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sant-riley · 1 year

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[Random Task force 141 × gen z! member headcanons]

A/N: Reader goes by the codename Teddy in my writing! Along with she/her pronouns :) I am also extremely biased with Ghost so her main pairing is more towards with him compared to the others <3. I know absolutely nothing about the military so this is not accurate I am so sorry💀.

CWs: Dark Humor, Age gaps, Simping, crude humor, cursing. (not sure what else but lmk!)

Chances are, you're the youngest in the entirety of Task Force 141. Just a good couple of years younger than Gaz.

When Laswell brought her in to meet the group, they couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. A tiny girl who couldn't have been older than any of them. Soap couldn't help but chuckle while Ghost nudged him in the side to shut him up.

"This is your new rookie on the team, her callsign is Teddy. Treat her well."

All the men nodded, watching the younger woman shyly smile and wave towards them.

First they realized that her humor was, in Ghost's words, fucked.

Any minor inconvenience had her saying she wanted to be hit by a car or some type of bodily harm, Price quickly whirling around with eyes widened. "Now, I don't think that warranted that kind of response, don't you think?" "Oh it definitely did, Captain." And she'd walk away without another word.

He swears he gets gray hairs from everytime you make casual talk of you dying. He actively tells the others to check on you bc he genuinely don't know if you're serious or not.

Ghost is not up to date with shit, man uses no social medias oncesoever so everything she spouts is wildly out of pocket. References to basic things like tiktok, Twitter, Instagram? He just silently stares at you like you're on drugs. You can't really use your personal phone on base but you try your best to explain memes to him. He sighs and rubs his forehead with a groan of "I'm too old for this shit, teds." "Oh come on! You have to at LEAST know the meme about the marines eating crayons!" "What the fuck are you on about?

The only ones who know vaguely what the fuck you're on about sometimes are Gaz and Soap, despite them still being a few years older.

Granted, they are not caught up with everything but they actively make it a point on leave to try and be up to date bc of you and your mannerisms. Plus it makes you happy when they fire back a quote they learned.

Can yall imagine Soap on tiktok, what random shit he'd have on his fyp bc he doesn't know how the algorithm works 😭.

Teddy has made every single one of them a personal playlist when she does have her phone, Soap once caught her adding songs and hasn't stopped teasing her since. Price and Ghost pretend not to care and barks at Soap to leave her alone but they're equally curious. Ghost contemplates stealing her phone to see it.

Doesn't matter how serious or dark their job may be, you simp for fictional characters, loudly. Price has learned to tune it out, Ghost although slightly jealous, finds it endearing, Gaz and Soap indulge you and will actively ask about why you like the characters you do and how much you love them bc they like to see you excited. It's a nice feeling when they're always in life or death missions.

You're the smallest one in here okay, everyone can easily throw you without batting an eye so they all take turns training you! They all despite knowing you can take care of yourself, would still like to teach you all they know so should you come against a taller/stronger opponent, you'll be okay.

You are the most protected person in the entire squad, esp when going out for drinks, Ghost will put you in the middle between him and Price and basically make a wall of muscle around you. He says he doesn't care and that he just doesn't want to be pestered by creepy people coming up to you but he will literally stare down any man or woman who even tries. He is the creepy one in everyone else's scenario. Soap just laughs and tosses back his drink.

They all notice your ticks and tells, seeing your leg start to shake when you're anxious, when you start cracking your fingers when you're restless, how you will avoid eye contact at any cost. They start to find ways to soothe you in their own ways. Price will give you a pat on your shoulder, sending you a smile.

Gaz nudges you with his body to take your attention off the situation, or he'll simply start asking you random dumbass questions just to see your face change.

Soap will, if he has gotten permission before, just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, running around with you while you scream for him to let you go. Is also not against tickling you straight up to get you to smile.

Ghost tried to be as subtle as he can be. If yall are sitting close to each other, he'll make sure some part of his body is gently pressed against yours. Whether it be his foot, thigh, hand, some part of him will ground you. You try and reassure him that you know he doesn't care for personal touch but he just says to shut up.

Meeting Graves was a trip, for everyone involved besides you and Grave. Absolutely having no control over calling him a irl Fix it Felix. You were on Graves shitlist and honestly you wouldn't be surprised he betrayed yall for that one comment bc of how angry it made him.

Constantly being told to be quiet, but you cannot help it and will make little quips over comms. Ghost takes after you and starts to say horrible "dad" jokes that make you choke trying to hold back. Soap hates both of you and calls you unfunny.

They realize you're impulsive, especially when you show the amount of tattoos you have.

"I joined the military to fund my tattoo addiction." "You know what? That's not even a surprise."

Going home on leave is always a bitter experience, you never look excited to go home. So one of the guys (usually ghost) will offer you to come with them. It helps 3/4 all live somewhere in England so it's easy to see them/ take trips to their place.

They're all attached despite knowing better. They can't help it and they know they care for you so much more than other force members.

Ghost and Soap bristle when Alejandro makes a mention that he'd offer you a spot in his team, impressed with how you can take opponents twice your size.

"¿Te interesaría quedarte en México?"

"The Hell she will."

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

#okay this got rambley real quick but hey its my blog i can do what i want #ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #gaz <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #gen z!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #headcanon #kayla writes <3 #fem reader

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inklore · 6 months

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THEY WANTED TO KISS AND YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. YOU CAN'T. YOU. CANNOT. I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL.

#it was one of those we just went through something insane #is this real are you real #i want to touch you are you okay i want to kiss you just to make sure this is real #HELLLLLOOOOOO #SHUT UP #jordan x marie #jordan li #marie moreau #jordanmarie #gen v #gen v spoilers #if jordan looks at marie’s lips one more time i might actually fucking die bro #ʚ laurs art ɞ #THEMM <333

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gwynfahr · 6 months

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Jordan's an overstimulating queen, and a worshipping king, you can't convince me otherwise.

In female form, she will not stop making you come until you almost can't articulate your safe word anymore. Spurring you on by whispering an unending stream of "Come on, one more time", or "I know, just one more and then we can take a break" in your ear. She'll add some light degradation, fucking you roughly on her fingers.

In their male form, he changes completely, he's tender, he's praising the hell out of you. Of course, he's overstimulating you still, but he'll add compliments such as : "You're doing so well, baby" or "such a good fucking girl for me".

Either way, sex with Jordan Li is fucking mind blowing and you can argue with the wall if you don't think so.

#jordan li x reader #jordan li #gen v #jordan li smut #I want them your honor #jordan li headcanons #my looove #jordan li x you #you will be okay #I promise

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theloveinc · 1 year

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bakugo x reader - you have a fussy baby

(warnings: ooc, you have a baby and are called mama. no mention of pregnancy. written in bed)

There’s a part of Bakugo that always gets a little bit nervous when you call. A growing fear, one that’s not always the most reasonable, as he’s long since learned to stop guessing what it is he’ll have to answer to.

Usually, his worry is assuaged immediately by the chirp of your sweet voice, more often than not calling to ask about groceries, or the timing of his arrival home, or even just to say, “hey, sweetie. How are you?”

But as of late, with the stress of multiple new realities on his hands, the playing catchup of his returning back to work, it’s been—

“Katsuki,” your voice trembles on the receiver, the fuss of your hands practically audible too, “thank god. I’m so sorry, but—“

You whimper, there’s a wail, and his gut clenches, veins turning cold as ice with adrenaline like any and every other time he prepares, quicker than you know, to catch a villain.

“Fuck, babe?” his voice is raspy with the crack of worry, his eyes flitting about as if the crime is in front of him, the offender just across the line of the dark, moon-lit horizon. “Are you okay? Are you safe—“

You interrupt.

“I just can’t get him to sleep. I-I’ve tried everything,” there’s a hiccup from somewhere close by, the baby on your shoulder most likely, “but he’s not going down. I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s clean, he’s changed, he ate almost everything I had—“

“Hey,” he says sternly, dad-like, in a way you’ve almost never heard from him, and you halt. Bakugo looks around the empty streets he’s walking, the evening sky of a warm spring having now receded into chill. “I’ll be there quick, okay?”

And just as soon, he calls Kirishima to let him know he’s deviating from the patrol route.

Your son relaxes in his arms almost as soon as you set him down. Still in uniform, a sheen of sweat and dirt coating his body, he must smell like something comforting to the little babe as he stops crying just as fast, smacking his little lips into the sweaty shirt he now lays on.

You part from them, letting Bakugo take charge, the anxious tears stopped but still streaked down your cheeks, illuminated where you finally allow yourself to sit on the handsome blue armchair by the crib.

“Fussy shit,” Bakugo complains quietly, tearing one little snort of a giggle out of you as you gaze upon the two of them and wipe your nose, and at the same time, he gazes down at the baby with your eyes. “Wanted to make your mama cry, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, sinking down into soft plush, “I’m so sorry I panicked, made you come all this way for nothing.”

“Stop apologizing, baby. ‘S not nothing,” he replies. “You needed help, and that’s what I’m here for. I’m”—he almost says fuckin’ Dynamight, pausing to look at you when he changes his mind—“dad. I’m dad.”

You smile weakly, and he approaches, dipping down on one knee to let you give your finally sleeping baby one last goodnight kiss, your fingers gently curling his blonde bangs away from his forehead.

“Just needed your daddy, I guess. Right, little boy?”

Bakugo can’t help but smirk, pulling back carefully to gently put the baby in his crib. He whines as he goes down, stretching his little limbs out now that the swaddle has been discarded… and though he notices the way your fingers tighten into themselves in worry as you watch, he settles back into sleep almost immediately, barely a pause in between to confirm it.

In the new silence, you finally whisper. “You gotta go back? To work?”

“I’ll get Denki over here in an hour,” Bakugo nods, also whispering; the sound that comes out unfamiliarly quiet, but not all that unpleasant as he steps and turns back to you, one hand reaching out to smooth down the hairs on your neck. “He’ll let you rest. You got it til then, or should I wait with you?”

You wave him off, still seeming tired but already calm enough to turn on the night light and pick up the book you started way back when, maybe even before becoming a mom. “I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask for help again though, mama,” he leans down to give you your goodnight kiss before he finally has to go, reminding you of all the trust he has for you, too. “We’re all here to help.”

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugo #uhhhhh a draft I found #kinda #I added a lot #I wanted to write #I miss it #I’m lazy tho so no tags #can’t even remember what I wanted to say #but I hope it’s okay #will edit later if it needs it… lmk any typos #kids tw #caitie post #gen

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junosmindpalace · 3 months

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s/o asking dcst characters what hairstyle do they like the best on them? (like braid, low/high ponytail, bun, hair down, etc?) some fluff :)

preferably with senku, gen, ryusui, sai and tsukasa, but feel free to change the characters if you want to ^_^

thank you very much for you request!

a/n: if the premise didn't give it away...reader is implied to have long enough hair for styling in certain ways, but i did my best to be vague ;,)

SENKU: hair tied back.

-He’s not the type to care so much as to have a preference. Consciously, at least.

-But you spend loads of time with him in the lab, doing experiments or just spectating as he performs his own. Either way, most of your time with Senku is spent with your hair tied back.

-Whether it be a headband or hair clips or a hair tie, you’ve gotta have it outta the way when you’re in the lab. So for the most part Senku is accustomed to seeing you with your hair back.

-And as everyone knows, science is his greatest love. He loves doing experiments, he loves learning about science, he loves talking about it, he loves it when people indulge him in his rants and is able to talk about it unfiltered with the person on the other end not only being able to keep up, but add on to the conversation meaningfully.

-And you do all of that.

-The connection here is weird, but bear with it!!

-There is nothing more attractive to Senku than someone who is passionate, and can keep up with him, as his general company usually cannot. Someone who takes an interest in his interests, and are capable and witty--and kind.

-And because you spend so much time with Senku doing science related activities--going to museums, doing experiments, talking about theories, spending time in the lab--that big love of science sort of becomes synonymous with you.

-He starts seeing you just a little differently during all of those times when your hair is back; when you say something witty, when you laugh victoriously at a successful or aweful experiment, when you challenge his views with ideas of your own. When you best demonstrate your intellect and curiosity, all things that Senku finds leave a stirring in his chest and when he sort of views you at your most beautiful, your hair is tied back.

-So even though on the surface he really doesn’t care how you choose to wear your hair, subconsciously, he’ll always find you at your most beautiful when your hair is back, associating it with the thing that made him so attractive to you in the first place.

“I don’t really care.”

“Can you for once not be difficult?” You deadpan from behind your goggles. He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he responds to your question, keeping his eyes trained on the various beakers in front of him as he circles the counter they were sitting on. You huff as you approach the opposite end of the counter, lowering yourself to be at eye level with his engrossed gaze. “I mean--really? You don’t have any style that stands out to you?”

“Maybe if you randomly shaved it all off.”

“So you like buzzcuts?”

“I don’t care.” He repeats back, this time finally looking up to shoot you an irritated look through a slit in between two beakers, and you huff, muttering about how he’s no fun before getting back to the experiment at hand.

But when he’s certain you aren’t paying attention to him any longer, he lets his eyes find you again, and they linger as he takes in your features.

He can’t help but think back to your question as he does so, his mind simulating various styles he’s seen you wear your hair in almost like a makeover game.

They’ve all been nice, every single one he envisions in his mind. Some quirkier and more elaborate than he personally prefers in general, but still; nice.

The simulation ends in his mind's eye and he’s back to present day you, with your hair tied back as it often is with all the experiments the two of you work on, and he can’t help but think he has a certain appreciation he just can’t describe for it. All he knows is that he likes it and that it suits you it in a way that leaves his heart skipping a beat, and if he really had to answer your question, he’d probably say that he preferred this style.

GEN: hair down, framing face.

-It’s a more modern, glamorous preference, what can he say.

-It’s pretty stereotypical, but there’s a reason why it’s so appealing.

-He likes how perfect your hair looks, as if you came out of a dream.

-It just takes his breath away; of course you look gorgeous any time, but when you go out of your way to style your hair all shiny with delicate and elaborate pieces framing your face, his breath gets caught in his throat and he’s staring a little too much.

-It’s maybe because it’s more rare; you’re not always going to have the energy to style your hair so elaborately, so it’s more of a treat that he can’t help but appreciate. It’s a good kind of different. It only enhances your already gorgeous features and he can’t help but grow warm at the sight.

-He’s embarrassing, really. It’s soo obvious he has this preference, but it’s also endearing the way he can’t stop making heart eyes at you. He’s sooo fucking smug with himself when you hold his arm when you wear your hair so elaborately, as if he’s showing off a treasure chest of gold--though not even all the jewels in the world could amount to you.

-Also likes to twirl the framing pieces with his finger. He thinks he’s so slick, he tries to be 100% more charming. You just make him so nervous with how gorgeous you look, he feels the need to make up for his own feelings of inadequacy. Especially when other people also appreciate the look as well.

“So you think I’m ugly, then?”

“I never said that!”

You snort at his horrified expression, crying out defensively when you accused him of only finding you attractive with the glamorous hairstyles he had been dreamily going on and on about since you asked him, with his answer being a lot longer than you anticipated.

“I’m kidding! But really? I rarely style my hair like that.”

“I can’t help what I like.” He replies simply, leaning an arm back against the trunk of the tree the two of you were sitting against as he leans over to tug at the ends of your hair. “It’s grown out a bit.”

“Not like I can get a proper haircut in this era; or a glamorous look.” You state frustratedly, observing both yours and Gen’s primitive clothing slightly distastefully. It could be absolutely worse, but you miss your old, comfortable, stylish clothes along with the elaborate do’s you’d get done for special events.

Gen could only turn his brows up empathically and offer you a shrug, pulling his hand away from your locks of hair. “Haaah…well, what can you do?”

He stares at you from the corner of his eye, however, a playful smile dancing across his lips.

“You don’t need it, though. You look breathtaking all the time.”

You snort again and roll your eyes at the exaggerated compliment, but lean in closer so you could rest your head against his shoulder.

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Oh, you wound me.”

RYUSUI: he likes them all…but likes when you accessorize your hair.

-It’s criminal that you'd ask him such a question, really.

-When he absolutely ADORES all of them.

-Each one makes you a different kind of endearing that he just can’t get enough of, from simple, lazier looks to time-consuming and expensive do’s that make you look like you belong on the red carpet--which he always thinks you do, by the way (not to mention he funds all your trips to your stylist).

-He genuinely has to wrack his brain and pick apart all of your looks if you really insist on him answering the question properly. He thinks of all the updos, all the curls and waves and straightening, all the specific cuts…and he STILL can’t pick a favorite.

-Sorry, you can’t get much more out of him than that. He can go on and explain the appeal of each one if that's what it’ll take for you to realize what you’re asking isn’t so easy to answer.

-To satisfy you, however, he does say that he particularly loves it when you accessorize your hair in one way or another. He likes the creativity, and it just suits your hair type so well. Whatever it might be--pretty hair ties, any special head accessories, whatever--, he thinks it only enhances your already incredible look.

“Ryusui, I don’t care about all that. Can you please just answer properly?”

He gets where your exasperation is coming from, truly; after all, he’s the one having the most difficulty answering your question as he illustrates in detail what’s going on in his mind as he thinks, every hairstyle having its own charm that he adores.

“But how can I pick? I love them all!”

You frown at him for a moment before eventually sighing and shrugging your shoulders, putting your hands up in surrender as you sit down on one of the benches in his workroom. “Okay, fine. If you can’t choose, you can’t choose.”

“Exactly!” he says almost relieved, pointing the pencil he was using to make blueprints at you. But even so, he follows and takes a seat on the bench beside you and continues to go through that mental list of hairstyles he’s seen you wear as he leans his head back against the wall and eyes your strands of hair.

There’s a pause between the two of you for a moment before he says, with all the seriousness in the world: “But you know…I especially like when you accessorize them.”

You tilt your head to look at him and raise your brows. “Accessorize? With what?”

“With anything. Any way you wear your hair is gorgeous, but it’s somehow even better with something in it.” and as he says this, he brings the pencil he had been twirling between his fingertips up to your face, tucking it into the strands by your temple. You laugh when he pulls away, and he can't help but smile.

Yup, any accessory.

SAI: anything with a braid.

-He is SO flustered when you ask.

-And even more embarrassed when you insist he gives you a straight answer after he meekly responds that he loves every single one of your looks.

-And it’s the truth!!!

-But you still want a singular, concise answer, so he thinks, nervous that this might be some sort of test he has to pass.

-And like his brother, he truly can’t pick one specific look that he really likes.

-But then he spots a pattern when he reflects on looks that he’s really liked and realizes they all shared a common feature: they all had some sort of braid in them.

-Doesn’t care about the style, length, thickness, whatever. Whether it’s one big one or two small ones framing your face or your entire head braided, he loves them. He loves the variety, and in general he just finds the design so beautiful.

-He doesn’t admit it when he answers your question, but he finds himself even more in awe of your hair if the braids in one way or another are accessorized. A ribbon, a bandana, whatever, he thinks it adds to the look tenfold. But he thinks just the simple braids on their own look gorgeous.

“If this is another one of your tests--!”

“I promise it isn’t! Can you please just answer?”

He stares at you expectantly, and a little bit nervously, as he tilts his head away from yours.

“I mean…” he starts carefully, still not fully convinced by your words. “I like them all…”

You give him a look that tells him you aren’t convinced by his words, and he finds himself getting irritated again from the (completely unnecessary) pressure of the question. “It’s the truth!”

“Yeah, but! Don’t you have one specifically?”

“I don’t know…”

You huff, frustrated by his lack of response, and take a step away from him. He mentally sighs in relief over being free from the hounding. “Not even one?” You try for the final time. He pursues his lips and thinks on your question again.

He likes that one time you wore your hair up; he really liked that one. And then that other time you had a sort of half up half down. And those unique buns were also pretty nice...

And as he continues to reflect on instances where he found himself doing a double take over your hair, he realizes that all of them share one detail in particular.

“Braids.”

“Hm?”

“I like…when you wear braids.”

Not actually expecting a genuine answer, you can only stare and blink at him. His face grows warmer at the blank eye contact, pink rising up his face at your lack of a reaction. “What?!”

“Nothing! I just didn’t expect that.”

But after your initial shock, you can't help but smile at how bashful he is over his answer, and he only grows even more exasperated (and embarrassed) when you now badger him about which specific braid styles he likes best.

TSUKASA: low styles, specifically hair down.

-It’s simple, but it's the simplicity that’s so beautiful to him.

-He likes to be able to touch your hair one way or another, whether by patting your head, twirling the strands or raking his fingers through the locks, and having it in an updo or some sort of elaborate hairstyle means he cannot do that. Doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like them of course! But if he were to have a favorite hairstyle, it’s a more casual one.

-There isn’t all that much to it. He isn’t one to find a specific style uglier or superior, but he likes that this specific style is so versatile; it doesn’t necessarily have to be open either. Whether it’s in a low hairstyle like a bun or a ponytail, he just likes the lower styles better.

“What hairstyle do you like best on me?”

It’s quiet in the classroom the two of you are sitting in, most of the students simply lounging and drifting around as they wait for their next class to begin. You and Tsukasa respectively lean your arm against your heads to bring them closer together, faces only inches apart as you talk lowly among each other. A little break to catch up after spending the busy school day mostly apart.

He watches you as a finger circles around a stray strand of your hair, brows ever so slightly creasing together. “Hairstyle?”

“Yeah, like…do you prefer my hair in buns? In waves? Think I’d look good with an undercut?”

He glances at the hair curled over his finger and framing your face, thinking to himself for a moment as he mulls over the question in his head. “I like your hair right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it down.” he mutters with a small smile, twisting the soft strands between the pads of his fingers, reveling in the sensation and watching the curl it creates bounce.

“You don’t like waves, or a cut of some kind or…?”

“I do. But you said to pick one, right?”

And with all the love and attention he’s showing your hair as he delicately cards his fingers through the strands, you can’t help but smile and hum in validation, satisfied enough with his answer. Enjoying the relaxing sensation of your hair being played with, you rest your head down on the desk, and he smiles at your content expression.

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paperdoll201 · 4 months

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‿୨♡ Ｉｗａｎｎａｍａｋｅｙｏｕｆｅｅｌｇｏｏｄ ♡୧‿

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Summary: None this is just pure smut

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‿୨♡ １８＋ＭｉｎｏｒｓＤｎｉ（ｉｓｔｇ）♡୧‿

Marie's body was bent in half over the arm of Jordan’s couch, her fingers gripping tightly onto the cushion as Jordan pounded into her with wild abandon. Her moans and gasps filled the dorm, mixing with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. At this moment, all thoughts and worries disappeared from her mind, replaced with the primal pleasure coursing through her body.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh- fuck Jordan!” she exclaimed, her voice raw with need and pleasure. Jordan continued to thrust into her, his hands gripping her hips as he rode the wave of ecstasy with her.

Jordan was grunting from behind her, beads of sweat trickled from his forehead as he watched his dick move in and out rapidly from Marie's pussy. He was in a fucking trance. Jordan's face was contorted with pleasure and exertion, his muscles tense and glistening with sweat. His eyes were fixed on Marie's body, watching his own movements with intense focus. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, Marie's moans and gasps mixing with Jordan's grunts and exclamations of pleasure. The squelching and wet noises of their bodies moving in unison added to the symphony of their passion. The sound of Marie's squelching pussy was fucking hypnotic to Jordan.

Marie and Jordan were going to a party- well they were supposed to. Jordan had sat on their phone, scrolling through their instagram as they waited for Marie to finish getting ready from their bathroom. But when Marie finally came out, wearing that tight little dress that hugged her body so fucking perfectly- fuck.

“How do I look?” she smiled at them so innocently, giving a small twirl for them. And god- her ass was peaking out a bit from the bottom. Jordan eyes darkened as their eyes raked over her body. They smiled as they made their across the room in three large steps to her before lifting Marie, throwing her over their shoulder. Yeah, they weren’t going to no fucking party tonight.

As the intensity of the moment escalated, Jordan could feel his orgasm building, his hips bucking faster and harder with every thrust. Sweat dripped from his forehead and onto Marie's back, their skin glistening under the dim dorm room light. He could feel her pussy muscles clenching around his dick, urging him on.

"Oh God, Jordan, fuck me, harder," Marie gasped, her voice breathy and pleading. Jordan didn't need a second invitation, his thrusts becoming rougher and more desperate. Her moaning grew louder, and her body shook with each powerful surge of his hips. Jordan bent down, snaking his arm around Marie's neck and pulling her closer into his embrace. He kissed her passionately, their tongues dancing in a frenzy as they lost themselves in the moment. He was able to fuck her deeper from this new angle

"Oh- ngh oh shit Jordan I can't take it-" Marie gasped between his hard thrusts.

Marie's nails dug into the arm of the couch, her body trembling as she prepared for the impending climax. She could feel the pleasure building within her, her pussy clenching around Jordan's throbbing dick with each intense thrust. Her moans and cries of pleasure reached a fever pitch as the moment of release approached.

"You can take it baby. You've been doing so well for me Marie," Jordan grunted into her ear, nipping at her earlobe. "Take my fucking dick."

Marie's body arched off the couch as Jordan's fingers found her clit, rubbing and teasing it in perfect rhythm with his deep thrusts. The combination of sensations was too much for her to handle, and she felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Jordan, I'm gonna come," she moaned, her voice filled with desperation and pleasure.

"Come for me baby," Jordan growled, his own voice strained with need. He could feel his own release building, but he wanted Marie to come first. He wanted to make her feel good, to show her how much he desired her. He fucked into her harder, hips slapping against Marie's ass ferociously satisfied with the jiggle and the moans it elicited from her. Jordan dropped his arm from around her neck, grabbing both of her wrists with one hand other hand resting on the small of her back as he continued to fuck her from behind.

Marie's breaths were shallow, her body trembling with anticipation as she felt Jordan's every move. With a sharp intake of air, she arched her back, her head falling back to rest against the cool wall. Jordan's hand on her back sent electrifying pulses of pleasure through her, guiding her hips to meet his thrusts with wanton abandon. Jordan's grip on her wrists tightened, his fingers digging into her skin in a possessive manner that sent shivers down her spine.

With one final deep thrust and a flick of his fingers against her clit, Marie exploded in a mind-blowing orgasm. Her body shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over her, and she cried out Jordan's name over and over again. Her pussy tightened around him, milking him for all he was worth as she rode out the intense orgasm.

“There you go baby— fuck you’re so fucking tight.” Jordan groaned at the way Marie clenched even harder at his words. Feeling Marie's body quivering beneath him triggered Jordan's own climax. With a few more hard thrusts, he grunted as he spilled himself inside of her, filling her with his hot seed. They both collapsed in a sweaty heap on the couch, trying to catch their breath after such an intense experience.

After a few moments of silence, Jordan pulled out of Marie, lifting her and wrapping her body around them. She turned to face him, giving him a long passionate kiss as he walked with her to Jordan’s bed. She felt them shift as they lowered her onto their bed, their body becoming smaller in her arms.

Jordan wrapped her arms around Marie’s body, pickering kisses alongside her jaw, over her neck, and down the valley of her breasts. Jordan ran her hands down Marie's body, hands gripping Marie's thighs.

"Good for another round baby?" Jordan grinned at Marie, already making her way down to rest her face in between Marie's thighs.

Jordan didn't wait for an answer, tongue already shoved into Marie sopping cunt, lapping away at their fluids mixed together. Marie moaned in pleasure, her hands tangling in Jordan's hair as she lifted her hips to meet her mouth. Jordan's tongue worked expertly, flicking and swirling around Marie's clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body, eagerly swallowing Marie’s juices and her cum from her pussy. Marie writhed beneath Jordan's touch, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

"Oh god, Jordan." Marie whimpered, back arching from the bed.

Jordan continued to devour Marie's wetness, her fingers finding their way inside of her and pumping in and out. Marie's moans turned into screams as the pleasure built up inside of her, almost too much to handle. She was on the edge of release when Jordan suddenly stopped and crawled up Marie's body, kissing her passionately.

“Fuck, why?” Marie whined against their mouth, bucking against them. "I want to sit on your pretty face," Jordan whispered against Marie’s lips before plunging her tongue back into her mouth. Marie could taste herself on Jordan's lips and it only turned her on more. Their bodies pressed together, breaths mingling as they explored each other.

"Yes please, tit on my face" Marie moaned in between kisses. "Please Jordan, I need it"

Jordan grinned against Marie's lips, loving the way she was begging for them. She quickly straddled Marie's face, her wetness dripping onto Marie's waiting tongue. She slowly lowered herself on Marie’s face, clit brushed against her nose. Marie moaned against Jordan's sex, the taste of her driving her wild.

Jordan began riding Marie's face, moving her hips in sync with the movements of Marie's tongue. She grabbed onto the headboard for support, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that flooded through her body. God Marie was always so fucking good at eating Jordan out. The way she moved her tongue against her clit— it was just so perfect.

As Marie continued to devour Jordan's wetness, she reached her hand down to rub her own aching clit. She needed release just as much as Jordan did. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, each one driving the other closer and closer to their peak.

With a cry of pleasure, Jordan came first, her body shaking as Marie's tongue worked its magic on her. Marie moaned against Jordan's sex, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through her own body. She quickly followed suit, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

They collapsed onto the bed beside each other, panting and trying to catch their breaths. After a few moments of silence, Jordan turned to face Marie with a mischievous grin.

"One more time, baby?" Jordan smiled, straddling Marie's waist, slowly grinding her wet pussy on Marie's body.

"Jesus Jordan, fuck it's been over an hour," Marie groaned, raising an arm to cover her eyes. Jordan always had a high sex drive, Jordan made sure Marie knew this on a regular basis because they fucked her on a regular basis. Multiple fucking times a day.

Jordan laughed softly, shaking her head. "I can't help it, baby," Jordan whispered, tracing her fingers over the curves of Marie's body. "I just really love how fucking good you make me feel." Jordan wrapped an arm around Marie's waist, pulling her closer kissing her passionately. "I love how good I can make you feel." Jordan moved her lips to Marie's neck, her lips brushing against Marie's ear as she whispered, "You're mine, and I never want to stop exploring every inch of you."

Marie shivered at Jordan's words, her heart fluttering in her chest. They had been together for a year now, and their love had only grown stronger with time. Nothing in this world compared to the way they felt when they were together, as if they were two halves of the same whole.

Jordan's lips found Marie's again, and their kiss was as passionate before Jordan lined her pussy over Marie's heaving mound, their labia touching, their breaths growing ragged. She grinded her clit into Marie, their wetness blending together as they moved in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jordan groaned, her hands reaching up to massage her own tits. Marie moaned, her nails digging into Jordan's back. Her hips bucked upward, meeting Jordan's with a hunger that took the air from her lungs. The room echoed with the sounds of their fucking, the slickness of their bodies sliding against one another, and the ragged, desperate breaths they exhaled in each other's mouths.

As they continued to grind against each other, Jordan's fingers moving to curl around Marie's clit, their bodies seemed to melt together. Their moans filled the air, punctuated by heavy breaths and slaps of flesh. Jordan smiled as she felt Marie's body tighten around her, her organization reaching its peak.

"Fuck, Jordan," Marie whimpered, her hips bucking wildly beneath Jordan's wonderful touch. "Oh god, I'm close."

Jordan watched as Marie's face flushed, her eyes rolling back into her head. She could feel Marie's pussy convulsing around her fingers, the walls tightening and releasing with each throb.

"I'm coming," Marie gasped, her breaths shallow and fast. "Oh fuck, I'm coming."

Jordan could feel Marie's orgasm wash over her, the heat of Marie's body around her, the intensity of her pleasure radiating through her own. They moved in sync, their bodies joined together, their love and desire for each other palpable in the room.

Jordan continued to grind into Marie, her fingers never leaving her clit. She could feel Marie's cunt convulsing around her as Jordan reached her own orgasm. The scent of their arousal filled the air, mingling with the sound of their breathless moans and the squelching noises of their bodies moving together.

As the intensity of Marie's orgasm ebbed, Jordan slowly pulled her fingers away, their bodies still pressed tightly together. They lay there, panting, sweaty, and spent. Jordan couldn't help but smile as she brushed a lock of hair away from Marie's face, her heart swelling with love and gratitude.

"You good babe," Jordan whispered into Marie's ear, leaving kisses on both of Marie's cheeks.

Marie smiled, laughing a bit at the ticklish feeling of Jordan's soft kisses on her face. Marie turned to face her. "I'm great actually" Marie sighed happily, her mind empty from being fucked silly.

Jordan smirked laughing a bit from Marie's expression. They shifted into their male form, dick already half hard again.

"Perfect." Jordan grinned, sitting up on the bed and moving Marie into their lap. "Let's go again!"

"Jordan, no."

____________________________________________________________

so was gonna drop chapter 3 of Disguise last night but when I went to just read over it again for last-minute edits, half of the fucking chapter was gone???? My dumbass wrote it on Pages on my MacBook and i somehow deleted it? Spent hours trying to find it but its gone soooooooooo there's that.

Had this in my drafts, was gonna drop this in between chapters 3 and 4 of Disguise for funsies but dropping it now in lieu of chapter 3!

Am annoyed but its whatever. Chapter 3 will come out a bit later (or never cause wtf)

I also have another fluffy one-shot that I will drop later today.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE ❤️✨😍

#gen v #marie moreau #limoreau #jordan li #jordan li x marie moreau #mariejordan #marie moreau x jordan li #jordanmarie #jordan x marie #no plot just sm*t #im going insane #im not okay #limoreau fic #gen v jordan #gen v marie

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17isrighthere · 6 months

Text

some of u care too much abt who listens to what im sorry

#liking nct/skz/4th gen isnt a personality trait nor is also hating them (very popular on tumblr.com)#'skz/nct make such bad music' okay do u want a medal should we invite f(x)

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fbfh · 10 months

Note

could you write some love sick eddie? i just got some really bad news and i need him rn

yes ofc babes!!!! I love you and Eddie loves you and I hope everything's okay!!!<333

one thing about love sick eddie is that he notices every motherfucking thing about you. he can sense when you're even a little bit off. when he meets up with you to walk you to your car, bounding over to you like aa golden reriever, he immediatley senses that something is wrong. he stops in his tracks, shifting seamlessly from excited and playful to attenive and open and concerned.

"hey hey, what's wrong? you okay?" sure he'd be happy to go all crazy feral on whoever made you upset, really live up to his reptuation as a scary dangerous freak, but right now he's more concerned about you and making sure you're okay. you don't know what it is about eddie, about how sincere he is. it's like there's no bullshit with him, he's so open and sincere and vulnerable all the time, it makes you crack. you can feel you expression change as you're about to cry, and eddie looks at you like you're a little baby bird. he wants moe than anything to hold you, to comfort you and make sure you're okay, but the last thing he would ever do is overstep or make you uncomfortable. but he doesn't have long to worry about that, since you step forward, extending your arms just enough for him to realize you want him to hold you too. he doesn't hesitate, scooping you up tight in his sturdy arms, holding you close against his warm body. you grip onto him tight as you start to cry, shaking against him. his denim vest is softer than you expected it to be, and you can feel the rough stitches of the patches he'd sewn on by hand. he smells like he usually does, vaguely of weed and cigarettes, but there's something a little musky when you're this close to him, something you can only describe as eddie, and it's even more soothing than you could have imagined.

"okay, there we go. it's alright, sweetheart. okay? let it out, I'm not going anywhere." His voice is so soft, you can't help but cry even more. he doesn't tell you to stop crying, doesn't try to pry information out of you, he just holds you. he rubs your back, his big warm palms flat on your back and cradling your head. he's there for you in the most unconditional way. when you start to feel a little better and finally pull away, he looks down at you so tenderly it makes your heart ache. he holds your face, wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs, and looks at you closely to try and determine how you're doing. you notice a few people staring at you behind him, and he follows your gaze.

"okay, let's..." he stays close to you, bringing you over to his van. he helps you into the roomy - only slightly messy - back. you watch him stick his tongue out as he leans over, shoving his keys in and turning on the radio. he turns up the volume enough so anyone passing by won't hear what you're saying. it's a level of thought and consideration that no one has given you before, and it makes you feel even more at ease. you let out a shuddering sigh as he takes your hands, playing with your fingers.

"...you wanna talk about it?"

if you do, he'll listen and cry with you and help you figure out what to do. if you don't, he'll hold you or drive around with you until you start to feel better. either way, eddie, your eddie, is going to be there no matter what.

#drabbles #eddie munson #eddie munson drabbles #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things drabbles #lovesick eddie #loud simp eddie #I LOVE YOU TO PIECES BABES #EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE OKAY!!!!!! /GEN #ILY AND I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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bearlytolerant · 6 months

Note

Sooooo, are you still taking writing prompts? What about a Starborn PC (aka Shephard) heading into Nishina station and Sam can’t figure out what the hell she’s so worried about? I’m heading in there NG 6 and it’s just such emotional whiplash, depending on how you play. Sweet Jesus, the angst/comfort/smut potential….😁

Love your fics so much, thanks for sharing!

Fandom: Starfield

Pairing: Sam Coe x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2135

🌟Note: Contains Main Story Spoilers🌟

the world can wait

You’ve done this before. More than once. It’s not complicated but it is tedious. Worth it to save both realities again and again. Shifting between the sterilized facility with robot defenses and its survival horror counterpart, complete with alien monstrosities. You make quick work of it all, overriding the obstacles blocking your way to get to the lab. To the artifact.

Only this time, Raphael’s body in the sterilized reality doesn’t contain the slate that’s needed to save everyone. Padding him down, you check every pocket, sleeve, boot, anything you can find. But there’s nothing.

“Shit, Raph, where’d you put the damn slate?” The search spreads wider.

You rifle through lockers and under desks and chairs. You even check the bathroom. Maybe he dropped it behind the toilet? But it’s nowhere to be found and time is ticking. Shifting back to the reality colored apocalyptic horror, you find Raphael, alive and well.

“Hey, do you have the slate?”

“What slate?” he asks and his confusion has your stomach in knots.

“The one with the degaussing instructions.”

“I don't have that.”

If only you’d taken time to memorize it. The regret pools in your gut. Learning the hard way, again.

With a sigh, you thank him and head back to the sterilized reality. At the very least, you can save this version. But new questions arise in your head with the turn of events. Is it a mercy to leave Raph, protecting him from the crushing weight of being a sole survivor? Or will he slowly starve to death, coming back for you in another universe, angry and vengeful?

There’s no time to dwell. You make your choice. Scientists over Raphael.

You disengage every power interlock as quickly as you can. Power down the central control and grab the artifact.

Spinning and swirling and swimming in a sea of stars, the unity touches your mind, showing you the latest thread spun in your particular tapestry of fate.

You wake up, only one thing on your mind.

Sam.

Did this new decision cause a disruption or a disconnect? Will you leave Nishima and find him standing just outside the facility where he said he’ll be?

How badly is this world fucked?

Panic rises, festering and oozing out through your sweating palms. You fret and fumble, stumbling your way back to the main entrance. You don’t even bother to check up on the scientists. They’re obviously fine. Their thank yous roll off your back as you pass them by. You see the exit.

The door hisses and it feels like an eternity before they pull apart enough for you to squeeze through, eyes searching for the place he should be.

“Sam?” You call, your voice dry, rough and cracked.

But he’s not where you left him.

Your heart races. You’re mumbling “no” under your breath, over and over again, like a penitent sinner. Pleading with the heavens, and bargaining with the stars.

“Sam!” You scream.

His name is a choked back sob burning at the back of your throat.

“You better be here,” you croak, eyes searching the horizon and all the places around you.

He shouldn’t be back at the ship but what if he is? What if he’s safe? A glimmer of hope. You need to see. Need to know.

You take another step forward, the tears drying as you tell yourself that he’ll be there.

But then that little worm named worry inches in, whispering to you, what if he isn’t? Then you’ll have to explain to your crew mates. Explain to Cora.

Oh, no—Cora.

You slump to your knees, the voice of worry growing louder. A cacophony of horrible what-ifs brings your heart rate up so high your hands are shaking. You can’t go back to the ship without him. You can’t—you won’t. You know you haven’t searched everywhere. There's one last place before you’ll give in and go to the ship, to face whatever might be waiting there. So you turn around, retracing your steps back to the facility, heading up the stairs and toward the cliff edge. You pass by a tree on the right and pause to watch as the sky awakens in an ambient peach glow. It’s beautiful but it’s not Sam. You hang your head, hopeless.

“Oh Sam,” you whisper to yourself. “Where are you?”

A hand on your shoulder has you reeling around, gun in your hand.

“Whoa, whoa! You alright there, darlin,?”

Sam.

He’s okay. He’s okay! The weight lifts off you and just one look into his baby blues is enough to carry you down from that panic driven high.The air is breathable again as you toss your gun aside, throwing your arms around Sam’s neck. You cling to him, fingers grasping at the bare skin of the back of his neck, tears flowing freely down your face. “Where were you? I looked everywhere and you weren’t—you weren’t—“

Then your hands are on his cheeks, fingers to his lips as your eyes map out the entirety of his face. You wrap your arms around his midsection and squeeze, ear pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum inside your head.

He holds you tight, smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Shh, I’m right here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Again.

“You haven’t lost me,” he says. “I’m here.”

He gently removes your hands from his neck and holds them, studying your face.

You grasp his hands tightly, and bring them to your lips. One kiss for each knuckle and one kiss for each scar. Then you flip his palms over and kiss those too.

The lines of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. “You okay? Need to talk about what happened in there?”

You shake your head. You’d rather forget it all.

“I just—I need you.”

“Okay,” he says in his familiar and calming drawl. He presses his lips to your forehead. “Okay.”

You lift your chin, searching his eyes. Drink up his soft and gentle smile. Then you kiss him. Deep and devoted. His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roving your body, urgent and insatiable.

You back him against the nearby tree, out of sight for anyone that might come along. No one will, though. You’re confident of that. It’s just you and him and the wide expanse of land meeting sky embracing the two of you in a morning haze.

Your fingers are undoing his belt buckle and his hands slide up your back, to your shoulders and then cup your face. His eyes are askance of your audience.

“We don’t—you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not a matter of obligation. But of want. Of need,” you tell him.

It’s a matter of finding some solace in the sighs you can invoke. You want to hear him, revere him, touch him. Immerse the entirety of your essence in him.

“Who am I to protest then?” he says with a chuckle.

How you’ve missed that. Missed him. Those few moments without him were just minutes but felt like days—no millennia.

His belt buckle loosens. Button unsnaps.

You relish in the soft zip mixed with the quiet hush of wind at your ear, kneeling before him as the supplicant pilgrim. He’s already shirking out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground beside you. Your fingers inch under the hem of his shirt, exploring the skin of his body and brushing over the hair of his belly. Sprawling hands out to his sides, finger pads pressing into the black inked tattoos, you rest your forehead against him.

Three deep breaths and you’re grounded for a moment.

One of his hands pets your head, soothing and calming before you press your lips to his belly button. Plant a plush path of kisses down to the elastic of his boxer briefs. Then you dip your hand past the band, tugging, and freeing his cock. Gently you massage his balls, while wrapping your other hand around his length. You pump once, careful not to pull the sensitive skin.

He murmurs something sweet, calls you darlin’ as you slide your hand down his shaft. You lick your lips as you eye his excited cock, bobbing slightly and eager. You kiss the veins and make use of your tongue, testing and tasting. Having a bit of fun.

With satisfaction, you envelope him with your lips.

He shudders under the sudden shock of warmth from your mouth; a flood of sensations to his nerves. You draw him in deeper, massaging him as you delight in his tip touching the back of your throat. You pull free, with a smack of tongue to lips while releasing his balls. A string of saliva catches fractals of light as you swipe it from your bottom lip, glancing up to meet his adoring eyes.

“You’re a sight to behold,” he says, voice deep and gravelly.

He doesn’t realize that he’s the true sight to behold. But you will show him. Show him that he’s all that and more.

You close your eyes, those words washing away all that worry. Lips pressed to his tip, you open your mouth wider to be filled with the entirety of him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck. Your other hand, snaking around his ass and gripping, steadies you as he hisses a profanity.

His hand has slipped from your head to the back of your neck where he holds you tenderly. Though his cock twitches and hips jerk, begging to thrust, he remains self-controlled.

Your own arousal heightens under his strained moans and self suffocated cries. And you take more of him. More of those muffled sounds and praises that keep tumbling out of his mouth with every lick of your tongue. Every languid drag.

You quicken the pace, driven by the urge to please him and a bit of precum spills. You withdraw, lapping it up with a lewd swipe of your tongue.

Stealing another glance up at him, his eyes are closed, head falling back against the tree bark and that self control wavers with a desperate, “please,” and squeeze of your neck.

You oblige happily, losing yourself to his shudders and sighs. Ravishing his length in your mouth, setting a rhythm that pushes him to the precipice, guides him to the edge. His nails dig into your shoulder as you draw him in and out of your mouth. One great sigh and the grip of his hand loosens. Salt and warmth slide down your throat and you still your lips, gently sucking the remainder of his spend.

You swallow each and every last drop. With one last suck before release, his hands pull you away, drawing you up to his lips as he bends over you. Kisses you, urgent and besotted. After a few moments lost in the taste of one another, you break apart. Breathless. Come together again in a desperate embrace. Suspended in time, the sky brightens to almost blinding within the next hour. You never want to let him go. But the others will start to wonder. Unless—

“We should get back,” you say. “We need to check on the others.”

“Why?” Sam asks, tucking himself away and adjusting his pants. He buckles his belt.

“I had to do things differently this time—in Nishina. It’s why I was so worried I couldn’t find you. I was terrified something happened and—what if that something happened to the others—to Cora.” There’s that little flutter of panic again.

“Shh,” he says, pulling you back against his chest. “They’re alright,” he reassures.

“How do you know?”

He pulls away, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “I’ve already checked in on them through the comms. They’re okay. We’re all okay.”

You can feel the moisture in the corner of your eye but you wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your forehead, then your cheek. Finally your lips. “Immensely and totally.”

And you know this in every fiber of your being but it is a relief to have it spoken. After everything.

You snatch up his jacket from the ground and dust it off. Hold it open as he stuffs an arm in, shirking it back on. Taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it once.

“I love you Sam Coe, and when we get to a quieter place, I’m going to spend a whole day showing you just how much.”

“Holding me hostage for a day, then?”

“Make that a week.”

With a chuckle and squeeze of your hand, he says, “I’m all yours, darlin’.”

And together you find your way back to the ship.

#bear replies #bear writes #prompt fill #sam coe x reader #starfield spoilers #starfield fanfic #entangled #smut #also this is my first time posting a gen reader fic so I hope it’s okay #and I hope this suits your prompt well enough #thank you for the prompt and the sweet compliment

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khaleesiofalicante · 4 months

Text

LBAF & Etymology etc

Happiest of Name Days to Vicky. Here is a little treat for you @fangirlingismygame because I love you so. 💙

There is a tradition started by Diego and Cristina in the Rosales family where the children are named after the letter A. Cami and Theia were almost named Athena and Aurora respectively.

Gwen was named by Lance as such because Lancelot and Guinevere is one of the first love stories David taught Lance.

Joan and Atlas don’t have a middle name. Cami and Arjun’s middle names are Rosales and Iris’ middle name is Jazmín.

Iris was named after the particular flower because it’s the flower Mallory left over Selena’s ‘grave’ when she buried her under the snow in LBAF IV. Gabriel picked it because it’s the flowers that helped them find and save Selena during that day.

While Joan was named after a combination of Jonathan and Julian, she is also named after Joan of Arc - who is in fact considered a national and feminist hero in France.

The name Madeleine derives from the biblical character Mary Magdalene.

It's mentioned that Joseph and Madeleine are the 'It Couple' in the Clave. Their ship name used to be Belleheart (Bellefleur + Goldheart) meaning beautiful heart.

Régine’s middle name was going to be Davina, a female variant of the name David. Madeleine and Joseph kept it as secret to reveal it to David after she was born, but Madeleine ended up not naming her daughter that way.

The name Silverstone (Lance and Arthur’s school) is based on a Formula 1 Grand Prix in the England.

Harry’s surname Anh (Vietnamese) means intellectual and bright.

Arthur names all the animals he cares for and brings home after characters from his school plays and favourite musicals.

The Lightwood-Bane, because of Max and David’s mundane wedding and now mundane life, is one of the only names that is registered and documented accordingly to mundane law. It means mavid family can vote in mundane elections - among other things.

Prince of Darkness is a name actually used to refer to Lucifer in Manichaeism (a former major religion during the the 3rd century). Prince of Darkness, in LBAF, was inspired by the Shakespearean quote in King Lear (Act 3 Scene 4) “The Prince of Darkness is a gentlemen” hinting that devil will disguise himself as a good man in order to deceive you.

The Crimson King, in several interpretations, refers to a malevolent and evil force - including in Stephen King’s Dark Tower Series.

Both Iris and Hermes are names of two famous greek gods both known for being messengers.

Hermes last name Cain is similar to most warlock names - single syllable and has a dark/sad meaning. Cain refers to ‘first murderer’ from the bible after Cain and Abel.

Everyone in the family pronounces Lance’s name with the British pronunciation (David was adamant about using it) while everyone in his school (including Harry) uses the American pronunciation.

The only people (whom he knows) who don’t refer to Arthur as AJ are David and Kincaid.

Joan’s dog’s full name is Oliver Twist - named after a famous fictional character like all Herondale/Fairchild pets.

Other Max no longer goes by Lightwood-Bane and has a different surname in the Other Timeline (his present/our future).

Arjun is named after an infamous archer in Indian mythology.

Before Lance found about Kincaid’s destiny, Crimson King used to be one of his favourite bands - they’re a famous rock band from the 1960s and 70s.

And finally, Lance and Arthur were the names I had picked out for my own children, but I gave it to Mavid because I love them so much and wanted my unborn, imaginary children to have two wonderful parents.

#okay bye #also probs no lbaf update tomorrow yall but will keep you posted on Wednesday x #lbaf #lbaf next gen #my fics #love beckons all fallen

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