#feelin that post that's like 'says as little in the post as possible; in the tags: it began in 1940...'

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella x reader #charles smith x reader #rdr2 x reader #rogues love letters #red dead redemption 2 x reader #THIS IS THE LAST TIME. THE LAST FUCKING TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ncroissant]

chilchuck tims x bimbo! reader x laios touden

summary: how your poly relationship with your little lock picker and blond himbo would start<3

wc: 1.6k

content warning: sfw (for once???), looottts of fluff

author's note: surprise!! i'm writing both lmaoooo bc i love writing sm u guys. also i saw @ququoquaw post about how they wanted more laios x reader and laios x chilchuck, so here's all of it combined teehee!! hope u enjoy !!

(alt nsfw ver. here)

it was a slow day in the dungeon today that you all decided to just set up the camp and retired for the night. you, laios and chilchuck were the only ones up, playing cards around the warmth of the fire.

"i won again," chilchuck chuckled, already anticipating his win. laios threw down his cards in defeat while you gave him a little applause, yawning quietly.

to be honest, you were already dozing off mid-game. chilchuck and laios were the real night owls. you just had fomo and didn't miss out on the fun with the "adults".

"you feelin' tired, (name)? wanna head to bed?" chilchuck cooed, pushing off his knees to stand up. he noticed the way you were eyes would close for a second to doze off every time you blinked.

"mmnn...i dunno," you yawned even bigger this time, cupping your mouth with both of your hands.

"c'mon (name)! you gotta stay up with us, we're gonna have so much fun!" laios chuckled, shaking you awake. you gasped, trying to keep your eyes as open as possible. but you only had the energy to slump against laios' shoulder.

chilchuck stifled a laugh. you reminded him of his kids when they tried to convince him they weren't tired. "no, i think someone sounds a little tired," chilchuck walked over to kneel in front of you, brushing away the hair that fell over your eyes with two fingers.

"nu-uh..." you whined, rubbing at your eyes. "'m awake, chi." you were so not awake right now. it was way past your bedtime and you couldn't even bother to open your eyes.

"okay, okay, we're bringin' you to your room, squirt," laios nodded, lifting you into his arms. your arms and legs were securely wrapped around his body, your face stuffed into his neck.

"'m not a squirt, jerk," you mumbled, landing a weak punch against his back.

they both laughed at your deliriousness, placing you in the warmth of your bed, cocooned your blanket. "she looks like a caterpillar," laios slapped a hand over his mouth, hiding a loud laugh.

chilchuck didn't say anything in response, but his shoulders were shaking from laugher.

you were almost asleep, your arms splayed out on the bed and your head lulled to the side. you were breathing shallowly, feeling sleep slowly overtake you.

"alright, time for another round, chil!" laios silently ushered chilchuck towards the door, but a hand wrapped around chilchuck's wrist. the boys looked down at you with your eyes still closed, tugging his wrist towards you.

"can you guys stay 'n sleep with me?" you brought chilchuck's hand against your cheek, nuzzling against it. both boys had a fat, soft spot for you. like they could never resist you when you asked for something.

laios didn't understand his feelings at first. he thought he had some sort of "brotherly obligation" towards you like falin, but he quickly realized it was a lot different than that.

chilchuck, on the otherhand, was in denial for so long. he just thought you were ditzy and clingy. he didn't have the energy to deal with you at first. plus, he didn't even have any desire to date anymore. unfortunately, there were many times when you could be stupidly cute like this.

"y-yeah...we can. right, chil?" laios rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking at chilchuck for approval.

chilchuck bit his inner cheek in contemplation, looking down at the way you were leaning against the back of his hand like a puppy. "yeah, we can," he nodded, giving laios the same look.

they'd be so awkward slipping under your sheets, laying on either side of you to sandwich you in the middle. they kept a reasonable distance, not too reasonable since the bed was small and laios was a giant in comparison.

it would be so quiet. your eyes were still closed but your heart was racing. even if you opened your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see anything since it was so dark. you just laid there with your hands clasped on your chest.

"ummm...." laios started, cutting the silence. "am i taking up too much space?" he was nearly falling off the bed, just balancing on the edge of the mattress.

you pulled him closer towards you and chilchuck. "c'mere, lai," you nestled yourself safely into laois' chest, while pressing your back against chilchuck's chest. you could feel both hearts beat rapidly along with yours.

"thanks," laois mumbled, carefully putting an arm right above your head on the extra space of the pillow. his free arm was loosely wrapped around your head as he lightly patted the back.

chilchuck would grumble something about wanting more attention, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder.

he was so close that you could feel his breath tickle your ears. it made you feel so tingly. "is this okay?" chilchuck pouted with puffed cheeks as you nodded, flushed. "i think it's time for us to sleep now, hm?" he rubbed your hips softly, lulling you to sleep.

"sweet dreams, (name)," laios hugged you tightly, ruffling your hair gently. chilchuck would be already asleep and laios would lay awake thinking about how small you felt in his arms.

the next morning, you and chilchuck would be well-rested, looking like babies fresh out the womb. laios would have the deepest dark circles, devoid of any rest.

"slept so well!" you were already sitting up, stretching out your arms with a hearty yawn. "what about you two?" you looked at them expectantly.

"that's good to hear. i slept like a rock honestly," chilchuck chuckled, combing through your messy strands of hair. "can't say the say for him though," he looked down at the way laios was trying to hide under the blankets from the bright rays shining through your window.

"uuuughhhhh....." laios whined, stuffing his face deeper into the pillow.

you pouted at his sorry state, lifting the blanket to reveal a very tired laios. "aw, you didn't sleep so well, did you lai?" you frowned, carding your fingers through his blond locks.

"no. i was too scared that i was gonna roll over and kill you in my sleep, so i just stayed up all night," he groaned, clutching his throbbing head in a tight grasp.

you stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hands. "you're so silly, lai," you giggled, biting back your smile. "'m tougher than you think," you flexed your arms, patting them lightly with a big smile.

laios looked at you with his mouth agape. he didn't know if it was because of the rays of sun or if you were just naturally this beautiful, but you were extra pretty smiling like that.

"i am so in love with you." he'd blurt out, thinking with his heart and not his head.

you lowered your arm, mirroring the surprised look on his face. chilchuck smacked his forehead, sighing. "what he meant to say is-"

"no, i meant it, (name)," laios cut him off, clasping your hands in his and looking up at you with serious look. chilchuck didn't expect him to be so bold, emotions stirring up inside of him. he didn't know if should add his piece into this mess.

"oh." you looked at him, not a single thought behind those eyes.

"i'm sorry if i messed things up between us, but i just had to tell you. i didn't mean to just blurt it out like that," laios apologized, removing his hands from your hastily.

"no, 's not like that, lai," you put your hands up, shaking your head. "'s just i like chi," you bit your lip, cheeks flushed.

both boys looked at you dumbfounded. one heartbroken, one with an equally flushed expression like yours.

"but i like you too, lai!" you reassured him, placing your hands on his. "i like...both of you," you frowned, feeling embarrassed from your confession.

it's not that you only liked one of them, but both of them. and you were having a hard time choosing which one you wanted, knowing both would be too greedy.

it was silent for a moment, but not for too long. both boys had figured out a way to ease your predicament. one look at each other and instantly figured out a solution.

"well, i like you. and chil likes you too, so," laios started, rubbing his neck.

"would you be open to dating us both?" chilchuck mumbled, his neck completely flushed. chilchuck was familiar with sharing since having kids, but sharing a lover with his best friend was completely different.

it wasn't that he was against it at all, it was just new. it flustered him. knowing he'd be dating both of you if you agreed with their proposal.

naturally, your eyes lit up at their suggestion. "really?" your smile was almost blinding, your cheeks flushed in excitement.

"yeah," the two boys looked at each other, nodding.

your squeal was almost deafening. you wrapped an arm around each boy, pulling them in and kicking your feet under the blanket. the happiness you felt was fathomable.

"you're both mine, eee!" you sung, rubbing your cheek against chilchuck's amber hair. "and you're both each others' too!" you gasped, looking at both boys.

"that's so cool!" you cheered, hugging them both tighter than before.

as tired as laios was, he could only indulge in your happiness. and as much as chilchuck didn't want to admit, you were the prettiest when you were happy.

the entire morning consisted of you goofing off with your himbo + dilf boyfriends !!

#chilchuck #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck tims x reader #dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims delicious in dungeon #laios #laios touden #laios touden x reader #laios dungeon meshi #laois delicious in dungeon #chilchuck delicious in dungeon #fluff #x reader #ncrescent

[kumezyzo]

nsfw bf!sapnap x female!reader....so, minors do not interact! read it or whatever idgaf just dont reblog or comment or like the post. its pretty long already but it could have been longer lol.

so enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list

bf!sapnap who invites you over to the house to hang out like normal but it just so happens that you two get pulled into drinking by the other two

bf!sapnap who would have a few too many white claws and gets a little more touchy the more the alcohol starts to hit. feelin up the sides of you waist and hips, messing with the bottom of your shorts, and pressing himself into you

bf!sapnap who heavily denies it when george notices the bulge in his shorts and starts laughing loudly about it while calling him weird

bf!sapnap who has to pull you to his room into because he cant handle the ache between his legs. but obviously he cant pull you away without the other two saying something.

"wait, nick where are you going!?" dream asked loudly, giggling with george

"ew he's gonna go have sex" george scrunched up his face in disgust

"so what if i am?" sapnap would respond, pushing you up the stairs

bf!sapnap would then immediately kiss you once he closed the door behind him, locking it and pushing you towards the bed

he would make you sit as he gets down on his knees and starts kissing down your body

bf!sapnap who groans happily when you throw his hat off his head and grip tightly onto his hair. all while he practically rips your shorts off and kisses up and down your thighs

bf!sapnap who licks up your slit through your panties, humming at the warmth radiating from you. he forcefully tugs them off and presses rough kisses on your slit, smiling at the way you throw your head back and tug harder at his hair

HE cant handle teasing you so much. he cant help but to start eating you out desperately. if he was being honest, he was probably enjoying it more than you. with every jaw movement he made, his beard rubbed against you deliciously

bf!sapnap who would make you cum so nicely and lick up every drop that spills out of you, making you squirm away from him and push his head away.

or

bf!sapnap who gets so worked up with you sitting on his lap and kissing up and down his neck. he would have his hands holding your hips and waist, trying to grind up into you as discretely as possible

bf!sapnap who tries to act like youre not affecting him so much when you ask him if hes alright as you grind down into him slowly

bf!sapnap who cant help it when he moans at a particular grind of your hips and the unbelievable amount of heat radiating from your core

bf!sapnap who has to hurridly pull you off his lap to remove his sweatpants and boxers. and if you happen to not be moving fast enough for him, he'll help you out by practically tearing your own pants and underwear off of your legs

bf!sapnap who grips your hips tightly and forces you to straddle him before he kisses you roughly, placing one hand on your neck and the other one on your waist

he would start rocking his hips against you, shuddering at the feeling of your wet slit running along his dick

bf!sapnap who pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours when you start to rub yourself against him.

he fills with a sense of pride when you moan softly at the heat hes giving off between the lips of your pussy

bf!sapnap who helps you grind against him faster. he moans right against your ear as the wet sounds fill the room, his words barely filtering in your mind

"fuck, peaches, im not even- fuck- inside you... and you feel so fucking good. shit."

"yea?" it comes out like a whine, "you like me grinding on you like this?"

"yea- shit- cum on my cock. fuck- go ahead"

lol. it wasnt too detailed but whatever. remember to send asks, comment, or like to show support, i really appreciate it. or dont, thats fine too lol. thats it... bye -Nony

#sapnap x reader #sapnap smut #sapnap x you #sapnap #sapnap is just #😫😫😫 #dteam #mentions of dream #and george #cause theyre defffff in love #anyway #sapnap fics #sapnap ff #sapnap x y/n

[xxaraaq]

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣'

masterlist

Sypnosis | Onyakapon didn't get the childhood he deserved, but he doesn't see it. You do, and you want to help him. But how you do that if you won't let you?

wc | 4.7 k

c.w | hurt/comfort ig, talks of abusive childhood, breakdowns ig

Onyakapon x black! reader

A/N | Hey y'all, I'm sorry that I havent posted in so long so I hope this can make up for it. I love y'all and I hope you enjoy

If you asked about the of childhood Onyankopon had, he would say, “It was normal, nothin’ really special bout’ it.” And in his eyes, he was telling the truth. But from yours? You knew from deep in your soul that it was anything but normal. 

He never got to be a kid who could come home and feel safe. He was the kid who out past when the street lights came out, for he knew that if he came home too soon, he would have to face the consequences.

He was the kid who got pulled from class to talk about his home life. He was the kid who could be the sweetest thing until you brought up his cuts and bruises. He was the kid who wasn’t taught how to handle his emotions correctly; instead only learning from his surroundings on how to feel nothing but anger. He was the kid who would throw chairs and push kids off swings at recess. He was the kid who didn’t get a savior when he needed it. He was the kid who needed to be taught how to live the way any functional person would.

He was a kid that needed to be loved.

So when he grew from a kid to the young man he is now, he struggles. He doesn’t know how to process his emotions the way an adult should. He doesn’t know how to do anything besides concave on himself or push his emotions until they boil to the surface.  He doesn’t know how to just let someone love him the way he deserves to be loved.

But when the two of you met, you saw through it all. You saw that beneath all the cold stares, anger, and rough exterior, he was a just little boy who needed to be loved and taken care of; who needed the love and affection he didn’t get in his biggest time of need. And so you give it to him. All the kisses, hugs, and assuring words he so needs. You give all of it to him. But sometimes he can’t see how deeply the things that have been done to him affect him so deeply, and those are the times that he reverts back to his old ways.

“Y/n, I said it’s fine. Now chill the fuck out, you really startin’ to piss me off.” 

You freeze, staring at him at shock. You know that he tended to divert the conversation when he felt as though the confrontation was building too high. But to straight up shut it down? You didn’t have the patience to deal with that bullshit.

“What is your problem? Why do you always shut the conversation down when you don’t want to talk anymore? Why do you feel so entitled to do that? You're not the only one who’s feelin’ some typa way.” You frown. You’re not one for any type of confrontation, shying away from it if possible, but the way your boyfriend has been acting really sets you off. And the thing that bothers you the most is that he wont talk to you about it.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone? This conversation is done because I said it’s done. That’s it.” He says, glaring at you like you're a stranger.

“Why do you always do this? Why won’t you fucking talk to me? I am here, ony. I am here for you everything; why can’t you see that? That is what I’m here for, so I really can’t understand why as soon as you have a fucking problem you act like I’ll leave you if you come to me about it!”

He just stares, not knowing what to say. If he’s being honest, he knows that you’re there for him. You’ve shown him again and again that you love him with all your heart, shown him that you’re not going to leave. 

But he’s scared.

He’s scared that if he tells you, you’ll leave him for being vulnerable, for being weak. He’s scared that if he shows you all of him, you won’t like it. He’s scared that if he gives you his heart, all of it; that you’ll throw it away.

So he just stares at you, he stares as his eyes start to well up with hot tears, as his throat closes and and his shoulders start to tense. He stares until you notice him crying, rushing to his side as a choked, painful sobs racks through his body.

You hold him as he cries into your arms, accepting your warm embrace. You rub his back as you sniffles and hiccups as you rock the both of you. You don’t even notice when you start crying, wiping the tears away as you focus on comforting the man in your arms. You tell him that it’s going to be okay, to let it all out. You clean his face with nothing but your sleeve as you whisper sweet nothings into his ears to soothe him of his pain. On the inside, you thank your past self for following onyokapon into the room. Scooching back an inch or two, you bring the thick comforter on the two of you as you fully lay down with him on the bed.

The two of you stay like this until its silent, simply opting to bask in each other's presence. Your eyes dart to him as he speaks with a murky, rough tone. “M’ sorry for always doin’ dumb shit. I don’t know why I’m like this.” He apologizes, snuggling further into your frame. “I don’t know how to talk sometimes, I get so fuckin’ angry and I shut everything down so that I don’t say anything I’ll regret later and I’m just sorry for puttin’ you through all my shit.”

You sigh, looking down at him. “I love you, onyankopon. I want to go through all your shit with you. I want to help you, I promise you that.” You say, hugging him closer to you. “Ion’ know why, m’ really fucked up.” He snorts, playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. “Nigga did you not hear what the hell I just said?” You laugh, gently stroking his cheek.

He looks at you gently, gazing upon all your features. From the beauty mark above your left eyebrow to the way your eyes glow a gentle brown when the moonlight shines on them. “I love you, y/n. Like without all that sappy shit, I wanna be with you forever.” He says, tired eyes looking up at you. “Why can’t we have all the sappy shit? I love me some sappy shit!” You joke, sending him a faux offending look.

He huffs, shaking his head. You don’t even realize it, but you help that little boy in him feel everything he was supposed to feel when he needed it the most . You help the little boy into him feel safe, happy, and protected.

You help that little boy in him feel loved.

-Nene

#nene #aot #x black reader #x reader #aot x reader #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black y/n #angst/comfort #onyankopan angst #hurt/comfort

[buckys-little-belle]

little rae here 💌 if it okay can i talk to u & vent a lil?

feelin small, got a bit triggered by parents arguing. loud noises wit no sleep & my brain is feeling staticy nd fuzzy, rlly hard to think rn if that makes sense? wish i had stevie & eds wit me :( took a shower tho & now im gon cuddle wit my stuffed duck mr waddles & read some of ur stuff. thank u for makin me feel safe, love u belle i sendin hugs

Duckie

Steddie x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings -

Notes - Sometimes my brain feels all fuzzy so I definitely understand how you feel. Though I can’t actually send Steve and Eddie your way, in a literal sense, I can write them, so this is for you bub <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

- - - - - -

“Duckie?” Steve questioned, holding up two boxes, one filled with regular waffles, the other blueberry. Y/n’s head snapped towards him, their mind far away as he spoke. “Which ones do you want?” Steve asked, the question now being asked for the third time, though Y/n seemed to be listening at least a bit this time.

“I dunno.” They mumbled, a sigh punctuating their words. “I can’ fink.” They confessed, their eyes filled ever so slightly with tears, guilt building in their chest at their inability to give an answer.

“That’s okay Duckie.” Steve smiled knowingly, he knew Y/n sometimes got ‘far out’, as Eddie would say, their thoughts slower and mind distant. Instead of asking the question again he placed one of each waffle into the toaster.

- - - - - -

Steve hand’t told Eddie about Y/n’s mindset, just sending them to him after breakfast to wake him up and get dressed. “What do you want to wear?” Eddie asked Y/n, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he strode over to the dresser, opening the drawer filled with Y/n’s clothes. “A big shirt? Sleeves? No sleeves?” He began rattling off the options.

“I don’ know Ed’s.” Y/n frowned, sitting on the end of the bed, their hands in their lap as their head hung low, the carpet the centre of their attention.

“Well what colour do you want?” He asked instead, thinking that might be an easier question to ponder.

Instead of yell out their favourite colour like usual Y/n let out a sob. “I don’ wanna pick Ed’s.” The cried, tears falling from their cheeks, dripping onto the floor.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, entering the room, a coffee in hand as he assessed the situation.

“‘m head feels fuzzy, I don’ know what shirt I wanna wear Stevie, I don’ know what waffles I wanna have, I jus’ don’ know!” They cried.

“Hey, hey.” Eddie cooed, kneeling down in front of Y/n, his head blocking their view of the boring carpet, Steve sitting down beside Y/n, his hand soothingly on their back, his mug long disregarded. “That’s okay, you don’t have to decide anything okay.” Eddie smiled, rubbing up and down their arm.

“We don‘ t have any plans today Duckie, we can stay in our Pjs and watch some movies, nice and simple, okay?” Steve offered, knowing how hard it can be for Y/n when in this headspace, their mind distant and the day confusing. “Come on, let’s brunch your teeth, and find Mr. Waddles, hm?” Steve stood up, grabbing his mug and gesturing to the bathroom.

“I’ll set the couch up for us.” Eddie smiled, leaping in action, gathering pillows and blankets for the group, the couch soon a miss mash of fuzzy blankets and comfy pillows.

- - - - - -

The day went by quickly, the three of hem sprawled out over the living room, more and more stuffies being added in after every movie, Eddie wanting Y/n to be as comfy as possible. “Here.” Eddie whispered, passing Y/n their sippy cup, and Steve a new mug filled with coffee. “It’s fruit punch.” He warned, making sure they knew what was in it, not wanting them to be surprised.

“Tanks.” Y/n murmured, gripping their stuffie closer, and snuggling back into Steve, Eddie picking up their legs to lay in his lap, blankets quickly thrown over them all to keep warm.

Sure the days plans had changed, but Y/n needed their boys, and their boys were happy to comply, willing to make the hard decisions for the day in exchange for some warm cuddles and happy laughs.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #little!reader #age regression #eddie munson x little reader #eddie munson little fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson age regression #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x little!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #steve x little reader #steve harrington x little!reader #steve harrington x little reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

[donationwayne]

Feelin Good (Could be Better) Chapter One

Hello, I have posted the first chapter of my first ever chapter fic which I am super stoked about!!! This is is already completed so I will be posting chapters completely randomly because I am a chaos demon. (fic is about 24.5k total!)

You can read the first chapter of my fic over on AO3 right here

Summary

The Buckley parents come to town, turning Buck's already shaky mental status from precarious to worse. Despite avoiding a dreaded dinner at all costs, Buck consents to join Maddie, Chimney, and his parents for dinner. Buck is super fine thanks for asking, he'll just bake about it. And think about kissing Eddie, obviously. Secrets are revealed, leaving the 118 reeling.

Snippet

“No, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a parent.” Buck answers instead, truthfully. Hen sends him a strange look. There is an odd, almost hesitant lilt to her tone that Buck can't dissect. “And why not?” Buck shakes his head. “I doubt it's in the cards.” He tries to be flippant so he can play it off as one of his usual perpetually single self-deprecating jokes. Chim frowns, all trace of teasing gone, when he sees how uncharacteristically serious Buck’s own expression is despite the attempt at humor. “And just why do you think you’d be a bad father? You’re great with Chris and Jee.” What Buck doesn’t say is that he could never commit himself to the possibility of becoming either of his parents. Sometimes he still tastes the blood in his mouth from a split lip or a bloody nose. It would never be worth the risk. “Yeah, it sort of surprises me,” Hen admits. “I always figured you would settle down and have a herd of little Buckley’s, even if you just adopted. You always get so wistful when you’re babysitting.” Buck simply shrugs because he fears his voice might crack. This conversation felt a little too vulnerable, especially for a lighthearted trip to the park after a late lunch on their day off. It wasn’t a discussion he was prepared to have right now—especially without delving into the dirty details of his childhood. Eddie, who was apparently listening in from his post by the slide, is staring at him as though he’s trying to put together a complicated puzzle, and the answer is written somewhere in Buck's eyes. He looks shell-shocked and a bit like Buck had open hand slapped him across the face by informing them he never intended to become a father.

#he broke eddie's heart a lil with that #everyone looking at buck like do i know u sir? #everyones also thinking: aren't you a dad already??? #yes i put a cute eddie jee-yun scene in there bc i have no self control #911 abc #911 #aubs rambles #buddie #evan buckley #fanfic #buddie fanfic #this is a fic for all the buckley parent haters out there #angsty!buck #whump!buck #eddie diaz #aubs writes fanfic #911 wip #buddie wip

[oohbuggypie]

I HAVE SOMETHING SAD TO SAY ! today marks the day that #dewdlebug goes on break !!! i think this is a little predictable HELP i was drawing nearly like every day for a while, but this pen has been feelin funky in my hand .... like nothing is coming out right noooo ! so im gonna go ahead and say that im gonna step back from art for however long i need 🩷 ill mainly post text and possibly snippets of writing , so stay tuned for that !! thank u 4 ur understanding 🩷,,,,, buuuut

in honor of this break, i think it's important i show some art that never made it out of the notebook !

1. Disco Kid practice doodle that i didn't like cuz of the eyes (added too much pink tinge , made it look odd + they just dont look right imo)

2. silly quick BullDonSoda(???) doodle cuz of that one post i made :3 generally not a fan of it idk but i do think it's cute ! also srry for the crazy lighting omg

3. redraw of a screencap of Sandy < 3 frame credit 2 @.wierdlesbian !!

4. Don faces from memory / figuring out his prominent features hehee he's so cutesie UGH

i think that's about ittttt 🩷 srry abt the break guys , id love to return as quick as possible because i have SO many ideas and things i genuinely wanna do, i think that the overload of inspiration might actually b the thing that's hurting my ability to make art i enjoy HELP .. it's okay though this isn't goodbye, just a necessary break 🩷 i absolutely despise the idea of creating art that i simply feel no love for, so im hopeful that this is what will help ease that feeling ✝️ love yall mwuahh

#punch out!! wii #punch out wii #punch out #soda popinski #bald bull #disco kid #don flamenco #mr. sandman #mr sandman #dewdlebug #phewph this is so hard to say guys !! i absolute adore making art and i wanna do it even now but just TEW MUCH UPSTAIRS !! too much to do !! #i wanna pick it back up as soon as possible i rlly do but i just cant put art with no love or life behind it in2 the world .. no fun in that #i love my lil PO!! community so much thank u all so much 4 always giving me love and support for my silly drawings #in the meantimeee ... GO SCROLL THE DEWDLEBUG TAG and marvel at all the stupid little doodles of Punch Out!! Wii boxers accumulated there 🩷

[starsunderwaterr]

Sleeping with the Idols + Agent 8 + Cap’n 3! (pt. 4)

Hey hey hey we on the final part!! 

Cap’n’s part was super long because I love my little shy muffin and the 4 AM creative juices were flowing 

This was so much fun, feel free to leave requests!

(Y/N) — your name

(N/N) — nickname

All characters involved are 18+

Minors DNI

Warnings: PTSD episode, mentions of death, mentions of depression

Cap’n 3!

Had to save the best for last <3....and btw this one is super long, so I’m gonna split it into mini chunks 

Also using she/they pronouns for our Cap’n :>

Schleepovers!

Getting the Cap’n to trust you took...awhile to say the least

Years actually, but y’all can read about that when I post ab it AHAH-

Sleeping with them started out separately, as they weren’t ready for that much excitement yet, but you also lived in two different apartments, so it was just easier

The rare times you would have sleepovers, the two of you would sit next to each other and pass out on the couch next to each other watching a movie <3

If Three was feelin’ extra affectionate, they’d lean their head on your shoulder or slump into you a little more than usual

Since Three doesn’t really talk much, you read her well through her body language (and she loves that you pick up on this too)

You can really tell when they like something by how much they’ll look at you or how bright their eyes will get

and it’s sooooo cute bro omg

Sleepovers heal their inner child that never got to be a child

As time went on, and you guys got closer, she would start to use her words more with you, because they knew you were a safe space

You guys were talking about plans, and the possibility of a sleepover when you suddenly remembered you couldn’t go :(

Three looked up at you from their cap, “Sleepover tonight?” By her eyes, you could tell they really wanted to

You smiled, “Sure!” But right as you said it, you facepalmed, sighing.

“Oh wait! Cod...I’m sorry, Three...I forgot that tonight is my friend’s birthday party...” Three didn’t look phased, but their eyes dropped. 

“It’s okay.” Don’t get alarmed, Three wasn’t mad, they’re just very blunt! (they’re a very healthy person <3)

Buuuuuttt, to make up for it, you surprised them, and omgggggg BRO

You left the party early, explaining that you had something important to do

Being the cool partner you were, you decided to surprise your love by knocking on her door

and dude omgggg-

The look on their face when they saw it was you at the door?????

DYING it was ADORABLE

You knocked on the familiar apartment door, waiting patiently as you could hear shuffling from inside

A glimpse of their eye came into the peephole before the door opened a lightning speed and with godly force, Three standing there shocked in their pjs

“Hey.” You smiled, watching a smile come onto their face (and man were they trying so hard to hide it too)

“Hey...” Three mumbled, about to internally explode

COD THEY WERE SO HAPPY THAT NIGHT

Literally couldn’t hide their smile as much as they wanted to, and eventually just let it out <3

When Three got comfortable with physical affection, they got even more adorable

Will text you ab coming over a lot more bc they seriously miss being next to you when they sleep

Congratulations, you have been bestowed the Medal of the Safe Space!

She just gets so calm around you, and she can be pretty affectionate when she wants to be

The first time sleeping with Three was definitely one for the books

You let them come to you, and they did

They didn’t speak, but they spoke with their eyes, but you honestly were so tired that you didn’t get it shdhdefhhdhd—

You guys were on your sides facing each other, and Three kept looking from your eyes to your hand, which was laying right next to your face

You furrowed your brows, seeing her face heat up before she grabbed your hand and connected it with their own

You smiled in response, mumbling an apology before giving their forehead a soft kiss

Immediately hid their face- (IN A GOOD WAY I SWEAR)

If you guys are watching something, shoulders and legs are touching, I don’t make the rules

Likes kisses on the forehead and cheek (they make her smile :> )

One day Three sat you down and talked about possibly moving in together

You said yes in a heartbeat

Sleepin’ w/ Three is honestly pretty normal at first, kinda just sticking to each other’s sides but enjoying the warmth

But,,,,as time goes on, they start letting you know that they want a lil more love

Will hug your torso from behind and sleep like that a lot (does it unconsciously too)

Loves holding hands when you go to bed, or at least having a limb touch one of hers

She likes to know that you’re there and safe when they go to sleep because they worry ab you man

TIME FOR A BREAK SQUIDKIDS AND OCTOTOTS

Nightmares and Comfort

Bruh I ain’t gonna lie to you they have nightmares about hurting you or losing you a lot

If they’re not that bad (like once every 2 weeks or so) they usually wake up a little startled, but not enough to cause a disturbance

But, if they’re really stressed from their work as Captain or from other things, they happen more frequently, which causes a lot of insomnia

The worst part is that Three is always trapped in her sanitized self with no way out

So not only is it extremely debilitating for themselves, it’s debilitating to have the thoughts of not wanting to hurt the one you love but literally having no power over it

These kinda nightmares definitely wake you up, because it’s one of the only times Three either gasps loudly or lets out a small scream

The first time it happened, she was so hesitant to let you in

They actually ran into the bathroom and wouldn’t come out because they were so afraid to let you see them like this

But also, looking at you hurt too much

She never wanted to or wants to hurt you, even in arguments

The next time it happened, you were right there again, and as to not overwhelm her, you held their hand and helped to calm them down

Three jolted awake, a loud gasp leaving their throat as they clutched their chest

You sat up, your heart pounding as you recognized the situation right away, “Hey, it’s okay.” 

With tears in their eyes, they took a breath, nodding as they tried to catch onto a calmer rhythm 

You have to be very matter-of-fact with them; don’t sugarcoat it

But man, that look of pure fear in their eyes...it really pains you to see that

Sometimes it’s more severe than other times, and usually when that happens she’ll cling onto you in a hug that practically kills you

Eventually opened up to you about the nightmare, and explained why it makes her feel so on edge

Has cried about it, almost had panic attacks, but what they greatly appreciate (and I mean really appreciate) is that you are always there

Will pass out in your arms listening to your heartbeat afterwards (knowing you are in fact alive comforts her)

If they’re going through the insomnia, you’ll hold them on your chest and rub their back to help them hopefully relax into sleep

Even if it doesn’t work, she’s so comfy and content

Now, if the roles are reversed, and you wake up upset or crying, Three kinda does the same

They’ll instantly shove you into a hug and hold your head with the back of their hand as you cry

Quietly asks you what’s wrong, and if you’re going through it, you might even feel the lump forming in their throat, because it truly pains her to know that you’re suffering too

Will definitely cry with you and will wipe away your tears

Three really loves you, and they’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay

Will kiss you goodnight every.single.night on the cheek, and every time they do, they kinda hesitate before they do and it’s so goddamn cute bro omg

The two of you have had many late night deep talks about your lives and who you both are, and it’s been an honor to have her open up that much to you and talk to you that much

You never told them, and they’ll similarly never tell you, but the two of you both check up on each other in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping to make sure you’re okay

Sometimes you’ll both feel a little smooch on your head or cheek in the middle of the night and can’t help but smile after settling down

Overall, a more serious post, but one of the best slow burn smooch piles ever <3

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #captain 3 #captain 3 x reader #agent 3 #splatoon x reader #captain 3 headcanons #i am obsessed with them #i have a huge crush on them if you couldnt tell #day in the life of a true brexit geezer

[zinya]

Obey me brothers as songs

Hey how are you? I'm on break from my revisions, I still have 6 chapters to learn on cardiovascular physiology 🥲.Otherwise here are some little heacanons on boys and music, I would like to point out that my "selection" is made more on the lyrics than the style or genre of music

Lucifer

I think the chorus suits him very well.

Mammon:

Many posts that I have read choose music on the theme of money or for partying but I find that this music perfectly shows your state of mind when it is more "serious"

Leviathan :

100% anime

But more seriously if I had to choose on the lyrics I would say this one:

Asmodeus

I mean....it's the avatar of lust.....

Satan:

I think the fact that the music tells a slightly creepy story (well not really but I don't have another word) suits it well.

Beelzebub

Food ✅️

Rhythmic music that motivates ✅️

I was hesitant with this one so I put it on, I find it well represents his affection for MC and his family

Belphegor :

For belphi before lesson 16

Just for the joke sorry guys 🤣

Well I have reached the limit possible to put music.....

You want a part 2 ?

And hop, I've already been writing for an hour, I'm going back to revise bye bye

#Spotify #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me shall we date #obeyme beelzebub #obeyme mammon #obey me #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me songs #obeyme asmodeus #obey me asmo

[phillippadgettwrites]

Creatures Stirring

Rated X / 2171 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Falling snow casts little speckled shadows on the wall, drifting gently down until they disappear behind the curve of Scully’s shadow-shoulder. She pulls in a deep breath through her nose and then lets it deflate slowly, avoiding the noisy sigh that she knows will draw Mulder’s attention. He appears to be asleep, based on the even hush of his breaths behind her, but she’s been surprised by how easily he rouses when she sleeps beside him.

Not that she has nearly enough data to identify any trends at this point. Setting aside the many times he has slept in her presence over the years, she can count on one hand the occasions they’ve laid under the covers like this, partially clothed and close enough that she can feel the heat of his body radiating against her back. Of those occasions, only twice have things gone further than hungry kisses and his jeans-bound erection pressed tightly between her thighs. There’s no routine to it, no predictable cadence of dinner, movie, kiss, fuck. Every moment alone feels full of possibility, and it’s just as likely that he’ll ask her opinion on a case as back her up against his kitchen counter and slip his tongue in her mouth.

Missy loved this part. She called it ‘new relationship energy.’ A time of excitement, and passion, and the thrill of not knowing what will happen next. But all Scully can think about is how she should introduce him to her family at Christmas brunch tomorrow, and what they’ll do if this all goes to hell. She finds herself vacillating between overwhelming infatuation and stark fear—she craves the taste of his tongue enough to drive across town at 11:30 pm, but the moment she leaves his apartment she chastises herself for being so driven by her libido and emotions.

The twisted, nervous feeling in her belly has been unrelenting for the last two days, and she can tell that Mulder senses her unrest. On top of everything else she feels guilty, because she knows she’s pulling away but can’t stop. Just after she switched off the bedside lamp he’d reached for her and she froze, incapable of reciprocating. After a few uncomfortable moments passed he withdrew his hand, and it somehow felt like a rejection. Even as she aches for the comfort of his touch, she fears it; there is so impossibly much at stake. Her job, her sanity, his presence in her life. Overwhelmed and out of her element, she’s been rapidly folding in on herself, forming a tight little bundle where nothing—and no one—can get in.

Maybe if this weren’t so painfully new he would just ask her what’s wrong. Maybe if they’d had a conversation about what, exactly, it is that they’re doing here, he’d feel confident enough to pull her into his arms and break down the walls he’s only so recently scaled. But all they’ve managed is a brief conversation about the necessity of condoms—or lack thereof—and whether it would make the most sense for him to just sleep over on Christmas Eve, given how early Maggie is expecting them on Christmas morning. She has divulged to him her deepest fears and insecurities, trusted him with her life, allowed him to see her sick, and broken, and dying, and yet telling him how afraid she is of this—of them—feels too vulnerable.

He shifts behind her, rolling from his back to his side, and the sudden weight of his palm on her hip makes her startle and stiffen. A beat passes, and she knows that her lack of responsiveness will cause him to pull away again. Even so, she cannot bring herself to act. She feels his grip loosen before his fingers begin to trail down and away, and in a surge of what feels like bravery, she reaches back and lays her hand over the top of his to still him.

Say something, she urges herself. But her vocal cords are paralyzed, rendered immobile by the weight of so much uncertainty. Where would she even begin?

“You okay?” he asks, the heat of his breath warming the crown of her head.

“Can’t sleep,” she squeaks out, feeling foolish for how much this is affecting her, and even more foolish for being unable—or perhaps unwilling—to articulate it.

He hums and wriggles closer, hooking his chin over her shoulder and moving their joined hands down to rest on her belly. His physical closeness relaxes her, loosening the tension in her muscles as she feels the rise and fall of his ribcage against her back.

“I don’t have to go tomorrow, if you’d rather I not,” he suggests in a gravelly, sleep-worn voice that rumbles in her spine.

She feels a sharp pang of guilt, realizing how this must feel for him, what it must look like. Like she isn’t sure about him—about them. Like she doesn’t want him to ruin her family Christmas photo with his fleeting presence. She’s willing to torment herself with her own uncertainty, but she draws the line at allowing Mulder to feel, once again, as though he isn’t wanted.

“No, I want you to,” she insists, tightening her grip on his hand.

A heavy pause. Mulder sucks in a breath and lets it out forcefully, not bothering to conceal his own contemplative sigh. He’s an intelligent man, and a perceptive one, which is part of what makes him so attractive to her as a person and a partner. It also means that he is not the type of man to be fooled by thinly veiled platitudes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, closing her eyes even though she can’t see his face. Somehow that makes it easier to say the words out loud. “I know I’m being…”

Difficult? Withdrawn? Prickly? She can’t find the right word to describe her own behavior.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly, and his forgiveness makes her feel even worse. “What’s going on in here?” he asks, lifting his head away from hers briefly to run the tip of his nose across the skin behind her ear.

She groans, and he chuckles.

“Everything,” she says on a sigh. “Tomorrow. But also the day after that. The future, I suppose.”

Another hum of understanding. She’s grateful that she doesn’t need to spell it out.

“Anything I can do?” he asks, and she knows that it’s not an empty offer. It never is, with him.

She shifts away from him and rolls to her back, still holding their joined hands against her belly. He’s backlit by streetlight haze, his expression an aphotic mystery, but she doesn’t need to see his face to intuit the empathetic furrow of his brow and the searching depth of his eyes. How cruel the methods of her creator, that the source of her tumult could also be its only antidote.

“I could use a distraction,” she says, just coyly enough that he’ll understand. Adrenaline fires against her ears at her own brazenness, and she swallows nervously.

She hears the wet crack of his lips parting and wonders when his smile became something she could hear. Years ago. Lifetimes ago. Long before she ever imagined that she might someday discover how that smile tastes.

He doesn’t make a joke, which she’s grateful for. She feels the heat of his breath against her cheek as he leans in and brushes his lips across hers, locating her mouth. He kisses her softly, lingering until she sucks in a breath and lets it out with a hum, relaxing into the mattress. He breaks the kiss briefly and then goes in for another, coaxing her slowly out of the depths of her mind with his mouth, and his hand wandering down to her hip. He plays at the hem of her sleep shirt, his fingertips grazing the tops of her thighs and awakening nerve endings that had been deadened by stress, and fear, and her own catastrophizing.

He touches the knee closer to him, hitching her leg up and draping it over his hip. As his hand comes to settle over the cotton gusset of her panties, he opens his mouth wider and slides the hot tip of his tongue across her bottom lip. She is successfully pulled out of the uncertain future and rooted firmly here and now, in the sleepy taste of his mouth and the gentle pressure of his fingertips against her slickening cunt. Her hands are in his hair, or on his jaw, or squeezing his bicep in encouragement when he slips one finger under the gusset of her panties and grazes her swollen lips. She’s not really thinking about what her hands are doing. She’s not really thinking about anything.

She feels the eager press of his mouth on her lips, her cheeks, her neck, the shell of her ear. She also feels his erection digging into her ass cheek, though he makes no move to provide her access to it. He nudges her panties to the side and pushes a finger into her and she gasps, shocked by how good it feels. He withdraws and slides his slickened finger across her clit, making her hips jump up off the bed. Some corner of her mind is telling her that this should be much more reciprocal, but there’s no way in hell she’s going to ask him to stop. He doesn’t even pause long enough to remove her panties, just wedges his hand underneath the fabric and finds the most delicious rhythm of touch and then penetration, winding her up tighter and tighter with each swirl of his finger around her clit.

“I’m gonna come,” she whispers against his mouth.

He holds her there, right at the edge, neither letting her fall forward or back. She’s not sure that she’s ever felt this good for this long, half wanting to come so badly she could cry and half never wanting this precise moment to end. He kisses her in that same soft, coaxing way he did at the start, and then presses his finger firmly against her clit and grinds it in slow circles.

She disappears inside herself. What she’s saying, what she’s doing, none of it matters. All that exists is the slide of his fingers inside her and the butt of his hand held tightly against her throbbing clit. Her hips roll like ocean waves and her fingernails dig painfully into the flesh of his arm, and she lets it carry her far out to sea until the shore is just a speck on the horizon.

When she finds herself again, her cunt is still quivering around his fingers and her immediate inclination is to thread her arm between them and grab hold of his cock through his boxers. He’s painfully hard, but he shifts his hips away.

“You don’t have to,” he tells her, kissing a trail down the column of her neck.

She pushes his hand away, wordlessly slipping her panties off and moving over him. Sitting atop his thighs, she frees his erection and languidly pumps her fist from root to tip. The light from the window reaches his face from this position, and he’s looking at her with something resembling awe that makes her feel confident and beautiful. She releases him long enough to pull her shirt off, then scoots up and runs the head of his cock through the slickness between her legs before guiding him inside.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his hands finding her hips and then trailing up slowly towards her breasts as she begins to move. This is the first time she’s been on top, and she experiments with lifting her hips versus a slow grind, finally settling on shifting forward and back with her full weight on him. It feels good, but she’s already had hers and she finds the widening of his eyes and the lift of his shoulders off the mattress thrilling when she begins to ride him roughly. Her hips snap forward and back, and his breathing becomes labored. His eyes flash from her face to her breasts, his mouth hanging open until he sits up abruptly and clutches her to him, kissing her feverishly as he groans and pulls her hips down hard against his pelvis. She feels the hot rush of his cum spilling out around him, and then he pulls her down with him as he falls back against the bed, spent.

He touches her back, rubbing wide circles, and they are quiet for a time.

“Better?” he asks, and she smiles against the damp skin of his chest.

“Mhm,” she replies, nuzzling into him further. She has no intention of moving from this spot anytime soon.

He lifts his head to look at the bedside clock, then grabs the edge of the comforter and draws it up over them both.

“It’s after midnight,” he informs her. “Merry Christmas.”

She pulls in a breath, sighing contentedly.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she says.

They sleep.

#the x files #x files fanfic #xf fic #xf fanfic #smut #dana scully #fox mulder #xfiles

[venus-haze]

You've done vampire!Elvis but how about Werewolf!Elvis? I can only imagine...

I went with a but of a horror movie route for this one, I hope you don’t mind! I specifically though of Elvis’ cover of Blue Moon from his debut album for the howling and overall tone of this, it’s like the perfect combination of haunting and romantic🖤

Werewolf!Austin!Elvis x Reader

Warnings: Dark themes such as obsessive and manipulative behavior, mentions of body horror/gore, and elements of isolation, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

You’re walking home alone at night and with each step want to berate yourself for being too stupid to not call someone when you last passed a payphone. The full moon was bright, which should have quelled some of your nerves. Instead, a chill rolls down your spine

Too afraid to look behind you, you know you’re being watched, or followed, or both. You keep walking, your heart racing despite not doing anything strenuous, and when you finally muster up the courage to glance over your shoulder, there is, in fact, a man a few yards behind you

You start running because it can’t hurt things, until he starts running too, and for some reason, you decide to make a break for it in the nearby wooded area, hoping you can lose him at some point, but it seems like he knows them better than you do

Out of breath and terrified, you take refuge behind a tree, hoping you can make it back out to the road without him noticing. You hear a rustling in the autumn leaves that have fallen to the ground, and when you peek out from your hiding place you see a wolf, and you almost wish it had been the man instead when it begins howling almost hauntingly

You make the panicked decision to start running again, which works out about as well as it did the first time, and lose your way under the tree cover, slipping on wet leaves and tumbling down the hill littered with gnarled tree roots and sharp stones. As you go in an out of consciousness, you know you’re dead

Until you’re not, and you wake up with a major headache and an sharp pain in your side that prevents you from moving. You’re not sure where you are, but not long after you regain consciousness a man who looks like he could have been a movie star comes into the room, relief on his face

“Jesus, girl, I was startin’ to worry you’d never wake up,” he says. “You feelin’ alright?”

“Just my head and pretty much everything else,” you answer. “Why didn’t you bring me to a doctor?”

He jerks his head toward the window, rain pouring down outside. “Road’s washed out. The rain was startin’ to get real bad when I found you. What were you doin’ by your lonesome out there anyway?”

You recount the situation to him, and he looks genuinely concerned, which makes you feel a bit better. When he relays that he doesn’t have a phone, being so far out from town, your mood sinks just as quickly. The more you observe the place, the more you notice it doesn’t have much of anything. You know people are looking for you, but with the road washed out by the downpour and no phone, there’s no way to let anyone know where you are

He could have left you for dead, though, this man who had so little himself, and yet he took you in. He shares that his name is Elvis, and a handsome smile spreads across his face when you tell him yours

He spends the next week or so tending to the gash you have in your abdomen, and you can hardly stand to look at it because of how deep it is. Still, it’s healing a lot better than you expected from a man in a cabin in the woods who wouldn’t give you a straight answer when you asked him what he did for a living or how he could possibly survive on his own out there

When Elvis thinks you’re asleep, he goes out at night and only returns hours later, close to sunrise, yet he shows no signs of exhaustion in the mornings

Though the rain’s subsided, the road is still washed out, and you come to terms with being stuck with Elvis for longer than you’d expected. Not that you mind, he’s charming and funny, but you feel like a burden, and whenever you try to do something like clean up a little or cook, he insists it’s not good while you’re still recovering

As it nears a month since that terrifying night, you notice his behavior becoming increasingly erratic, especially when he comes back from his nightly outing to god knows where and declares his love for you at what you figure must be four o’clock in the morning, kissing you passionately and then not acknowledging it at all as the two of you eat breakfast just a few hours later

Washed out road or not, you need to get out of there. Not long after Elvis leaves around his usual time, you sneak out too, figuring it couldn’t be too hard to find the road from where you were, until you walk far enough to realize there is no road and you can hear an a familiar howling that makes your blood curdle—loud, clear and far too close for comfort

Then you see it, the silhouette that’s haunted your dreams for the past month approaching, getting closer until you recognize Elvis’ face contorted in pain and panic. “I knew it was you, Y/N. It had to be you,” he says frantically, stumbling forward toward you. “You should be ready now. This won’t hurt you”

“What? What are you talking about?” you ask, unable to produce any more words as you witness his painful and grotesque transformation under the silver moonlight. You stare at the wolf before you, unsure of what to do next, but he makes his move first, lunging straight for your throat

Taglist: @eliseinmemphis @kittenlittle24 @crash-and-cure @im-lame-irl @loudwombatmugkid @rxsesss @roseymary04 @queendelrey @jovialladyaurora @positivitylane112 @moonknightswif3 @holy-minseok @datsavageavenger @21bruhs @luckyevansstan

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #werewolf!elvis x reader #headcanons

[savventeen]

feelin' thorny

rating: M pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader wc: 0.4k summary: florist seungkwan receives a bouquet from his rival — emotions are had warnings: slightly nsfw discussion, language tags: rival florists, the is the start of an enemies to lovers fic (that i will probably never write), soonyoung says some Wild Shit, reader is actually only mentioned in this sorry a/n: i know nothing about flowers or their meanings i just used google and then made shit up lol (also this was originally a vmin drabble i posted on twt two years ago)

Seungkwan looked down at the bouquet of flowers — beautifully arranged and wrapped in old newspaper and tied with a dainty blue ribbon — gobsmacked.

It was addressed to him of all people.

No one ever sent Seungkwan flowers. Because who would send flowers to a florist? Especially from his rival's shop?

And speak of the devil, the little card carefully attached to the ribbon simply read from y/n <3 in a distressingly elegant calligraphy.

He looked at the artfully arranged flowers more closely. There was an obvious yellow color scheme — hyacinth (jealousy - sport, game, play) and tansy (hostile thoughts, declaring war) and tarragon (lasting interest) arranged neatly around a single tall sunflower (haughtiness) — but a few white roses (I'm worthy of you) were included to help balance it out. It really was beautiful, and some unknown feeling did a little somersault in his chest.

And then the meanings sunk in.

You had just sent him a flower arrangement that essentially said "wow, you're so jealous, fucking fight me" but in the most annoyingly flirtatious way possible. It made Seungkwan want to commit arson.

"That absolute motherfucker."

"Okay, Kwan-ah, I'm confused," Soonyoung piped up from where he was re-poting some ferns in the corner. "Do you want to kill whoever sent those, or fuck them?"

Seungkwan choked on his spit.

Soonyoung blazed on, "Because the words you just said were mean but you look so grossly in love that I'm concerned hearts and rainbows are going to start shooting out of your pores like some kind of homoerotic pipebomb."

Or maybe murder was on the table after all.

"Kwon Soonyoung you are henceforth forbidden from ever opening your mouth inside my shop ever again." He threw one of the many flower-themed stress balls he kept lying around for this exact reason at Soonyoung's head, taking pleasure at the pained yelp Soonyoung let out as he failed to dodge out of the way and sprawled gracelessly across the floor.

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the bouquet. "And to answer your question..."

The flowers stared up from where he was still clutching them with both hands, judging him. Waiting.

Seungkwan sighed.

"Both. Definitely both."

#seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #seungkwan fanfic #svt #svt fic #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeenweeklyarticle #the rest of svt watch on as seungkwan and reader try harder and harder to politely out petty each other #it's both hilarious and unbearably frustrating for them to watch lmao #also i hope u accept this offering of old fic i'm reposting while i continue to work on wips #savv writes #savv fics #can't believe i almost forgot my own tags lmao

[marblemoovt]

Makeup - Mondo Owada/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff

Summary:

You do Mondo's makeup.

----------- "Shit, Y/n. You're gonna stab my eye out," Mondo complains, flinching when you attempt to draw along his waterline. You dismiss his worries and press the end of the pencil against his lips as a signal for him to shut up.

"You don't need to act out. I know you're only behaving like this because you're too embarrassed that my face is mere centimetres away from yours." Your words leave a trail of red across his cheeks, and he defensively looks to the side, pouting slightly.

"I didn't ask to be mentally stripped naked like a chicken," he reaches across to his bag and gives you his favourite brand of eyeliner, "I asked for some help with my makeup." So you untwist the cap and scrape the excess liquid off the rim. Holding your hand as steady as possible, you draw a thin, dark line along the crease of his eye, scolding him when he starts to squirm.

Note:

I am currently posting a few of my old works from Wattpad onto ao3, and now tumblr! Keep in mind that most of these are probably a couple of years old. And while they might make me cringe, as old writing tends to do, I don't think I'll ever rewrite any of them due to sheer laziness. I hope you enjoy reading these tho!

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

"Shit, Y/n. You're gonna stab my eye out," Mondo complains, flinching when you attempt to draw along his waterline. You dismiss his worries and press the end of the pencil against his lips as a signal for him to shut up.

"You don't need to act out. I know you're only behaving like this because you're too embarrassed that my face is mere centimetres away from yours." Your words leave a trail of red across his cheeks, and he defensively looks to the side, pouting slightly.

"I didn't ask to be mentally stripped naked like a chicken," he reaches across to his bag and gives you his favourite brand of eyeliner, "I asked for some help with my makeup." So you untwist the cap and scrape the excess liquid off the rim. Holding your hand as steady as possible, you draw a thin, dark line along the crease of his eye, scolding him when he starts to squirm.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Are you questioning my abilities?"

"Just makin' sure I don't become the Ultimate Clown."

You gasp, very offended. "You are so lucky that I just finished the top lid," you mutter under your breath. Any earlier and the eyeliner would be going to his forehead by now. He chuckles, obviously finding you cute. "For your information, the Ultimate Clown is a viable talent, and unless you're looking to cosplay, I suggest you stop moving before your eyes and eyebrow look fused." He hums, agreeing quietly and rests both of his hands on your hips.

"As much as I like seein' you bent over, I think it would be better if you were sitting down too." He pulls you into his lap, and you have to steady yourself before you swipe eyeliner across both of you. "Now you can see up close," he says, and you can already picture his imaginary tail wagging. You stare into his violet eyes; they're striking against the black eyeliner.

You plant a kiss on the tip of his nose and proceed to line his bottom lashline, flicking your wrist to draw the signature streak jutting out. Ignoring his flustered state, you finish lining the second eye like nothing's wrong. "You know, if you keep blushing, I'll have to skip the rest of the makeup," you comment on his flushed cheeks that were burning against your hand.

"I only ever do my eyes. My lips are feelin' a little dry, though." An obvious excuse, but you decide to play along. He reaches to retrieve the chapstick, causing the two of you to press flush against each other. The chapstick is swiftly swiped across your lips, and you smack them together for an even coat, but before you can react, Mondo tilts your head into a kiss. Your mouths move in sync perfectly, and he even licks your bottom lip before pulling away.

"Tastes like cotton candy," you mumble and then pause as it dawns on you. "Wait, is this the cotton candy chapstick they sell at the dollar store in the kids section?" You point frantically at the tube in his hand, remnants of rainbow polka dot paper still sticking to it.

He swears under his breath and tosses the chapstick to a random corner of the room. "Sticky labels and I don't get alo— wait, no! That was a normal tube of chapstick bought at a normal convenience store." He puffs out his chest, practically swelling with masculinity. "No man wears chapstick made for children, no matter how sugary and delicious it is!"

"Mhmm." You eye him warily, not buying his words for a second. "And the cotton candy flavour?"

"I-I, well..."

You flick his forehead, and his brows furrow in annoyance. "You're allowed to wear any kind of chapstick, Mondo. Nothing is specific to a type of person. If you want to wear chapstick that tastes like garlic, you can!" You pause and wrinkle your nose. "Just don't expect me to kiss you afterwards."

He smiles warmly and pecks your lips. Despite your insides melting, you manage to focus when he says. "It's not as sweet as the real deal. Wait," he kisses you again, longer this time, and nods his head solemnly, "yes, definitely much sweeter." And that's when you have to force yourself to calm down before your heart shatters your ribcage and bursts out of your chest, flopping onto the floor.

You grab a palette and a big fluffy brush, getting some powder to hide your embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tap the brush against the lid to shake off any excess before applying it. "You said I could do a full look today."

"Only cause I get to have ya on my lap for longer," he replies smoothly. It's surprising how far he's come. Don't misunderstand; he's still a total tsundere, but he's gotten a lot more confident in his flirting skills, something that's fatal to your heart every day.

You continue brushing, highlighting and contouring his face, not that his jawline needed any more definition. "You're staring," you state, self-conscious under his gaze.

"You should be glad that's all I'm doin'." He squeezes your waist to remind you where his hands are.

"I know, normally you would have self-combusted by now from embarrassment." You shift around, the sharp intake of breath from Mondo not going unnoticed.

He sighs, mostly out of frustration, and rests his forehead against yours. (AN: is it bad that I can't take this seriously since his hair would either be really awkward in this position or drill a hole through your head?) "You drive me crazy sometimes." His eyes stare into yours, and you find yourself getting lost in the endless violet pools.

"You don't seem to mind," you chuckle lightly, seeing how his face grew redder.

"You're right," he nods, "I find you absolutely adorable when you try to tease me." There was absolute honesty behind his words, and a critical hit strikes your heart. Embarrassed, you try to pull away, but he gently makes you face him. "I love you so much, y'know that, right?" You can only manage to stutter, and he laughs. "I don't let just anybody get all up in my face with a lethal weapon." The fluffy brush in your hand looks harmless enough, and so you snicker to yourself. "You're laughin' now, but just wait till someone tries to gouge out an eye or choke ya with one of those."

"I think I know why your hair is so big now," you say, trying your hardest to keep the laughter in. He raises a brow, and you giggle to yourself. "It's where you keep all your worries."

"Not secrets?"

"Mondo," you deadpan and stare at him, "you're terrible at lying."

"Bullshit."

"Then what about that time I came home, and suddenly we had a dog because 'the storks left him for us to raise'?" You notice his eyes shift to the side and his fingers fidget behind your back. You smile and shake your head. "You're so easy to read despite how menacing you can look," eyeing him for a second, you add, "definitely a total tsundere."

"N-no, I'm not!" He leans back in the chair and crosses his arms. "It's not like I like ya or anything," he insists, his tsundere tendencies kicking in.

"...." You raise your left hand. "We're married, Mondo. You can't play that card anymore."

"Well," he looks around, searching for something to say, "shit," he finally mumbles. And while he's distracted, you sneakily pull out a tube of lipstick and tint his lips a cherry red. Slipping the lipstick into your pocket, you lean back to see your masterpiece. You nearly fall off his lap and end up choking on your spit while holding in your hysteric screeching. "What? I swear, Y/n. If I look in the mirror and see a fuckin' clown starin' back at me, you're banned from doing my makeup."

"No, no." You take in a deep breath and exhale, but a chortle escapes from your lips. "You look absolutely stunning. There isn't a single biker gang leader on the same level of fabulousness as you."

"Y/n... Give me the damn mirror already." He holds out his hand expectantly, and you plop the compact mirror into it.

"So what do you think?"

"I absolutely hate it." He squints at the mirror and frowns. "What in the fresh hell is this? I look like some weird Jojo character." Clearly, he didn't appreciate your artistic choice to leave hard contour lines; the blinding highlights only made them stand out more. Not to mention the vibrant red clashed against his pompadour.

"Gee, thanks." You sniffled and wiped away an imaginary tear. "To think I managed to accentuate your good looks."

"This isn't funny, y'know. The guys are gonna give me crap if I show up to the garage like this."

"Well, then you can tell me that it's a work of art done by yours truly," you pointed to yourself. Contrary to popular belief, his gang feared you much more than they feared him.

"Is that your roundabout way of tellin' me I gotta keep this on my face for the rest of the day?"

"I would never force you," you raise your hands up in defence, "but if you voluntarily do, who am I to stop you?"

He lets out a huff of disbelief. "Tit for tat, I ain't gonna let myself be the only one embarrassed the whole day." Before you can say anything, he tilts your chin up and exposes your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. "Well, would ya look at that," he says and pulls back with a smirk, lips a few shades lighter than they were earlier. "Now everyone will know who did my makeup." Tingles run down your spine, and your neck feels like it's on fire. You hop off his lap and rush to the bathroom, and as you thought, there are red lipstick stains on your exposed skin. Today you wore a tank top as a countermeasure against the hot weather, but now you're regretting that decision.

"Mon—"

"Not a chance, my sweet. You're not gonna wash that off anytime soon."

"I have work in an hour."

"And I gotta lead my gang in a couple minutes." He stares at you indifferently. You got the message loud and clear, 'so what?' Or maybe he wasn't staring at you indifferently, and it was just the way you drew his eyebrows, hard to say.

Suffice to say, you ended up going to work with the embarrassing marks on your neck and collarbone, getting very blatant stares from passersby and colleagues. Despite it being utter hell, there was a part of you that enjoyed the markings that obviously told other people to back off, and after a long day, you came home to a disgruntled Mondo.

"Twenty," he said.

"I'm sorry, what?" you question, setting your keys down on the dresser as a ball of fluff energetically circles around your legs.

"That's how many people asked who I was cosplaying as." You turned to the coat hanger and slowly put away your coat, shoulders quivering. "I know you're laughing." Bursting out into laughter, you pick up the furbaby the 'storks' blessed you with and flop down beside him on the couch.

"At least they didn't call you a clown." You prop your chin against your hand, grinning up at him.

"That's not the point," he huffs. The tips of his ears turn red, and he mumbles, "I'm revokin' your makeup privileges starting today."

"Aw, c'mon. Give me another chance." You tug on his shirt and gaze at him with your best puppy-dog eyes. He mutters a curse and looks up at the ceiling with a sigh.

"You know I'm weak against those pretty little eyes of yours."

You bring your face closer, brushing your lips against his. "And what if I make it up to you?" you ask, your warm breath tickling him.

"That depends," he heaves himself off the couch and sweeps you into his arms, "on what ya had in mind."

"So I have to make it up to you so I can do your makeup again?" you say, imaginary cymbals going off in your head. He halts in his steps and gives you a disappointed frown. "I know, I know," you pretend to pull a zipper across your lips, "shut up before I ruin the moment." Mondo shakes his head and continues his trek to the bedroom.

The next morning you had a lot more than lipstick stains to worry about concealing before work started. Maybe you could get Mondo to help you with your makeup today.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

Damn, I forgot how much I love writing Mondo. This is the last work I have for Mondo, but fear not, reading these again has reawakened my interest.

It's not necessary, but it would be nice if you guys shared your thoughts on the story (this applies to all my works). It's just nice to know I'm not the only one squealing at all the fluff.

Reblogs are appreciated!

#danganronpa #mondo x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo owada #danganronpa x reader #AU - No killing game #fluff #domestic fluff #established relationship #banter #Mondo is a Tsundere #You unleash your artistic skills on Mondo's face #He does not appreciate the masterpiece you give him #gender neutral reader

[firenati0n]

2, 3, 6, 8, 9, and 19 for the asks! Or pick one if you don't have the spoons for all of them

hello dear anon! thank you for asking! <3

2. Describe your favorite pair of socks

they're knee high captain america socks, i love them sm. those and my bob ross socks that say "happy little accidents" with little trees all over. loveeeeee <3

3. Do you like smoothies?

i love a smoothie omg catch me blending everything in the kitchen bc i am LAZY. i love a fruit smoothie....or if I'm feelin silly I'll do banana / avocado / oat milk / honey :) :)

6. What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

answered here :) usually a receipt or a post it note tbh.

8. Do you collect anything? If so, what?

answered here :)

9. What sounds or scents calm you down?

answered here :) also was feeling Insane and Terrible so i played an angry rage mix and that was helpful in calming me down actually faksjdflkjasdf but usually i go for classical music or movie soundtracks to level myself out.

19. What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

either Swan Lake Barbie from my kindergarten days or my kim possible outfit from my red hair days. but i was a witch most years aljfdskljfa very low effort as a kid

thank you! these were nice to get my mind off things :) :)

#asks #answered #anon #ask game

[fruitpunchjollyrancher]

my shitty treatise on "ants from up there" and gale dekarios

this is the gale album of all time. and i WILL elaborate. (also warning im only posting this because i have been obsessed with this fucking album and gale for a WEEK and need it out of my brain. im probably not going to explain too many lyrics and i get nervous expressing my ideas because tbf to me it seems quite obvious but ofc i can explain, assuming anybody reads this post)

"Concorde" immediately stood out to me like oh this is so gale. i dont even think i need to explain how gale this is. the rest of the song is super gale too, i just don't want to include screenshots of the entire song

"Bread Song" has a LOT of worship imagery and also below alluding to appearing fine but rlly inside he is not well <3

oh my god. "Good Will Hunting". the mentorship but also wanting her to depend on him a little but it's unfeasible, weaving a whole life in his head that can never be because mystra will never see him as an equal... also the pre-chorus 👍 i am so well

"Haldern"... i literally dont know how to explain my feelings about this song in relation to gale pls someone tell me u see the vision

"The Place Where He Inserted the Blade" is more headcanon/my interpretation but im just gonna focus on the parts that i think everyone can agree on. first 2 lines arent super applicable to mystra but ig i can rationalize it as her being detached from the world/not rlly participating (i.e. why didnt mystra just stop the absolute herself (im aware its because ao doesn't like it when they meddle, im smoking that true forgotten realms pack trust me)). but the MAIN part of this song that is so gale to me is the vines breaking bones, bones heal, our school friends sign our cast on the playground, my body is yours. like holy shit being a chosen of mystra is a huge fucking deal and despite the pain it can cause (that he doesnt even notice because "tied me up slow with your vine stuff / it takes a few years") but it's definitely encouraged among wizards/mages in any circles he was in and by elminster ("we tell all our school friends / and they sign our cast in the playground"), then of course the last line breaks my heart. rest of the song is also rlly fucking good please listen to this album.

"Snow Globes" has more religious imagery but tbh i dont know precisely how i feel about it in relation to gale so im just gonna skip it

"Basketball Shoes" shows a more hopeful future but still #suffering because thats just how it is. concorde being mystra/his relationship to her tears his life to shreds, defines his life, leaving him with nothing. keeps seeing her everywhere (wizard stuff, his damn earring, he's always saying "by mystra" like bro you're intersecting at the market town on purpose atp (i get it)). i interpret the part after that line break (idk why genius doesnt just say its a different verse, don't quote me on this idk anything about music theory) as post-game where he's still Not Great but it's better and moving on, there is a future. doesn't look to mystra anymore (throughout album especially in good will hunting and bread song the s/o is mentioned through headphones, wifi passwords, phone calls, so "never look at our phones anymore" means he isn't thinking of her anymore or trying to curry her favor).

alsoooo should mention that i didn't include the part of "The Place Where He Inserted the Blade" that mentions a lunch metaphor in relation to panic attacks and possible cheating so the "feelin kinda normal with a packed lunch" is doubly meaningful, he isn't freaking out while making lunch anymore

this verse is tav (or whoever u romance as gale origin idgaf)/gale as he is trying to find a new object of devotion in his romance. "the clamp" could be many things, from reminders of mystra to all his perceived inadequacies to lost opportunity to become a god w/ the crown of karsus.

third section of the song im kind of undecided on w/ gale like we got the religious imagery again, could interpret "generous loan/crippling interest" as mystra's deal for him to return the crown of karsus in exchange for no orb. but yea idk yet

and that is the entire album (- chaos space marine, i didn't really think of anything related to gale when listening to it but it's still a great song, PLEASE listen to this album). so yeah if im horribly wrong on any of my takes be sure to send me hatemail k thanks bye

#to be fair i can't tell how much of this is me projecting onto gale #me 🤝 gale #pretentious ambitious probably autistic nerds who love with unspeakable devotion #anyways #gale dekarios #bg3 #Spotify #apologies for the first incarnation of this post #where i did not know how to add the “keep reading” thing #im new here ok

[allycat75]

Sorry, this one is long. But the subject has given much to work with.

Proof People's Sexiest Man Alive 2023 really does hate himself, just from other quotes in the SMA article:

"I feel like I have a bit more freedom to take time away from the industry and still find projects that will satisfy my creative appetite when I return" I am sure based on the phoned in performance from Ghosted and on the reviews of Pain Hustlers, it sounds like you must be starving.

"My mom will be so happy," he says. "She's proud of everything I do but this is something she can really brag about". How she feelin' about that incel group also being proud of you?

Of Boston "We've got a lot of good schools. Let's give education a plug, that's damn sexy." I have read the few interviews your "beloved" has given and never before have I read so much and someone said so little. But hey, eyebrows are sexy, too. You can probably talk about that.

 "I love the idea of tradition and ceremony, I had a lot of that in my life so the idea of creating that, I can't think of anything better." So I guess some new traditions are never being seen with your one and only without it being breadcrumbed and/or trolled, surrounded by a bunch of people, staged and scripted, all while you look miserable. Oh, and also talking about how you like to be alone and your dog is your soulmate.

Values most in a partner is "vulnerability and humility." I am sure your acting teaching family is thrilled she feels she is such a great actress that she doesn't need classes or coaching.

"I don't like to argue, I don't like to raise my voice, or any forms of manipulation," Yep, I know the feeling Christopher.

"It's wise and mature to be able to say "I'm sorry I made a mistake,' to be vulnerable and not always be looking for the argument or take things to an argumentative place. That takes a lot of maturity and I find that very sexy." I am sure that was the exact thought process when your baby posted her shower pic to deflect from the criticism she was getting for her problematic behavior. And did we miss the "sorry"? But only if it is accompanied by behavior change. Otherwise, it is just one of those pesky manipulations none of us likes.

 "I love love". And that is why you feel comfortable taking a big dump on it with this disaster. If you are faking it, you have made love a joke, but if by chance it is real, you have shown yourself to be the absolute worst partner ever.

"The tough questions, you know what I mean? I [asked] a lot of tough questions as a kid," he explains. "'God made everything everything?' 'Is the color red to you the same as the color red to me?' I was a high strung kid and emotional so I'm anticipating those questions to be loaded with a lot of anxiety. And I think [as a parent] not only can you give a good answer to the specific question, but the tools to navigate tough questions like that." I'll just let the reader mull this one over, but I am curious to know the possible answer if asked "Dad, what do I do if I am forced to fake marry someone who represents the exact opposite of everything I have claimed to want in a partner? It will require me to use my family and friends in dumb schemes and stunts that will distract them from their daily lives and make thousands of innocent people look and feel crazy. It may even cause me to compromise my integrity and core beliefs by aligning me with those who represent the most base of our society."

But in all seriousness, there are some huge red flags here and this is unsustainable for a normal, happy life. Please study the lessons of this disaster, because the real tragedy of this mistake would be to just move on. Get help from professionals and seek to understand patterns that you keep falling into. I find the ABC method works well:

Good luck!

#Spoiled meatball #SMA 2023