull chuckled. "I fought dragons before, pal. It's gonna take more than a big teddy bear like you to scare me away."

"Is that so?" Halsin raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the area around them. "Maybe I should work on that then. Everyone should maintain a healthy balance of fear and respect for nature."

"Trust me, I respect it plenty," Bull said, "but by all means, do your worst."

Halsin shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Tempting as that is, you surely have others to go mingle with. Don't let me keep you."

"Nah." Bull waved off that concern without second thought. "I've done more than my fair share of mingling for tonight. I want to get to know you better."

He gave him a playful poke to the arm.

"Hmm..." Halsin hummed in contemplation. "I wouldn't want to be selfish and rob others here of your company. I can wait until morning to speak with you at the very least."

"Which is fine, if that's what you want," the Iron Bull whispered, "but what if I want you to be selfish?"

Halsin searched his expression for any sign of deceit.

When such scrutiny proved fruitless, his entire demeanor shifted, more open to the idea compared to before.

"In that case," he responded, "will you tell me about one of your dragon hunts then?"

"Fuck yeah, I will!" Bull exclaimed, his excitement radiant like a flame.

He clasped a hand onto Halsin's shoulder, giving it a warm, companionable squeeze.

A small shiver shot down his spine, one that Bull was quick to watch with keen interest.

The Iron Bull reckoned that Halsin didn't know many people who towered over him. It was almost funny how often his gaze would level with Bull's pecs or wander farther below before darting up to his face yet again, as if he had to constantly remind himself that he was the shorter one for once.

Then again, maybe he just liked the sight of his chest. Bull couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's see. Let's see," Bull said, rubbing at his chin while he thought it over. "I could go simple. The first dragon I ever hunted alongside the Inquisitor was terrorizing the countryside we were in at the time. It was a Fereldan Frostback."

Already, his eye was glazing over at the tale, his voice taking on a tinge of admiration that bordered on reverence. Or as close to it as he could get.

"Extremely territorial, those ones, and damn if she wasn't a beauty. All of that raw, untamed power, but unfortunately for her, her territory happened to include a few defenseless villages that couldn't ward her off on their own. That's where we came in."

He wrapped his arm around Halsin's shoulders, drawing him in closer as he spoke, staring off towards a faraway land that was well beyond their reach for now.

"That sharp burst of air that rushed past as she swiped her tail at us. That loud ringing in our ears when she screeched at the skies. That molten heat that radiated in the air when she snapped her teeth at us, so close that we would have been her next meal, had we not rolled out of reach in time."

He bared his teeth into a grin.

"That was a good day," he all but growled. "A good day, indeed!"

Halsin shifted in place. Of course, it didn't escape Bull's notice how he eased closer to him in the process.

He stared at the Iron Bull with a mixture of heat and shock.

"You almost sound excited," he said, hesitant, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Not that it deterred Bull in the slightest.

"That's because I am," Bull stated, unashamed. "Even now, something about it gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, more so than any other fight." He grunted loudly as he lingered on the memory. "Maybe it's in my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah," he said, "rumor has it that there might have been some dragon's blood mixed into the Qunari's somewhere along the way." He shrugged. "No one knows for certain. Would be pretty badass, though, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?" Halsin questioned.

"To share. Come on," Bull encouraged. "You can't tell me that you don't have some wild stories stashed away."

"Well," Halsin launched into his tale without missing a beat, "it's not too different from yours. Back in my youth—"

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Bull interrupted. "You're not that old."

"I'll have you know that I am three hundred and fifty years young."

"Hot."

Bull smirked when that got a laugh out of him.

"I can admire anyone who is so open with their desires," Halsin said, "but shall I continue the story?"

"Oh, alright, I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that," Halsin teased, "but as I was saying, I was young and impulsive at the time, traveling and exploring the world to my heart's content. After indulging in nature's gifts on land for so long, life led me to the sea. Throughout my journey, I heard about a string of pirate attacks, led by a rogue band of water genasi. Their greed had already impacted several coastal villages by the time I caught wind of it."

Bull made a mental note to ask more about the race later, too intent on listening to the current story to venture off on another tangent.

"People were being taken from their homes, everyone from their children to the elderly. Those who relied heavily on fish as a staple found themselves on the brink of starvation. Resources were being drained. Their valuables were looted. Any who fought against the genasi were executed or enslaved, made an example of."

"But you stopped them?"

"Eventually," Halsin sighed, it obviously taking a toll on him that he couldn't save more than what he did. "I studied their movements, their tactics. At first, I would rally others behind me, wait until the genasi tried for an ambush, and attack then. But there were still too many deaths for my liking, so I went on the offensive. The locals provided me with a vessel of my own, and I sailed out into the open waters. I took the fight to them, grew more and more cocky with each ship I took down. I believed myself to be invincible, and that made me reckless."

"What happened next?" Bull asked, although he already had an idea.

"You clearly survived, though."

"I was taken prisoner. One of my attacks went exactly as I planned, but I didn't know that the genasi had others lying in wait, holding back until they saw the perfect opportunity to strike. They outnumbered me, enough so that they were able to overpower me, and that was that."

"That, I did. With me as their trophy, the band that captured me left the coastland for quite some time. About a year and a half passed, give or take a few months, but I forced myself to be patient throughout that time of servitude, difficult as it was. I earned the trust of the crew. And later, the captain.

"Then one day, I felt it. There was something stirring in the water, restless, massive in size. I could sense it, and part of me knew that it was my time to act.

"I convinced the crew that there was treasure, worthy of the gods, in some nearby wreckage. I made up a lie, said I recalled the area from my studies, and they believed me."

"You led them right into a trap," Bull said, impressed.

Halsin nodded.

"It was a kraken's territory," he explained. "A sea monster of great power and might. It rose up from its dark depths to confront us. The waters turned rough and formed a large, gaping vortex that threatened to consume us all. The winds whipped at blinding speeds. Storms formed that spewed lightning everywhere you looked. The kraken even managed to charm some of the crew into fighting under its thrall, so you can imagine how everything turned into a bloodbath from there."

"Damn." Bull released a low whistle, recalling a few stories he heard of dreadnoughts encountering an aban-ataashi —a sea dragon— while out on their patrols.

He imagined this creature must have been similar to cause so much destruction.

"Nothing against you or your skills, but I'm surprised you survived."

"You and me both," Halsin agreed. "I was so weak that I couldn't switch forms all that much at the time, but I managed to rely on some basic spells to keep me safe long enough to escape. I fought alongside the crew for a while to discourage any suspicion, but I stole one of the ship's work boats the second it was clear that the crew and the kraken were going to go down destroying each other. Through the gods' mercy alone, I managed to make it out of there. I watched both ship and kraken sink into the sea from afar, and I somehow survived until I found land once again."

"Okay, now that story deserves a drink," Bull said. "Or several. Care to share one with me?"

"In truth, I rarely imbibe," Halsin answered. "The stuff goes right to my head."

The sounds of the party returned to them then. Voices rose and fell. Squeals of delight and the clink of tankards greeted their ears.

People danced and swayed, stumbling around without a care in the world.

"Wait, really?" Bull asked, incredulous. "You're telling me that you can't hold your liquor?"

Somehow, that was even more unbelievable than him fighting a kraken.

Halsin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that it won't take long before I'm breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I lay eyes on."

"Well, I mean, if you need a target to focus that energy on..." Squeezing him up against his side, Bull flexed his free arm, waggling his eyebrows at him. "I'm your guy."

"A tempting offer, I'll admit," Halsin said, admiring him openly.

"Plus, I've also been known to break into song here and there."

"Now, that, I have to see."

"Find me something stronger than the swill they serve around here," Bull challenged, "and you're on."

"Ah." As understanding dawned on him, Halsin flashed Bull a secretive smirk. "You thought that I meant that I can't handle the spirits such as those at this party." At Bull's confused look, Halsin clarified. "I keep a, uh, personal flask on hand for special occasions."

"No shit," Bull said, watching him closely, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "You have your own recipe or what?"

"Something like that, and I have my pipe on me too, if you're interested."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go make a little music, yeah?"

Amused, Halsin readily agreed.

They didn't even try to hide it as they ditched the party in favor of the surrounding forests, neither of them the type to sneak about in such a manner anyways.

They spent the rest of the night in high spirits under the stars, drinking, smoking, trading stories. And yes, singing rather terribly as well.

They fell asleep bathed in moonlight, and only when the rising sun bid them to wake did they return to camp together to discuss their next move.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dragon age #dai #halsin #the iron bull #the iron bull x halsin #halsin x the iron bull #ironbear #bluerose answers #bluerose writes #crossover

[tonguetiedraven]

Season Three Episode One Thoughts

-Starting in the classroom is a brilliant idea. It gives a good reason for Rin to be reading, makes it clear we're out of summer break, and leads perfectly into Godaiin and doesn't make them have to set up a friendship for those two. We just dive in.

-The Kyoto's trio intro was perfect and the letter was entirely the way I wanted it to look, over the top reactions and all.

-I'm glad we didn't have to see the Amaimon brutalization of Rin. That would have been a bit rough for the first episode back and not having it will make some of the coming violence and gore with the zombies and lab more intense.

-Mephisto's clothes and room made my eyes bleed. Perfect. No notes. Everything is exactly as it should be.

-Liked the color sap of Gehenna and that they used the cgi heads to connect that to the gate for people who don't know about the manga and don't know that's Gehenna.

-The portraits fight was fantastic and I like that they had the same demons in there be the one that attacked Sei earlier. It makes it feel like there was a reason they were doing that mission and is a great setup to allow them to do the mysteries in any order they want. I wouldn't be at all surprised to see some of the others pop up later. The bathroom ghost is perfect for closer to the festival with that stuff.

-I like how they didn't spend a lot of time on Yukio withdrawing. They had Rin and Shura both point it out in different ways, and it's a good setup for the stuff later.

-Kuro napping on the table gives me so much joy.

-Hair clip. Just Hair clip.

-The outside eating lunch scene was everything I wanted. All of them hanging out and chatting and Izumo being entirely embarrassed and everyone looking at Rin after the demon shout xD

-The ending with Godaiin taking a moment to show him actively thinking about what demons really are and halflings, and how those drops might change how he sees Rin and whether he should use them and that leading directly to the rest of the group waiting on him and teasing him and wanting him to come for food.

-Mephisto echoing the opening narration with a more cryptic twist.

-The credit shot of the girl's bathroom. The ghost? Or just a nod for us?

All in all, I'm impressed they got that much and they set up so much for later. I really thought they were going to skip all the mysteries and I'm delighted they gave us Konekomaru's moments because honestly, the Illuminati arc and the portrait fight are both huge for him, and he doesn't have an arc of his own and rarely gets the spotlight.

I like the animation and think the palette and style suits Izumo and Shima quite well. I like the strong focus for friendship in the start and the questions about demons and humans they're setting up for later on in this arc. I am very hopeful and I've heard the Japan fans who got to see the first three episodes said the pacing gets better, so I am ecstatic.

It still doesn't quite feel real that we got it after all this time xD It's more than I ever expected and I'm on cloud nine.

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #blue exorcist season 3

[t0ast-ghost]

S2 episode 22 (By Any Other Name) I changed the opening for this one because I left myself the note of “That wasn’t funny pls change it”

Well that’s what you get now:

- Those redshirts are gonna die so fast

- This guy knows what he wants. Too bad it’s the ship…

- McCoy and Spock are frozen arguing

- “Try to escape or disobey and you will be severely punished.” Welp.. we know what’s gonna happen now, don’t we.

- Oh so they just want a way home.. nope they’re conquerors

- Oh neat, they’re not supposed to be in skin

- McCoy and Kirk ready to go out and break stuff and Spock supporting it but also like “You don’t know what the fuck you’re looking for.”

- Spock get mind exploded

- ahem. What.

- THEYRE HOLDING SPOCK (McCoy I see that hand around his waist)

- Oh my god they’re gonna kill both of the redshirts in one go

- You know those satisfying videos…

- fucking hell

- “Spock are you sure you’re alright?” McCoy is worried

- THEY HAVE TENTACLES?!? THEYRE TENTACLE MONSTERS?!??!!

- Kirk touching Spock’s shoulders again

- Spock opens his eyes in sick bay and McCoy’s like “not fucking yet”

- Chapel is full on thinking, “you sneaky bastards.”

- Shakespeare reference

- Kirk distracting the guard in the background is so funny. Great choice to just have him there with no sound

- Scotty with his finger RIGHT over the button. Goddamn this man wants to press the shiny button (no he doesn’t)

- I’d love a stim toy that’s just a bunch of the ship control buttons, but like those exact colours

- Kirk chair swivel (I’m so glad his chair can swivel, it’s something Picard misses out on)

- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM UHURA. NO! They got Uhura and Chekov!

- Kirk is losing all of his friends/found family. This is hell. Who wrote this.

- oh my god, an honest Bones and Kirk fight, this is.. not good

- “Assist me.” “You’re idea doctor, go ahead.” Kirk is still mad and so is Bones but I wouldn’t let him near one of those guys

- “It’s quite good.” “I’m delighted😒” Bones knows how to sass

- “oh, you are trying to seduce me.” Kirk: 😨

- Scotty: Drinking. McCoy: Drugs. Kirk: Sex. Spock: …Chess

- McCoy smiles at one of the Kelvan’s correcting him… it’s like having a bunch of Spock’s on board

- Spock pats McCoy’s shoulder

- Scotty’s mission accomplished unsuccessfully

- Kirk gets THROWN

- Kirk getting caught by Spock and McCoy and then immediately saying, “I’m stimulating him.” Wild

- McCoy and Spock just watching their boyfriend beat up/choke out a guy

- WOW! That worked 😃👍

Ending that with a McCoy bounce :)))

Masterpost

Episode written by D. C. Fontana and Jerome Bixby

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #tos spock #leonard bones mccoy #tos bones #tos mccoy #captain james kirk #tos kirk #montgomery scott #tos scotty #pavel chekov #tos chekov #nyota uhura #tos uhura

[jazzfordshire]

I'm back with more viking au questions, because I'm a bit excited. Is it a one shot? Planning on both being Scandinavian? Where is it set?

It's likely a multichapter, and Kara is Scandanavian but Lena is Anglo-Saxon. And I'm probably going to set it in Wessex or Mercia!

Here's a lil sneak peek

-

Two of the male warriors are engaged in some kind of game of strength, wrestling each other drunkenly to the ground while the rest of the clan cheers them on, and while Lex is watching the ruckus with a neutral expression Lena has become accustomed to reading his moods from the smallest of cues. His contempt for the Norse is evident from his place at the centre of the high table.

In Lena's distraction the chair beside her, which had been blissfully empty, is filled in a blur of furs and blonde hair.

It's the woman who had been at Clark Jorelsson's side this morning. The one whose intense gaze had lit Lena aflame.

"Gods, I'm thirsty," the woman says, grabbing the nearest mug of ale and downing half its contents in a few moments. She's panting for breath when she finishes, a thin line of foam gracing her upper lip as she grins. "What I wouldn't give for some good honey-mead!"

"Is our ale not sufficient?" Lena says delicately. She folds one leg over the other, and the flaxen-haired woman's eyes dart down to track the movement. They stay there perhaps a shade longer than is proper.

"Simply an unfamiliar brew. But I am a far-traveller. I search out new experiences," the woman says, setting the mug down with more restraint than her brethren – these Norse are all so loud, so exuberant in their feasting. Singing and shouting and fighting with each other for sport. This woman is quieter than the rest, despite her warrior's stature. Her presence is a balm.

Lena hums. "And here I thought all Norse warriors were simply machines of war."

The woman snorts. "Only when we have to be."

"Tell that to the monks at Lindisfarne."

The woman's grin widens. She stares at Lena for a moment, seeming delighted despite Lena's borderline antagonism, and finally she holds out an arm to clasp.

"I am Kara Zorelsdottir. Clark is my kin."

"Ah. So you are to be my kin too, then?" Lena says, her own words tasting bitter in her mouth. The reminder of a marriage she didn't agree to. She glances across the room, where Clark is sitting slumped in his seat with a mug of ale in each hand. He looks about as thrilled with the situation as Lena feels.

She takes Kara's arm. The blonde's grip is firm and strong; the defined muscles of her forearm shift under Lena's hand, hidden by her furs. Kara's smile dims a little at Lena's words.

"That seems to be the way of it."

Kara's grip loosens. Lena finds she's loath to let it go, but she releases Kara's arm and settles back in her seat.

"My clan tries to make violence a last resort," Kara explains. When a passing servant moves to refill her mug as he passes, Kara holds a hand over it with a shake of the head. "Which is why we left home. Got tired of all the raiding. We just want to live in peace."

"And my marriage to your cousin is what will seal it for you," Lena says. Kara's mouth forms a tight line. The sputtering torches and roaring hearth fire in the centre of the hall flicker across her face, throwing her handsome features into stark detail.

"That’s Jonn’s hope."

"Clark himself doesn’t seem to hold the same hope," Lena notes with a nod in his direction. Kara chuckles humorlessly.

"He has a beloved back in Norway. Her father disapproved of the match, but he still pines for her." Kara takes an idle swig of her half-full ale. "I think he’s crazy for not jumping for joy when he saw you."

Lena's heart kicks a fierce drumbeat in her chest.

"Do you?" Lena says, managing to keep her voice even with great effort. Kara shrugs. She pulls a coin from her pocket, flicking it between her fingers in a thoughtless movement that Lena is sure took much practice.

"I told him if he’s to have a chosen match, at least he got the most beautiful one in Christendom."

Lena's whole body flushes with pleasant warmth.

#wip game

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 3

WARNINGS: a bit of British swearing :)

It's the first day of classes, and you're already struggling to stay awake in the middle of a lecture. Professor Sprout's lecture to be specific. As usual, she's going on about some magical plant as you and your peers stand around the greenhouse. On your right, Neville Longbottom is scribbling down notes like he's in a speed writing contest. You can't understand how someone could be so willingly involved in such a subject as this.

A gentle clatter coming from the back end of the greenhouse catches your attention. Everyone else seems to remain undisturbed and Professor Sprout has her back turned, so you take the opportunity and slink away unnoticed to investigate.

To your surprise, you find Fred and George Weasley rustling about in the greenery. Both hold a pair of clippers and are trying and failing to snip a piece of a plant that's fighting back.

You stifle a laugh and tiptoe up behind them. Using both hands at the same time, one for each twin, you tap their shoulders.

Fred yelps and George accidentally flings his clippers onto the floor. The twins spin around to face you.

You burst out laughing as the twins visibly relax in relief.

"Bloody hell, y/n!" Fred exclaims (you're delighted to learn that he knows your name, but you don't let it show). "Don't scare us like that! We thought you were Sprout."

"You sneaky little Slytherin," George chuckles, nodding his head in approval. "Congrats. Not many people can catch us off guard."

"Sorry, I couldn't pass the chance," you giggle. "Are you two stealing?"

"Attempting to," George says casually. "We need some of this one for a new project we're working on." He jabs his thumb at the bush of thrashing, green tentacles behind him.

"Great going, George. Now she knows too much," Fred jokes. "We're going to have to dispose of her."

"Pfft!" You wave a hand of dismissal. "If I know anything, it's how to keep a secret." You pause to peek around the corner, making sure Professor Sprout is still occupied. "In fact, I'll help if you'll let me."

"Oh, that would be grand!" Fred says as he claps his hands together.

George goes to retrieve his clippers and offers them to you. "There must be some sort of trick to it, right?" he asks.

You gently push away his hand. "There is, but it doesn't require any cutting." The twins part out of your way as you move toward the bush. "This plant is commonly referred to as 'Ask', as in 'Ask and Ye Shall Receive'. It's practically impossible to get a leaf if you try to take it by force."

The "Ask" has calmed down by now. You begin to lift your hand, and then are suddenly very aware of the twins peering over your shoulders, one on each side. They're not touching you, but are just close enough that you can feel their body heat. You do your best to ignore them as you reach for the bush's nearest leaf. You sense Fred and George observing intently as you run your pointer finger slowly up one side of the long leaf. Once your finger reaches the tip, the leaf instantly straightens. The leaf's base then silently detaches from the rest of the plant and falls into your hand.

You turn around, hold up the leaf, and smile, pleased with yourself. You have never done that without Professor Sprout's supervision before. "All you have to do is ask," you say.

Fred and George exchange a look, though you can't exactly tell what it implies. Probably some sort of twin communication that nobody but themselves could possibly hope to decipher.

"What is it?" you ask. They aren't answering you, and they're still too close for comfort. You can even smell them. "What? Tell me!" They smell strangely pleasant, particularly like a mixture of honey and the bark of a redwood tree.

"She could be of use," George says, raising his eyebrows. It's almost a question.

Fred rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, yes..."

"Don't talk like I'm not right here," you say, placing one hand on your hip and holding out the leaf with the other. "Do you want the damned leaf or not?"

"Ah, yes, thank you for that," George finally responds. He plucks the leaf from your grasp and lightly places it in the little bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Now we must depart, but we will likely be requesting for your services again," says Fred as he pats you on the head.

"Um... alright then." You are at a loss for words. You watch as the twins find their way around pots and boxes towards the back door. But just as they're about to make their exit, Professor Sprout's voice rings loud throughout the greenhouse. The twins freeze in place.

"Mr. Weasley... and Mr. Weasley. And... Ms. y/l/n?" Professor Sprout stands only ten feet away with students starting to gather behind her. You already know you've been caught when she glances down at George's bag. "Having a gander at my plants again, boys?" she says sarcastically. "And you, Ms. y/l/n? What are you doing back here?"

You look to the twins for help, but they just shrug their shoulders. You give a sigh of surrender.

"Only assisting my fellow classmates with their project," you laugh sheepishly.

Professor Sprout merely nods, as if to say she's disappointed in you but that she also knew this day would come eventually.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, fifteen from Slytherin, and detention this evening at six o'clock p.m. for the lot of you," the professor says. "You'll be re-potting the mandrakes." You, Fred, and George all groan in unison.

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #weasley family #fred and george weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #pov #x reader #reader pov #fanfiction #fanfic #weasley twins x reader