#it’s a little over 3 am as of the time of writing this so if your reading this tag before the fic don’t expect it to be that good

[sageyxbabey]

Hospital Food | COD x Reader

MDNI

Summary: Your ex-husband (the biological father of your daughter) shows up when said daughter is admitted to hospital. Your current partner (and your daughter) put him in his place.

aka: stupid man gets verbally wrecked by a 17-year-old girl and a SAS soldier. Inspired by the time my stepdad and i roasted my bio dad.

For @the-californicationist 's Nameless Challenge! This means you have to guess which of the delicious war criminals I'm writing about below. (This has inspired a series, so you'll find out who I was thinking of when the second one comes out. ;) )

WC: ~700 words (oops, forgive me cali)

Pairing: f!reader x tf141 member (but who? 👀)

Your ex-husband stood at the foot of his biological daughter’s hospital bed, watching her tap salt out of the little sachet onto a piece of buttered bread. His face was full of condescension, and you knew yours was full of barely contained disgust as you stared at him. God damn the child support agreement that required you to tell him when she was admitted to a hospital. At least you had otherwise full custody of her, you’re sure your ex would’ve been murdered by now if you’d been forced to see him semi-regularly – either by you or your wonderful (deadly, military-trained) partner who hated the man in front of you almost as much as you did.

God, you wish he was here right now. Unfortunately, he was wonderful enough to have gone down to the cafeteria in search of lunch for the both of you – and something sweet to sneak back in for your little girl. He spoiled her rotten, and it made you love him more every time he did. 

“That’s a lot of salt,” your ex rumbled. If looks could kill, the stare your 17-year-old daughter levelled him with would’ve evaporated him where he stood.

“Yes. It is,” she spoke. 

Tap tap tap, she resumed shaking the sachet.

“They put salt in bread when they make it. White bread is about 3% salt,” he said. As if there was some important point your daughter was missing.

“I know. I’ve made bread before.”

Tap tap tap.

It was taking every fibre of your being not to laugh with sheer joy and vindication as your daughter, the blood of your ex-husband, so casually eviscerated him in the middle of this tiny white room.

“Which is to say, you don’t need to be adding salt to it.” You didn’t think the man could sound any whinier. You were about to step in, but your daughter let out a deep sigh beyond her years (definitely picked up from the soldier who shared your home) and threw the empty salt packet onto the bed tray.

“Tell me, why shouldn’t I eat that much salt?” Her arms crossed in front of her, your ex-husband looked to you for help. He would get none.

“Because… it makes your body retain fluid and raises blood pressure–”

“Correct. I am in this hospital because I have low blood pressure caused by a low volume of fluid in my blood. They give me the salt packet on purpose. I am prescribed literal salt tablets,” she shook the bottle in the man’s face, “because I need to raise my blood pressure up to normal levels.”

Silence. Blinking.

“So I am going to eat this bread because it is what the doctor ordered.” Her head snapped to you, with a chaotic glint in her eye only teenage girls could possess. The next words out of her mouth would stay with you until your dying breath;

“Hey, Mum. When’s Dad coming back?”

You could not fight the grin that spread across your face, the elation jumping in your stomach. A quick glance at your ex-husband’s sour face made it clear that your daughter’s point had struck true – You are not welcome here. I do not need you. I have a real father where you failed.

You opened your mouth to reply, “He’s–”

“Right here, love!” The warm, gravelly voice of your partner filled the room, your daughter’s eyes lighting up with his presence. He stopped to press a tender kiss against your cheek, passing you a toasted sandwich, before he made his way to stand over the shoulder of your precious daughter.

“And I got you something special,” he whispered playfully, “Don’t tell the nurse.” He pulled a poppy seed muffin out of the bag he was holding and placed it on the bed tray in front of her. 

“Sorry mate, who are you?” Your partner turned and cocked his head at your ex. 

Your man knew exactly who the snivelling creature across from him was. Your boyfriend was just deciding to be a little shit, and it was one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen him do. 

“Dad, this is Marcus. You know, the man who got Mum pregnant with me?” Your daughter’s voice was poorly disguised venom. 

“Oh, right! Of course. I suppose I should thank you for your part in creating my wonderful daughter.” He stretched a hand out to your ex-husband who, for once in his life, made the smart choice to shake it and give some poor excuse for why he was needed elsewhere.

As soon as he was out the door, you had your arms around your lover, pressing endless kisses to his cheek as your daughter laughed. 

“Did you hear what I said, Dad?” 

Your partner leaned down to hug the girl – his girl – tightly. He grinned.

“Every fucking word.”

----------

I LOVE MY STEPDAD SO MUCH HE'S MY REAL DAD and my mother and he are truly couple goals. I was on the phone with him the other day when I asked if he remembered this happening. he let out the most fatherly cackle of pure, shit-stirring joy I've ever heard. It was magnificent.

forgot the TAGLIST: @frogtowne @teenagellamaangel @universitypenguin

#cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #WHO COULD IT BE? #you decide... #imagine any of them you like #BECAUSE ALL WILL BE REVEALED NEXT TIME MWAHAHA #cali's nameless challenge #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 x reader

[luvfy0dor]

“Your Handprint's on my Soul ♡⁠˖” BSD men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; established relationship (Fyodor only), first interactions, kisses, Dazais can be platonic or romantic

description; aus/tropes with BSD characters, inspired loosley by my old post about book types/tropes

A/n; CHAT IM SPEEDRUNNING THIS AS I WRITE THE A/N IM ONLY 2/3 OF THE WAY DONE W NIKOLAIS AND NO ONE ELSE IS DONE EXCWPT DAZAIS BULLET POINT AND ITS 2 HRS TILL POST TIME GOTTA LOCK IN ALSO TYSM FOR 700 💖💖💖

⑅ Osamu Dazai ⑅

• There was only one bed when Dazai appeared on your doorstep one evening. You don't know where he came from and he wouldn't tell you, but he would certainly tell you he wasn't letting you sleep anywhere but the bed, even if you wouldnt allow him to either.

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'Knock knock knock' was the first thing you heard when you woke from your slumber in the middle of the night. You felt a little unsettled, but still tiptoed out of bed to the door, peering through the peephole only to see the big head of your coworker and friend on the other side of the door. You huffed and unlocked the deadbolt and opened up. "What are you doing here this late at night?" You asked, rubbing your right eye with the palm of your hand and yawning. "Oh, nothing much, just here for a stroll! It's been quite the long time no see, no?" He says, letting himself in and taking off his shoes at the door. "I saw you..." You peered over at the digital clock on your nightstand table down the hallway. "Like, 7 hours ago. And you texted me 3." You sigh and pull up your pajama pants. "Can I sleepover?" Your brows furrowed at his question.

"Can you sleepover- Osamu, we have work in the morning and- ugh, you know what, yeah, you're already here and it's raining, isn't it? How are you completely dry? I...I have so many questions that I'm not gonna ask right now. You can sleep in my bed, just don't touch anything else in my room, especially nothing in or on my nightstand, got it?" He shook his head and steered you towards your room with his hands on your shoulders. "Oh no, that'd be rude of me to take your bed! I'll take the couch." You shook your head and yanked him gently by the wrist. "No, you're taking the bed-" "why don't we both take the bed?" You were silent for a moment. "Yeah, sure, I don't want to keep going back and forth with this." You say with a sleepy shrug. He walked in front of you to your bedroom like he lived here on the regular and tossed his coat aside. You crawled back into the bed, pulling the covers up to your nose and feeling the bed dip beside you when Dazai crawled in too. He also took his fair share of the blankets, but you soon realized that Dazai was a blanket hog. "Oh my gosh, I'm gonna kick you if y'dont stop stealin' all the blanket!" You groan, yanking the soft material back towards you. "I am not stealing all the blanket, you're very dramatic." He says, rolling over and scooching closer so that he can still be completely covered by the blanket without yanking it back. Each time you moved, you bunched up more of the blanket and pulled it closer to yourself, leaving Dazai uncovered from his right foot to his knee. "And you call me a blanket hog." He starts to steal some of the comforter back, but you toss it over him and roll over to press your front against his, cuddling him. "You come to my house unannounced and steal my blankets..you can just be another source of heat if you wanna act like this." You sleepily say, eyes still closed as you slur out your words. His face was one of surprise for a moment before it melted into a smile. He put a hand on your head and pulled you closer. "And you know what? That's fine with me."

⑅ Chuuya Nakahara ⑅

• Chuuya reminds me of that one soulmate au where whenever you get marks on your skin, they appear on your soulmates too. Small scars, ink scribbles, and bruises would often appear on Chuuyas, but never because of his own doing.

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Earlier in the morning, Chuuya had noticed a new doodle on his forearm, this time it was one of a cat. Usually it was partially colored-in hearts or imperfect stars, but he always found other drawings of yours to be more amusing. He was currently relaxing on his couch after a long day of work, shoes kicked off and pajamas put on. He'd gotten bored of whatever nonsense he was watching on the TV and decided to examine the kitty on his arm a little more before picking up a pen and deciding to draw one next to it with a little heart in between them. He rolled his eyes at himself, Chuuya Nakahara, the best martial artist in Yokohama and port mafia executive was doodling kitty cats and hearts on his own arm to appease some soulmate he didnt even know. He sighed and leaned back again. It didn't take long for you to notice and quickly scribble a reply that read "Wow, finally. [poorly drawn eye roll emoji] took you long enough to actually interact w/ me! Started to think I didn't have a soulmate." You felt giddy over the whole thing. Yeah, it was stupid, but he drew a cat in love with the cat that you drew! This was the interaction that you had been waiting for since middle school when all the other kids were writing back and forth with their soulmates so much that they'd make frequent trips to the bathroom to wash off old pen ink since they had no phones to text with yet. Teachers hated it, but everyone was already willing to put their education on the back burner for these, essentially, randos. Not Chuuya, though. Chuuya never liked writing on his skin, the way the ballpoint dragged across his pale flesh made him shiver, and so he never replied to you. His focus on other goals also contributed to that ignorance.

After many years though, he finally decided to entertain the whole idea. Chuuya didn't care about who his soulmate was, if he found someone that wasn't them and he loved them, then that was that. He didn't think the universe should decide the only person he could truly be with, so he dated on his own accord. He checked his arm for your reply as if he was checking a watch and he watched the ink appear on his arm, letter by letter and stroke by stroke. He smiled a little and grabbed his pen again. "I never really cared to, no offense." You scoffed when you read that, crossing out the no. "Full offense taken. Anyways, where you from?" He thought on whether or not he really wanted to tell you, so he decided to play it safe. "I'm not telling you that immediately, what are ya, crazy? How old are you?" The number 21 quickly appeared. "And your name?" You started writing out letters, but the ink quickly faded. Chuuya raised an eyebrow and went to write out a couple stray question marks, but the writing came back in a different color. The ink was blue this time. "Y/n." "Okay, y/n, not that you couldn't be lying, I live in Yokohama, Japan. Can I get your number to make this easier?" You smiled and fist pumped. "Yeah, it's ---/---/----." You received a message about four minutes later. "This is better, I have work in the morning and I don't want to have to scrub off any more ink than this tomorrow." You laid in bed, perpendicular to the mattress with your arms hanging off the edge of the bed as you typed out a reply. Your conversation went on for another hour getting to know eachother before he told you that it'd be best for him to go to bed. You wished him a goodnight and he did the same. You knew it'd take a while to build a strong friendship and maybe even relationship, but the thought made you excited nonetheless.

⑅ Fyodor Dostoevsky ⑅

• When I think of my own highschool academic greatness (I'm failing algebra2/trig) I think of Fyodors geniusness and how much highschool/college aus remind me of him. I don't know if he'd try to juggle a relationship and school, but if he did he'd help you be the best student possible while securing that valedictorian title for himself.

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Fyodors slim hand gripped his pencil loosely and moved it acrossed the paper he was given for a written assignment. His hair was pulled back in a super small pony tail and his eyes flickered over to the clock every now and again, waiting for the bell to ring with each passing second. He promised to meet you in the library during lunch to study for your AP Bio test you had coming up at the end of the week. He never minded helping you study, it'd help him retain the knowledge anyways. Finally, the familiar 'ding' sounded throughout the school and he packed up his stuff and left. He walked through the hallways and down the stairs to the library where you were already waiting for him. You smiled and waved him over, opening your school-loaned laptop. "Hey Fedya. I know we always spend lunches together but like, thank you for helping me, I'd be screwed otherwise." You say with a small laugh. He smiles and sits down next to you. "No problem, I don't mind, I did really well in that class anyways." He said while watching you type in your password and pull up an assignment. "Yeah, it's just about- oh! You kept the ponytail in?" You asked him with a smile. You had put his hair up that morning while waiting for the first bell. "Ofcourse I did. It keeps my neck cool." He tells you, tracing shapes on the small of your back with his thumb as he read over the assignment. "This is easy, Myshka, what's the trouble?" "I can't grasp ecology." You say, feeling yourself start to nod off. He raises an eyebrow and hums. "Well, do you sleep during your class like this?" He grins a little. You hum in denial and open your eyes again, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No, I just stayed up late last night cramming and stuff..." You say, resting your head against your fist. "Well that's probably why you're having trouble, you work when you should be sleeping."

You knew he was right, you had other classes that you were doing work for and you had put AP Bio on the back burner because you, a) didn't want to do it, b) didn't think you could do it, and c) saw that you'd feel more successful seeing all those 0's in other classes turn into grades. "I know, I know." You groaned. "But maybe we can just get this one done quick since my laptop is already open." You reaffirm and lean your head on his shoulder. He nods and re-reads the question before asking you what answer you'd pick first and why. You told him and he told you if you were right or wrong, briefly explaining why you were incorrect if that was the case. You were only 5 questions in before Fyodor realized you weren't answering him. He looked to his side and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled and closed your laptop for you and let you sleep against him for a little while, knowing he'd finish it with you later, very determined to help you get all of your work finally done so you could relax. You clearly needed it.

⑅ Nikolai Gogol ⑅

• Nikolai would be a great, flirty barista, which is why I think coffee shop au would be perfect for him. His ability would be of great use winning over a couple cents in tips as well as your heart.

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When you walked into your favorite, local coffee shop, the first thing you noticed was an unfamiliar face behind the counter. A tall man with long, braided white hair stood with a shaker in hand, clearly working hard to perfect s customers drink order. His eyes literally up when he saw you walking towards the counter, quickly pouring the liquid into a scribbled-on cup and capping it. "I'll be with you on one minute!" He says with a toothy grin, handing the drink to the lady waiting on the far side of the shop. He quickly returns to the cash register to take your order. "Hey! How can I help you?" He asks you and straightens out his apron. "Hi, uhm, can I have a (favorite drink), please?" He punched some stuff into the cash register and the visible screen in front of you showed you your total. "Anything else?" His eyes stared back into your own, making your heart race in your chest when you noticed just how beautiful he was. His differently pigmented eyes and sharp jawline along with the way his pointed teeth flashed when he smiled had your cheeks heating up pretty quickly. Not to mention his hair and physique.

As he was about to point out your staring with a cheeky expression, you muttered a 'yes.' He nodded. "Okay, your total is $4.20." You pulled out the first bill that wasn't a $1 from your wallet and handed it to him, Nikolais eyebrows raising when you put a $20 in his hands, but he stuck it in the register and counted up your change. "Okay, $15.80 is your change, can I get a name?" He asked you while giving you your change before grabbing a cup and sharpie. "Y/n." You quickly said, dropping all of the $15.20 in the top jar. "Ohhhh, wow! Y/n might as well take me on a date with a tip that big~!." He giggles and turns to make your drink for you while you wait with a warm face and stomach full of butterflies. "I don't think I'd mind taking you out on one." You say with a sense of confidence. "Hm, I might have to take you up on that." It's not long before he has your drink made, using a glowy portal to grab the sharpie on the counter relatively far away and scribbling something in your cup again. "Alright, here ya go! Have a good one!" He hands the drink to you, smiling a little bit when he feels your hand brush against as you take it from him. "Thank you, you too." You call back, turning around and walking away. Once you're out of the café, you rotate the cup 360° to figure out what he wrote on it, only to find ten digits acrossed the plastic. You smiled and your heartbeat picks up ten fold. You make sure to take a picture of it in a good lighting to ensure the visibility of all of the numbers, you might just have to arrange a date with him now.

A/n; AHHHHHHHHHHHH next time event post <3

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x you #bungou stray dogs nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #bsd dazai osamu #dazai bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara

[monstersflashlight]

Hi :) Uhmm ... I like how you write, these past few days it become my obsession and joy. ( I am so sorry, I am so bad at giving compliments!)

Uhmmm .... If I may be so bold I would like to share an idea? I just thought about absolutely cocky and arogant male, womanizer Cerberos. The reader has love/hate relationship towards him. Well and after one wild party, he would corner reader and showed them his true form. And holding onto his word to rock reader´s world (quite literally)

Hi! I'm so glad you enjoy my content, it means the world. Sorry for the long wait, adult life sucks so bad. Also, I added the anon question, hope you don’t mind. The idea that Cerberus is the one you hit on when tipsy sounds so cute to let it pass. I took the liberty to make cerberus a type of monster, so they’re just one of them and not THE cerberus, you know. I imagine they’re like a werewolf but with three heads, and like not human form, just a wolfy-guy with three heads. Each head talks separately, but in this there’s no difference between them to not make it hard to follow, but I think it’s quite good. Hope you enjoy! <3

Three heads are better than one

Cerberus (they/them) x fem!reader || fingering, public sex, dirty talk

When a cerberus started to work on your law firm, you two hit it the wrong way from the start. You were a top tier lawyer and they couldn’t understand that a human could be better than them. Three heads think better than one, how could a puny human like you be better than them? But you were, and it infuriated them. But it also fueled your banter with so much sexual tension you could taste it. But you didn’t do anything about it because everyone at the office knew they were a womanizer, they had a new girl every few days and never dated anyone. They were just there for the sex. Or that’s what everyone at the office said. But dang you wanted to hit it off with them so bad, you needed to know what their three mouths tasted like, how would it be to have three brains focused on your pleasure… That sounded delicious in the best possible way.

So when you catch them and their friends in a bar, after a few drinks, you think it’s time. You approach them and their friends at the end of the bar, ready to do something about your pent up sexual tension. You two have been dancing around each other for what feels like ages, and your tipsy brain thinks the best moment to do something about it is right now, right there. When you get closer, you can hear their friends making fun of them and elbowing them as they all giggle, pointing at you. You add a little bit of movement to your hips and hope it doesn’t look too ridiculous.

“Hi darling, how’s your night going?” You touch their pecs as all three of their heads focus on you. You blush, but keep caressing their torso over their shirt, you squeeze a bit and they slap your hand softly.

“Human, get lost.” You can’t understand how their voice can sound so harsh and so sexy at the same time, you can feel your panties melting. Maybe the alcohol has a part to blame, drinking always made you horny, and today is not different.

You pout, bating your lashes in your best puppy look. “Why are you always so mean?” Their three heads blink slowly at you, almost took out balance by your question.

“What? We’re not mean, you are just too soft,” they answer. You scoff, if they want to play that game you can give as better as receive. Uh, receiving… That’s exactly what you want. In a sexy way, against a wall if possible. They look like they can lift you up and fuck you.

“I’m not soft. I’m human. And you are mean.” You think you heard him say something about how they’re already aware that you are human, but you aren’t sure, the bar is really loud and the world is spinning around you.

“You need to go away before we do something all of us would regret.” Their central head is the one doing the talking, but the other two nod along.

“I don’t want to.” You know you sound bratty and entitled, but you are horny and everyone says they’re a womanizer, why are they not womanizing you? “You don’t like humans, is that it?”

“Trust me, they like humans. They like them reeeeeal good.” One of their friends says behind them. All of them laugh, but your coworkers are looking at you like they are going to dig a hole through your body just with their eyes.

“Come with me.” They sound fed up, like they are going to scold you and it’s going to feel awful. But your tipsy brain doesn’t process it fully, so you follow them without questioning. They lead you to the back of the bar, the hallway that leads to the bathroom. The music is softer there, you can listen to your own brain better.

They push you against the wall, they body pressing against your front. You shiver, anticipation filling your guts and their low growl making you whimper. “We can smell how wet you are, we can almost taste your desire. You are too tempting for your own good, honey.” You think the pet name was condescending every time they used it before, but at that moment, it sounds like a caress.

Their hands found the edge of your skirt as they grab your leg and position it against their hip. You are open and exposed, your skirt riding up and your soaked panties in the open. You whine again. You never felt as dirty and naughty as you do now, it’s maddening. They cress the outside of your thigh as they rock their hips against you, letting you feel their cock through your panties. You moan loudly.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please.” You know you’d be embarrassed beyond belief about it the next morning, but right now you don’t care. You can only think about how good their finger feels inside of you, and how much you wish that was their cock. When they move your panties to the side and push one finger inside your needy pussy, you cry out.

“Not here, little human.” They press against your G-spot, making your knees buckle under you. They grab your waist and holds you pressed against the wall as you pant. “If tomorrow you feel like this again, then we can talk.” They said, their fingers slowly thrusting into you.

“What?” You ask, trying to focus on their words and not the wonders they’re doing on your pussy. Their thumb rolls over your clit and you have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It feels so good. You start to move your hips at the rhythm of their thrusts.

“We’ve been waiting forever to get your attention, We’re not wasting it on a quick fuck on a bar.” Their voice sounds serious and you feel confused as fuck. What are they talking about? They hate you, they always pick stupid fights with you over the silliest things.

“What?” You ask, trying to grab their hand but holding onto their shoulders, moving your hips faster. The rational part of you is not present, only your whore-ish part.

“We’ve been waiting to ask you out but we thought you wouldn’t want us.” They mutter that under their breath, you barely catch it.

“What?” You ask, once more. Are they saying they like you? They wanted to ask you out? But… But the gossip. They said they didn’t date, you never saw them with anybody, just random hookups. “What?” You ask again.

“You… We… We have a bit of a human kink with you, okay? You are so soft and so pretty. We can’t stop thinking about you. And then you get up in front of the judge and good lord do you look good. You look magnificent.” Their voice sounds amazed, like they are telling the truth and they truly like you. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your question is lost when their thumb starts rubbing against your clit. You think they answer something, but your brain is fuzzy with pleasure. “Stop touching my clit I can’t focus.” You whisper, trying to look at them and see if they aren’t lying. There’s no way they want you, is it?

“What if we don’t want you to focus? What if we want you coming around our fingers until you are crying out how much you love it? How much you like being stretched in public by us?” You moan so loud they have to cover your mouth with their unoccupied hand. “Shhh, be quiet. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” Your pussy involuntarily clenches around their fingers. “Oh, naughty girl, you do want to get caught. Does that excite you? Do you want everyone to see how improper you really are? You are such a good lawyer but then you part your legs for us in the back of the bar… Such a dirty, dirty woman.” You shiver, your juices flowing around their fingers. You’ve never been as turned on as you are right there, their fingers feel divine and you are so fucking close.

“Please…” Your plea sounds pathetic and you blush, but they just smirk at you, two of their heads attacking your neck at the same time. Feeling the two sets of mouths against your neck combined with the feel of their fingers moving inside of you is getting you so wet their hand is making filthy sounds.

“You are so wet for us, so soft. I bet you taste amazing. We are going to spend so much time licking you. Do you know what they say about cerberus?” You shake your head. “We give the best head because we have three of them. Do you want to feel three tongues against your pussy, honey? Do you want to be worshiped by three heads?” The image they are painting in your head is so good you want to open your legs and ask them to do it right there. But you are so close already, their fingers feel so fantastic inside of you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rolling your hips. They accompany your movement, getting you almost to the edge.

“Are you going to come for us? Are you going to be a good woman and come around our fingers? We can’t wait to feel you around our dicks, bet you are going to feel better than any pussy we ever had. Our first human. Our only human. What are you gonna do, honey? Do you want to suck us off?” You nod eagerly, so close. “Of course you want to, you want to be a good little human for us.” You get the feeling them calling you human is doing more for them than for you. Their human kink is playing in your favor. “Come for us, human.” They whisper against your ear as the other two heads suck on your neck.

The combination of fingers and mouths makes your body shake uncontrollably against theirs, your orgasm so good you almost fall down. You can feel your juices dripping down and soaking your panties and their fingers. They take their fingers away and you watch in amazement as they raise their hand to lick it, all three of their heads getting some. You moan as aftershocks rock your body.

They put your panties back in place and slowly lower your leg. Your legs are shaky and you grab onto their arm. Three heads smile down at you, one of them looking specially smug. They pass an arm over your shoulders and help you walk out of the hallway. “Let us take you home.” They whisper, their hold on you so hard it feels wonderful. It feels so good you could fall asleep right there. They gave you the orgasm of your life and on top of it, they are sweet about it. You judged them so bad you feel like shit. You can always make it up to them at some point. You add it to your mental list of things to do in the morning, even though you know you won’t remember.

“There’s no need.” You try to argue, without any force behind your words. You really want to spend more time with them.

“We want to.” Their voice is final, you know that tone. That’s the tone they use in court, and you know you can’t win against it.

They drive you home as you fidget with your rings, nervous after what happened, after what they said. You want to run, to break the silence, but you are speechless. You don’t know what to say and the alcohol you had is kicking you really hard. You feel sleepy and tired, more than ready to go to bed.

They follow you to your house, opening your door and leading you to your bedroom where they help you get undressed. You think they are going to do something more, but they barely touch your naked body as they cover you with a blanket.

You feel three soft forehead kisses before they say: “We aren’t playing games with you, honey. We want to play with your pussy, yes, but not with your heart. We hope you give us a chance.” You nod, and try to answer, but your eyes are so heavy that you can’t keep them open, your brain shutting down.

When you wake up the next morning with a text saying: “We can’t wait to have you sucking our cock. And then we can go to dinner, we booked the fancy restaurant you like.” You giggle on your pillow and kick your legs. Yeah… That sounds like the start of a very fun game.

#cerberus #cerberus x reader #cerberus x human #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #request #fem!human #banter

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Mid-Season Teaser!

Not ME salivating over another IWTV teaser, spending a dang hour fangirling frame by frame over less than a minute of footage. Certainly not EYE. (I blame @thedaswolves)

That familiar blue-screen news segment we saw in Ep4--I can't wait to find out what it was reporting.

Chile, lemme find out DanLou is canon, with those bedroom eyes.

Louis' VOICE. 😨 The way he's screaming; I can't--Jacob's the goat of putting every negative emotion on the planet into his voice.

Did Armand initially want Daniel killed cuz Louis did the interview (breaking Rule 3 about writing the history of vamps)?

It seems Armand kicks Louis out so he can screw with Daniel--I mean with Dan's MIND, you pervs!

"I serve a God" chic, coming to a Dubai penthouse Spring 2022~!

"You'll NEVER make it up to me"--OOF!

OF COURSE he knows; Louis already warned him.

Armand's been in his Grovel Era all this time; "Vintage Lioncourt" indeed! 😅

Is that the same outfit Les wore the night of their "anniversary," when Lou broke up w/ him, then came back w/ Claudia, wanting a baby?

If so, then which scene is this revisiting, that Louis will regret--leaving Lestat (Les has tears in his eyes)? Or coming back w/ Claudia (I'm scared it's the latter)? 👀

There's a crack in the wall like an impact crater--what's going ion in the living room!? Is Loumand fighting!? Omg! Cuz their argument in Ep4 sounded CRAZY; you know those two have TEMPERS. 👀

Wtf is Santiago doing? This is definitely the same scene where he's zooming thru the sewer, so I wonder if he's tryna jump Armand, then Armand does a wee little taste of the Killing Gift on him to make him spasm and put him back in place.

We are NOT gonna be okay, omg. The coven's abducted him & Claudia & Madz. I am SHAKING.

The Trial finna be SPICY.

S01E05, here we go....

That's DELAINEY, lfg!

The gutteral way she screams "OF YOU TWO!" is giving Jacob a run for his money--PURE RAGE. She's so SICK of Loustat, it's palpable.

Yes and no, love.

This ain't funny at all, I'm near tears.

That's the front of the Theatre behind him.

And the marquee falling down as the whole building goes up in flames; you love to see it.

THE HYPE IS REAL.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv tvc metas #loumand #loustat #the hype is real #must see tv #iwtv spoilers #iwtv season 2 spoilers #you go away for 12 hours and there's new footage I NEED REST

[deepestnightcolor]

Just imagine Elliot ranting to his friend (Reader) how he just can‘t really put the scene from his mind onto paper, the reader of course would love to help him…

turns out the scene was about a beautiful woman masturbating, that lands her on Elliots bed with him telling her how to touch herself (to get it as accurate as possible of course) with him so close to her, watching and analyzing her every movement while he takes notes for his story

(You can add as much to it as you want)

ᴀ/ɴ: Okay, anon, wow. What is your BRAIN! I drooled a little over this, honestly. And I was SO excited to write this. I hope I hit the right spots with this, because hehehe. Had my head go brrrrrr. Thank you so much for your time and attention and your willingness to request! <3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Elliott (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2007 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, masturbation, making out, being watched while masturbating, finger fucking, teasing, pining.

☾ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ☽

Usually, Elliott tried to avoid talking about his writing on Fridays. The reason for that was simple: Fridays were spent with you in the saloon and needed to be honoured.

This Friday was different, though. Something was bothering Elliott, and even though he tried not to show it, he did show it. On accident, of course. A dramatic sigh left his lips, wettened by the beer he was sipping, eyes looking out of the window wistfully. His whole body language screamed “HELP ME OVERCOME THIS WRITING PROBLEM”, and you just weren’t one to let your friends suffer.

“What is it, Elliott?” You asked, leaning your elbows on the table so you could take a closer look at the author. “It’s nothing,” he sighed, voice filled to the brim with drama and expiration. “You sure?” “Yesss, everything is finnnnneeee.” The stretched-out “fine” ended in a drawn-out sigh, hazel eyes looking up at you, just begging for you to ask again. You sipped your own drink, eyebrow cocked at him. “You suuuuuuureeeee?” “I mean, it’s Friday...,” Elliott began, his lips now pushed forward in a cute little pout, “I don’t talk about my writing on Fridays.” “And if I tell you that it really is fine?” “Well…Maybe I would be able to make an exception then,” he murmured, adding a quiver to your lower lip. Oh, Elliott. So cute, so dramatic, lying it on thick for you today.

“Alright, it really is fine for you to tell me about you-“ “There is this scene I am struggling with,” he quickly began, scared you could change your mind faster than he could get his words out, “and I think you would be the perfect aid.” You hummed, licking your lips clean from the stickiness of the alcohol. “Is that so? And what is that scene about?”

The shimmer of mischief in Elliott’s eyes should have worried you, even more so when it was combined with him lowering his voice to a hushed whisper, telling you how he needed to tell you at his shed. It wouldn’t work here, you see, confidential information would be shared with ears that shouldn’t yet hear it. So of course you agreed, following your friend to his home without even a seed of doubt planted in your mind. “You want what?” You asked, disbelief drenching your voice. “I know, I know, it must sound absolutely ridiculous, yet you must consider! I am stuck on this scene, and I could use a beautiful muse like you!” “So, and just to be clear I heard you right, you want me to masturbate in front of you!” Elliott gave you this awkward, pleading grin, head cocked to the side: “Uh…Yes. Though it would be professional, I promise! No words will be shed about this – I just… I just really could use it for my book.” His hands clasped together as if he was silently begging you, and yet again he pulled his face into that cute little pout. “Pretty please…It is one of the last elements of my book and I-“ “Fine.” Surprise flashed over Elliott’s face, and really, you yourself were surprised. Both of you had expected that it would have taken a lot more to convince you, yet who was Elliott to complain? “Great, great! Thank you so, so much, darling! How about you lay down and get comfortable already, and I will just get my pen and paper.” “You will take notes about this?” “Why, yes!” Well, that had answered it, hadn’t it?

You took a deep, shaky breath as you began to take off your top, the little skirt that you had thrown on for the saloon. After a moment of hesitation, you even discarded the bra that had been holding your tits up, allowing them to bounce free. With a glance in Elliott’s direction, you allowed yourself to slowly find a spot on his mattress, but as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were surrounded by his scent. It would have been a complete and utter lie if you had tried to say that this didn’t begin to turn you on; lying almost naked in your friend’s bed, surrounded by his smell. About to be watched by him. Goosebumps arose on your skin, your clit twitching gently at the thought. You had always found Elliott handsome, but he had always seemed to keep his distance; most often hiding himself behind his manuscripts. This…was incredibly raw and open.

The sound of a chair’s legs scratching along the ground caught your attention. Elliot’s flustered face appeared in your field of vision, leading you to blush as well.

“You look…stunning,” he whispered. There was no dramatics in his voice, no exaggeration. Only that sweet, honest compliment. You gave him a smile, biting down on your lower lip. He had taken off his coat by now and rolled up his sleeve; his hair tied back in a top knot. He looked absolutely delicious himself, the way he started to write his notes. Hazel eyes taking you in completely, just to scribble something down on the paper. He had lit up a candle on the nightstand, the flickering flame accenting his sharp features in a way that made you want to drag him onto the bed with you, but instead, you slowly let your fingers slip down your neck, to your breast. The movement caught Elliott’s attention, and you could feel his gaze following the dance of your fingertips. You, on the other hand, shamelessly focused your attention on him. Being watched like this had a thrill to it that you hadn’t expected, but now fucking loved. Your thumb was now caressing your own nipple gently, mind wandering to the thoughts ofhow it would feel if Elliott was the one doing it. The goosebumps that appeared in your skin weren’t solely because of the pleasure you felt from teasing your nipples, but also because you believed Elliott’s hands on you would feel much better.

He scribbled something down again as your hand travelled down further, catching the hem of your panties. You lifted your hips, slowly sliding them off your hips. Your lower lip was bitten as you felt the air brush your cunt, and the throw of your panties towards Elliott definitely wasn’t an accident.

His eyes lingered on your cunt as it was exposed, taking it in with a deep inhale. He wrote something down, then scribbled over it, running a palm through his hair while shifting on his seat. “Oh, yes,” you whispered as your thumb caught your clit, giving the bundle gentle flicks of your thumb. Elliott swallowed thickly, his feather scratching the paper in a newfound frantic. You pressed your feet in the mattress and spread your legs wider, your eyes slipping shut as the gentle waves of pleasure washed over you. You had only just started, but feeling Elliott stare at you like this…Yoba, it made you wet. As if to prove it to him, you allowed a single digit to run through your folds, only to suck it into your mouth. The low groan coming from next to you caught your attention, yet when you looked, Elliott was fixated on the paper, feather just barely able to follow all the words that were supposed to spill out of it.

You slowly allowed your hand to pick up the journey along the curves of your body again, slowly stroking up and down your thighs with quivering fingers. You knew a pair of hazel eyes were following each and every touch, and you easily began to rub your clit again. More warmed up than the first time, you let a moan of pleasure leave your lips, not even opening your eyes when you heard Elliott shift on his chair, his hot breath hitting your skin soon after. “Mhhh,” you cooed, arching your back in a little just for show, dipping a finger into your cunt, your perverted mind wishing it was the author’s dick instead.

The quivering gasp next to you was the first thing that caught your attention. Looking over at the man, you could see that his hand was placed firmly in his lap, eyes wide. “What’s wrong, Elliott? Got a little hard there?” You whispered. Pride that your looks turned him on so much filled you, making you add another finger. The brunet grunted, shifting in his seat again under the pretence of getting more comfortable, but the lustful expression gave him away.

“You just look so luscious,” he breathed, his hand now wrapping around his shaft through his pants with barely an ounce of shame. “So pretty for me,” he added, willing himself to at least pretend to write down some more notes.

You didn’t really care about that, your eyes were now solely focused on his hard dick, just barely hidden behind his hand. Fucking yourself with your fingers, you whimpered his name, causing his attention to snap towards you.

You were close, you could feel the orgasm building up beneath your touch, but you just…you just needed a little more. “Elliott, kiss me? Fuck, please,” you whispered, a high-pitched moan leaving your mouth as you circled your clit again. Elliott’s lips pressed against yours in a captivating kiss; teeth clattering against teeth, tongues battling for dominance. Even though you had just asked him for a kiss, his hands automatically began to roam, finding your clit with ease and replacing your thumb there. Him rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves while his tongue licked over yours sent shocks of pleasure up your spine, leaving your brain light and empty. In all honesty, Elliott couldn’t hold back anymore. His hips sloppily and greedily humped against your thigh while he rubbed your clit, sucking on your tongue with a tenderness you had expected from him, but also with greed that made your heat throb.

“El- Gonna-“

He didn’t let you finish the sentence, too busy to fill your mouth with his tongue again, his humping growing faster against your leg. The squeal that left you made him moan lowly, rubbing the bundle of nerves despite your orgasm already being torn out of you.

Your free hand reached for Elliott’s hair, tugging the long strands as you moaned, your body spasming at the feeling of your orgasm recking through you. Not even the tug caused Elliott to show any signs of mercy, his thumb steadily kept up its circling, with him only pulling away from the kiss to watch you shiver and squirm beneath his late touch.

“Elliott!” You cried out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his fingers enter your sensitive gushing cunt, the grin on his face almost diabolic. “Are you going to cum a second time, my muse? It would be great for my story,” he whispered to you, working his finger into you while his thumb was still tracing patterns on your clit. His lips peppered gentle kisses upon your chest, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Elliott, can’t, oh, Yoba!” You tried to hold on to his wrist, but his merciless treatment of your slit didn’t even falter. “El! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your body squirmed away and drew closer, like the tides at the beach, but in the end, he still pushed you over the edge. With a quivering cry you released, your hips snapping up to get the author’s finger knuckle deep within you, your legs spreading and snapping close – it was as if your body was malfunctioning.

As your back met the mattress, Elliott’s fingers on you began slowing down. Gentle kisses were casted upon your skin, attempting to calm you down. Your hand was still buried in Elliott’s hair as he came down next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist. In the bliss of two orgasms, you rolled around and slowly snuggled into his side, pressing your face into his chest.

“You know,” you whispered after a while, voice still hoarse, “I think your book really needs a sex scene…And I know just the muses.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #sdv fanfic #fanfic #stardew valley smut #smut #sdv elliott x farmer #sdv elliott x reader #elliott stardew valley #stardew elliott

[httpkaulitz]

could you write a fluff where the reader and Tom get into a fight and then he goes out and late he arrives drunk and she takes care of him? I love your write pookie <3

Drunk

PAIRINGS: Tom x Female reader

CONTENT: Fluff

SYNOPSIS: You take care of drunk Tom.

WARNINGS: none

You stared at the page of the book without actually reading the words. It had been hours since everything had happened, but the thoughts and memories still continued to run through your mind like a movie. You wanted to say that you weren't sad and that you hadn't cried, but you would be lying.

You and Tom always argued like every couple, and you always made up soon after. But this time was different. You exchanged very harsh words and you were both too hurt to try to understand each other.

Tom had left, slamming the door loudly after looking at you hurt.

You woke up to your cell phone ringing non-stop. Tom wasn't home yet so you decided to go to bed early to avoid any future arguments. You opened your eyes slowly, reached out clumsily to grab your cell phone from the bedside.

"Gustav? Did something happen?" You asked worriedly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked at the clock on the bedside and the red light was flashing 2:27 in the morning. Gustav would never call at this hour.

"Yes... can you open the door for me?" He sighed looking tired.

"I am going." You got out of bed and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the way because of your sleep. You opened the door and Gustav had Tom leaning on his shoulder.

"My God what happened?" You quickly ran over to him helping him carry Tom to the couch.

"I don't know. He called me and I found him like this. It seems like he spent the day drinking, so the fight must have been for some stupid reason." Gustav said trying to make everything sound less than it really was. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't like the situation at all.

"Hey, you said you weren't going to bring me here." Tom mumbled in a slurred voice. Anyone could see that he was completely drunk.

"You, quiet." You said angrily pointing your finger at Tom's face.

"Don't point fingers at me. You shouldn't even open the door dressed like that." He shouted, blatantly looking at your body, smiling.

You were so worried about the possibility that something serious had happened to your friend that you didn't even bother to change your clothes. The nightgown was a completely short blue dress and showed more than it should. You just rolled your eyes and turned your attention to Gustav.

"Sorry, you didn't need to waste your time bringing this idiot. You could have left him on the street." You said taking Gustav to the door. He looked at you with a warning look even though he knew you weren't serious.

"I know... it's just that I had a very long day, which apparently isn't over." You look at the sofa and see Tom try to get up, grimace in pain and fall back into his seat.

"Do you need help with him?" Gustav asked worriedly.

"No, you've already helped enough." You almost laughed at your friend's relieved expression. "You can take his car, you won't walk home because of a drunk." You shouted the last part so Tom could hear and he mumbled a bunch of incomprehensible things making Gustav laugh.

"Thanks, don't be too hard on him. Good night." He hugged you, already heading towards the exit.

"Don't defend him." You complained, moving away from Gustav who laughed in his face. "Good night, be careful on your way home."

You took a deep breath and walked over to the couch. Tom was still the same way you and Gustav had left him, he tried to get up a few times, but gave up when he realized he couldn't do it alone.

"Let's go." You said more to yourself than to Tom. You pulled him by his arms, helping him get up, put one of his arms around your neck and started walking towards the bedroom.

"Okay, just a little more." You whispered with difficulty as you lost your balance and hit one of the walls in the hallway.

When you arrived in the room, you let go of Tom, who fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. He leaned up trying to kiss you but you pulled away.

"Stop it, Tom." You said pushing him away.

Tom held you against him until you stopped trying to get away. "You look really pretty dressed like that." He said, lowering one of the straps of the nightgown and letting it hang on your shoulder.

"And you're really drunk." You looked at Tom, he had the same wolfish smile, but his mouth was swollen and a large purple spot was starting to form in the corner. You let go of his arms, finally managing to stand.

''You would look prettier without any clothes on.'' Tom whispered, sitting up and trying to grab you by the waist.

''Tom, stop it. Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.'' You pushed his hands away, taking a deep breath. You were still upset about the fight earlier, but there was no point talking about it now.

''That's what I'm talking about.'' He said, laughing and tugging at the hem of his nightgown.

You rolled your eyes, slapping Tom's hand away. You rested your knee on the mattress and pulled Tom's shirt over his head.

''Don't even think about sleeping until I'm done.'' You mumbled, noticing his sleepy state.

''I'm not sleepy.'' He replied, with a drunken wave.

You unbuckled his belt with a quick movement. ''You're good at that.'' He said smiling, Tom raised his head to look at you who was completely serious and focused on your work.

''Shut up.'' You said irritably, unbuttoning his jeans and moving them down his legs. You threw it to the ground and stood with your hands on your hips, breathing heavily.

''Come on.'' You pulled his hands trying to lift him up.

''Where are we going?'' He asked confused.

'No way you're going to sleep next to me stinking of alcohol.'' Tom just grumbled in response without wanting to get out of bed.

''Come on, Tom.'' You sighed, dragging him to the bathroom.

He grumbled again, doing nothing to help. In the best case scenario, he ended up putting more weight on you.

''Stay here, I'll turn on the shower.'' You said, placing Tom on the toilet.

You turned on the shower, changed it from hot to cold and waited for the water to change temperature. You felt Tom wrap his arms around your waist and press your body against his.

''Can't you stay quiet even when you're falling down drunk?'' You asked, not expecting an answer.

''Are you still mad at me?'' Tom asked when you moved his arms away from your waist.

''You hate me now.'' Tom said in his drunken state pouting.

''I'm sure I don't hate you.'' You said laughing and turning to look at Tom, he had taken off his underwear and was now completely naked. You quickly looked up at Tom's face, which was smiling smugly.

''Don't pretend you don't like what you see.'' He smiled, naughty. You smiled and pushed Tom under the shower.

He grunted when he felt the cold water and tried to get out, but you pushed him back under the water.

''It's cold.'' He complained.

''This will help with your drunkenness, and you'll thank me tomorrow.'' After a while more listening to Tom complain about the cold water, and other things that you didn't understand because he spoke so quietly. You turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

''I'm not sleepy.'' Tom complained as you put him in bed and covered him with the duvet.

''Tom please, it's early in the morning and today was very stressful, just be quiet, okay?'' You asked softly, walking away towards the hallway, but Tom held your hand and pulled you back.

''Will you sleep here with me?'' He asked sleepily, already snuggling into the soft covers. There were few times that you slept apart after a fight.

''Do you think I would not sleeping in my comfortable bed because of you?'' You raised an eyebrow seeing Tom smile at your sarcastic tone.

''Smart girl.'' He whispered letting go of your hand.

You walked to the living room to get your cell phone, Gustav had left messages saying he had arrived home safe.

You looked at the time on your cell phone screen 03:15am. You was exhausted, confused and stressed. You walked back to the room and found Tom already asleep. His body was sprawled out on the bed, his head tilted to the side and from the messy state of the bed you knew he had moved a lot until he found a comfortable position.

The duvet had come down leaving his body exposed, the light coming in through the window was enough for you to enjoy the view of his subtle and completely perfect muscles. You felt your face heat up and you knew you were blushing, when your eyes traveled further down his torso, following the trail, eagerly, as if it were a map that would lead you to the pot of gold.

''Stop it, you're still mad at him.'' You whispered to yourself pushing away your lewd thoughts. You put the cell phone on the bed, and pulled the blanket covering Tom's body.

As soon as you lay down next to him, he brought his body closer to yours, hugging you around your waist. You smiled as you watched him sleep peacefully. You guys would be fine.

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz x reader

[delwrites]

HI HI james is my pookie rn too and I'm craving fics so !!!!

consider. James with a really studious kinda reader (I'm thinking Ravenclaw but house doesn't have to be specified), academic rivals to lovers? like reader gets the best scores in most subjects but just can't manage to beat James in transfigurations? perhaps one day they find themselves struggling so much they just HAVE to ask him for help (as much as they hate to admit it) and they realize he's actually not as insufferable as they thought he'd be... then study sessions (cough dates cough) get more frequent and I think you can imagine where this is heading

hope you understand what I'm trying to say ^_^ you don't have to write this if you're struggling or don't feel like it but thanks in advance if you do 💋💋

an- i have to be honest, i didn’t write this alone… @koishua posted a list of prompts for academic rivals and i used a few, big shoutout to them thank you so much, they helped a bunch <3 this request was amazing, thanks babe!

James Potter loved to get on your nerves.

The smug bastard had seen how good you were in all your subjects, so he just loved to hold your greatest shame over your head; transfigurations. That bitch.

His annoying attitude paired with his holier-than-thou perspective vexed you to no end. But what irritated you the most was how genuinely gifted he was, when you could barely understand the simplest of spells. It was unlike you, and he knew it, and gosh he loved to rub your face in it. You dreaded every upcoming test, and no matter how hard you studied, it made no difference when it came to putting the theory into practice. You hated him and his smug fucking face.

His smug, handsome face. 

Before you had spoken to him, you almost could’ve sworn your heart jumped in your chest a little. Before he had opened his fat gob, you’d almost thought you actually found him sufferable. Oh how wrong you’d been. 

“Exam coming up, sweetheart. I can’t wait to rub my superiority in your face, again!” You rolled your eyes as James took his respective seat next to you. Regrettably, you’d allowed him to be your seatmate, the first day of lessons your eyes following him as he smoothly slid down on the shared desk next to you. You didn’t realise, at the time, just what you were getting yourself in for.

“Oh shut it, Potter, this time is the time I get you back, just you wait.” You spat his name out with as much venom as you could fathom, before he let out a surprisingly loud laugh at your words.

“Please, oh I’d love to see that!” The bastard. You’d show him, you just had to.

The next day was the first time where this pointless rivalry had faltered, it almost made you like him. Almost. You were sick, in bed all day with a flu that was going around. It was hardly anything serious, you weren’t exactly bedridden, but you didn’t want to pass it on to any of your respective classmates (although you wouldn’t mind poisoning a certain one). 

It was late afternoon, just after last period, when a certain displeasing bespectacled boy was at your dorm room door, rasping a melodious knock that tore a groan from your throat. 

“Come in!” He peeked his head around the door, a cheery expression faltering at your state, before coming back tenfold, a detail you missed having your arm thrown over your eyes. 

“You had no right to get sick!” He all but whined. You looked at him incredulously, baffled by his sudden outburst.

“Who am I supposed to annoy now?” 

“Well I didn’t mean to get sick!” You reply, exasperated by his antics, and the annoying tone his voice was piercing your brain with.

He smirked at you, happy you still had your argumentative nature with him, even in your state, before handing you a bundle of parchment.

“Uh, here.” He gives you a lopsided grin, best he could muster for you right now, before clasping his hands behind his back, rocking himself back and forth from the balls to the heels of his feet.

Upon reading the parchment, you instantly knew what he’d done. You furrowed your brows upon glancing over his notes (in aggravatingly nice handwriting, might you add).

“What, and the joke is they’re all wrong or something?” you say, clearly irritated, waiting for him to get to the point, hit you with the punchline. 

“No! No, I just, um, want my win to be a fair one, you know? Can’t have you falling behind, can we?” By this point, his feet had planted firmly beside your bed, hand going up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I, uh, used my best handwriting and everything. I know you always complain about how ‘illegible’ it is so I, y’know, wanted to make sure you could read them…” he says, his hand then gesturing to the aforementioned papers in your grasp. All you could do was stare at them, trying to figure out his real intentions. James Potter wouldn’t just do something nice for you, would he?

Upon your silence, his brain scrambles to fill it, “You can read it, right?”. You feel a smile fighting onto your face, a genuine, stupid smile trying to unabashedly show itself. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah I can read it, idiot. Um seriously, I- thank you?”

“Wow, don’t have to sound so genuine.”

“No, James, seriously, it, um, it means a lot…” your eyes stick onto the post at the end of your bed, your duvet suddenly feeling suffocatingly warm. 

James can’t help but feel stunned at your use of his actual name. It felt silly, but he could feel your resolve crashing down before him, it made his own rear its head into the room, before he heard your door open, signalling his departure.

“Right, well I’ll, uh, see you later.” He gives you his best grin, teeth and all, before scooting past your friend to go back to his friends, a confusing blush covering his cheeks. Shit.

Your next lesson back, you couldn’t help but feel your anger tenfold. You had read over his notes and, for fucks sake, they were amazing. You already had a better understanding of the subject just after two, maybe three sides of parchment. I mean wow, what a dickhead. A super smart, super hot dickhead. You took your spot next to him, not daring to give him a glance.

“Woah, you’re awfully quiet. Finally realise I’m so much better than you at this?” He turns to you, smug smirk on his lips that you just wanna smack (kiss) off his stupid face. You turn to him as well, so suddenly that he almost flinches. 

“Teach me.” 

It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting you to say, but if it led to you here, now, like this, then boy was he glad. You were sitting practically thigh to thigh in the library after school, you requesting his help right up until dinner (or however much of it you could take until then). 

After around two hours of his help, you hated to say that you were already seeing improvement on your behalf. You’d never seen him so serious, not shy to crack jokes of course, but you could tell he was genuinely trying to help you. There were points where you couldn’t help but get distracted, watching his hands run over the pages, using them to further drive his points home, not shying away from the proximity like you desperately wanted him to. Every time you asked him to repeat himself, he’d poke your side, asking if he’s going too fast for you (not quite as teasingly as you’d expect him to, though), before repeating himself in a way that he deemed would make things more clear for you. It’s his fault, anyway. If he hadn’t been so close, so touchy, you wouldn’t get distracted in the first place. Hell, you could practically feel his breath on your neck. Despicable. You could only pray he couldn’t feel your heart rate speeding up, body temperature rising. If he knew the reason for your getting distracted, he sure as hell wasn’t showing it, at least having the decency of saving you the embarrassment. 

It all came to an end (sadly) when Remus came into the library, looking for a particular book and finding more than he bargained for. A smirk overcame his face, before walking over to you both, bending next to James’ ear to mutter a quick “Sirius has been looking for you,” and leaving you both to your devices as he continued scouring the library for his book, discreetly eyeing you both up. 

“Thanks again for, y’know, everything.” You say awkwardly, wringing your hands together in a manner which had his eyebrows creasing, lips in a straight line before sucking in a sharp breath, replying with a genuine, “Hey, I get it. Having a reputation to uphold and what-not, it can be a lot…” You just nod, eyeing up his face for any indication of him not meaning what he was saying, sniffing out any traces of a potential trap. 

“No really, you make a great teacher.” You beam up at him, the closeness of him making your breath catch in your throat, faces so close you could almost…

“I am brilliant, aren’t I?” Moment ruined. 

You let out a genuine (albeit, surprised) laugh in his face before gathering your ink and quill, putting all the parchment used into your bag and holding out a hand to him. 

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

#james potter fluff #james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #james x you #academic rivals #academic rivals to lovers #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders era #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter

[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

#polin #bridgerton s3 #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #pen x colin #observations from a crazy person

[callmearcturus]

okay the Eye of the Duck for each of the MI films

Mission Impossible:

I promise I really thought about the Vault Scene and I could go on for ages about it and I maybe should since it's the marker of what separates MI from other action franchises.

But my heart lives in this scene as the emotional core of the movie, where Jim comes back from the dead and tries to spin a tale that Ethan is too smart to fall for but is still tempted by. The way Jim says one thing but Ethan's already pieced together what really happened-- and doesn't like the answer, rewrites it in his head to make it fit what he wants.

Ethan's emotions and how much he cares about people is his ultimate weakness and it remains so for the entire franchise, so to see him wrestling with that all the way from the start is crunchy.

Also Ethan soulgazing the camera for that long is very affecting.

Mission Impossible 2:

the point of the EOTD is to find the scene at the movie's center that reflects its core back at you. I think Woo's vision of MI is exemplified by that final fight scene between Ethan and the villain. I remember the first time I watched the movie, this scene made me go "NO" out loud several times.

I mean, mostly because absolutely not that handgun will not fire after being in the sand for that long, there is not enough gun oil in the world.

but since I have wisened up and realized MI2 is not the worst MI movie, I think I get it more. The over-the-top motorcycle jousting, the slow-motion, but especially the cuts to the roiling ocean-- everyone shut the fuck up and let your bodies tell the story, even if the 'story' here is as simple as "I'mma fuck you up." It doesn't have to be original, it just has to be a cohesive vision, and honestly I think people would like MI2 a lot more if they acknowledged Woo accomplished his specific vision here.

I don't love MI2, but I respect it. Way more than, uh.

Mission Impossible 3:

god i hate this fucking movie but the EOTD is really obvious.

The only scene in this movie that works 100% is after the stupid vapid villain is gone and when the movie returns to the two fucking actors who carried this horrible script on their fucking backs.

Ethan has a charge in his head that is about to detonate and kill him. He's asks Julia to kill him and then bring him back to life to defuse it.

I... My hatred of this movie is legendary but I love this scene. I love Ethan staggering around like a drunkard bc he's blinded by pain. I love the way he explains how to shoot a gun to Julia. I love his little "Don't point it at me" and the way he likens the reload of a magazine to the flashlight in their kitchen, something both of them understand. I love the absolute trust here--

Esp bc I think it's clear Ethan could die right now, but he'd rather go out trusting his wife to save his life than to worry about it too much.

And Julia actually fucking saves him, and it's good! It's the only good scene in the movie other than Benji's second scene. And if MI3's goal was to dig into the Emotions of the franchise, then fine, this is the scene that's best at it.

Still the worst movie. Someone stop JJ Abrams from ever writing scripts.

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

holy shit i am stunned someone clipped this bit

I am straight up stealing Brendon Bigley's EOTD scene because he's right.

This moment, right after Ethan and Brandt have escaped the river, there's this incredible lull in the action where Brandt asks "Why would that work?" about Ethan's ridiculous flare trick to misdirect the KGB dudes with the rifles.

Ethan's confused about Brandt's question because... he didn't know it would work, he played a hunch.

Brandt's bitchy lil "'kaaaaay.... so what was your scenario" and the way Ethan actually smiles as Brandt tries analyzing the logic of what just happened and why.

This is the EOTD of GP because it's the film tipping its hat to everything its doing (and everything MI will become moving forward) in microcosm. MI is not about metriculous clockwork plots and spy intrigue, it's about heart and instinct and the fucking motto of the IMF: "I'll make it work." Tacitly, this convo between Brandt and Ethan is Brandt as audience surrogate and Ethan as filmmakers' surrogate.

Why did that work? Don't worry about it, just keep saying yes and we'll get through.

(Also the bit immediately after with the best Tom Cruise Is Short joke in the series, immaculate physical comedy, love it.)

Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation:

fuck all y'all I'm going to pick a single joke and obsess over it

FIRST 15 SECONDS

THAT'S IT THAT'S THE EYE OF THE DUCK

I'm not even remotely kidding, but this is related to BTS info about the gag. The script apparently only said "ethan and benji get into the car" but when it came time to film, TC was like "I can't just get into the car, it's the waste of a moment. hang on, i got it" and for the next take just DID that stupid flail across the car. Pegg's stunned look is real because no one knew he would do that.

As a writer, I love this moment because yes, just climbing into the car would have been a waste. It would have been an opportunity to put in a character moment just forgotten.

This is related to that lovely lil moment in Fallout where the team are meeting up with Walker after catching Lane, and there's no dialogue, but as they come up the stairs, Benji spots Walker, and he immediately flattens himself to the wall to get out of Ethan's way and looks back at Ethan for guidance. Ethan gives Benji a nod to say we're good, don't worry and they continue up the stairs.

These are little moments of characterization that are mostly built from actors who are just very comfortable with their characters, and this expediency of storytelling. Cut all the unneeded seconds, and make sure every second that remains in the movie is doing some kind of work.

so yeah that's the EOTD for RN.

Mission Impossible: Fallout

the EOTD for the entire MI franchise is the scene with the Parisian cop.

Ethan stopping everything to try to convince a bystander to leave and keep them from getting hurt. That's the soul of MI, the same emotional damage Ethan's carried since MI1.

Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning

"I was hoping it'd be you."

shocker, I'm not picking the moment when Ethan literally Says The Fucking Theme Out Loud, nope. I'm picking the moment Ilsa decides she too will follow the new IMF's batshit "beat the trolley problem by pushing the trolley off the tracks" creed, and gives up everything for a woman she doesn't know who is in over her head.

History repeats, and Dead Reckoning's obsession with closing the loop and creating internal consistency out of a series that has had five directors and seven films works perfectly for me. Venice is a visual recreation of Prague in MI1, with Ethan racing down dimly lit streets to save someone but is just not fast enough.

I also have this personal read on the scene as a refutation of Gabriel and the Entity, who represent an almost Calvinistic philosophy of inevitability and fate. Gabriel tells a lot of fucking lies for a guy fashioning himself to be a prophet, and he taunts Ethan about having to choose between Grace and Ilsa.

But Ethan doesn't chose shit, he's busy getting almost suffocated by Paris in an alleyway. Ilsa is the one who makes a decision, and for a person like Ilsa who literally was the person to ask Ethan to run away with her because all this spy shit is useless and meaningless

Ilsa is the one who picks, and she decides to save Grace. Not Ethan and not the Entity and not Gabriel.

Ilsa died to save an innocent (well mostly) woman, and that's the entire point of MI. There is no such thing as acceptable losses and if you can prevent someone's death, you do it.

AND THEN ETHAN SAYS THAT OUT LOUD TO GRACE BECAUSE "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME" "WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?" AND THAT'S MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

okay i'm done

#mission impossible #long post #spoilers for the entire series obvsly #Youtube

[succubusdaydream]

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again || Gale Dekarios Angst

A/N: Hi lovies! Sorry I’ve been absent; I recently moved and started a new job that actually gives me hours so my weeks are going to be pretty busy. BUT! I am working on BTGoTM in any spare time I have. I have finished part 6 and am working on part 7 and hopefully both will be up by the end of the month. In the meantime, here is a small angsty story to keep my mind a little fresh and to give myself a break from The Moon. Inspired by the title, a song from Phantom of The Opera, I give you Gale angst. And I know this song is sung by Christine to her father but every time I hear it I imagine this- Love you all <3!

Warning: Angst, canon BG3 violence, mid writing, inserted lyrics. Mystra when I catch you- when I catch you Mystra- Mystra when I catch you-

Masterlist

Word Count: 2401

---

                Weeks of fighting and battling a cult was finally coming to an end. The stem of the Netherbrain was mere feet away from you, twitching with gross squelches. The sky above Baldur’s Gate was un-seeable, the smoke from the burning buildings covering the skyline. Your party and yourself were covered in blood and soot from flames that burned around you. Each of you were breathing heavily as you took a moment to collect yourself.

                Behind you, your lover spoke up. “Can you feel it? We’re almost there.” Gale took a stance next to you, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite decode. “The brain… it’s high above the city now- far away from any innocents.” A pit formed in your stomach as his gaze turned to meet yours. “I can end this now- stop the Absolute and spare the city. The stage is set for my final act. Mystra’s bidding. And the redemption that lies beyond.”

                You quickly shook your head, grabbing his hand in yours. “What? No, Gale we’ve discussed this. I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself for her. City be damned, I won’t lose you. We said we’d all do this together.” You smiled at him taking a small step towards the brain’s stem. “We started this journey together and now we’ll finish it together. Just as we promised.”

                He pulled you back towards him, a soft smile taking over his expression. “I am right where I need to be,” he moved in front of you, his back now facing the stem and yours to your party, “I have no right to ask more of you.” Your brows creased and it was then that a noise reached your ears.

                A soft humming was heard through the chaos of the burning Baldur’s Gate, and when you turned your head, what you saw was a white doorway. You had looked around, realizing the rest of your friends were gone and, in a panic, you turned back to your lover. “What’s going on.”

                “It’s time I spirited you to safety, for this is a fate I must face alone. There is an endless wonder out there. Infinite possibilities. Perhaps fate will bring us back together, before the universe dims.” Tears began to fall down your cheeks and you gripped his arms, not wanting to let go.

                You began to beg, vision blurring with tears as he moved his hands to cup your face. But as quickly as you began to plead, he silenced you. His soft lips meeting yours in sting of sadness, tears of his own beginning to fall along with yours.

                And it was with one final ‘I love you’ that you felt your body begin to fall backwards. Your tried to reach out, seeing the form of your lover become engulfed with white as the world around you change from the city to forest. He had transported all of you far away enough that the blast of the orb would do you no damage, but you could still see the city from the ledge you now collapsed onto. As well as the brain’s silhouette.

                “Soldier! There you are!” Karlach’s voice rang from behind you and echoed in your ears. All the noise around you echoed as you stared at the far-off city in disbelief and betrayal. She had continued to try and speak with you, her warm hands caressing your back before you roughly shoved at her.

                You let out panic cries as you ripped your satchels and pouches off, dumping out all of their contents in search of something-anything- that could get you back to the city. Incoherent pleases and begging fell from your lips.  And when a scroll of a flying spell hit the ground, your shaky hands quickly grabbed it, tearing the paper and letting the magic flow through your body.

Your friends let out panic cries as you launched yourself off the edge, the wind whipping your hair in your eye and the strands stuck to your wet face. Despite the magic, your armor weighed you down and you knew. You knew somewhere that you weren’t going to make it and the pit in your stomach grew bigger and bigger.

                And finally, in a bright and almost beautiful way, a purple light shown from the top of the brain. Its brightness growing in size before disappearing and re-erupting with a loud boom. Your cries were drowned out by the noise and your body shook in the air as the edge of the blast just barely hit your form.  You could only stare in a stunned silence, watching in shock as the brain and all the nautiloids around it fell to the ground and sea below. Crashing into the city and demolishing even more of its beautiful structures.

                Your body slowly lowed to the ground, and you fell to your knees, not even affected by how the rocks and jagged ground of the forest clanked into your armor. You were never going to make it. Hells, you were only a little way away from the cliff your party stood on, watching in horror and sadness as the brain was taken out by their beloved friend.

And you wails soon echoed to their ears as you fell onto your hands, your body violently shaking with sobs as you pleaded with for any God to bring him back.

---

                “Up you go then, Gale. Best make this count… the whole world is watching.” Gale’s hand dug into the flesh of the brain’s stem as he hauled himself up to the crown.

                “Come to die? Come to kneels? Surrender and live-THRALL!” The voice of the Netherbrain echoed in his mind.

                “Thrall? No, I think you’re mistaken. My name is Gale of Waterdeep. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His form stood proudly in front of the Crown, though his eyes held a different expression. “Though our time together will be exceptionally brief. Farewell, and happy landings.”

                His eyes began to glow along with his hands as a dagger materialized from the Weave. He briefly sighed and gripped its handle, and with one final thought of his beloved, he plunged its blade into his chest. The sharp tip collided with the orb as he let out a cry of pain, driving it deeper with a disgusting squelch.

His final thought as his arms were violently stretched out? You. The image of your teary eyes staring into his with betrayal was the last thing he saw as his world erupted into bright lights of purple.

---

                Months had passed since the defeat of the brain. The beautiful green of trees and forests had fallen off as a cold blew through the city of Baldurs Gate with winter. The soft plush of the snow crunched beneath the feet of a hero as they somberly made their way through the darkening streets. The clouds covered the sky as even more snow fell from them, sticking to the hooded cloak that dawned the hero’s back.

                The city had quieted down as the sun set behind the dark clouds, leaving the streets in a quiet peace. Only a few people scattered the walkways, those closing shops or leaving the various taverns that finally decided to kick them out. Besides that, all the city was peaceful. The glow of the various streetlamps lighting the perfect path through the streets

                Soft hums sounded from the hero’s lips as they passed through the main city square. They stopped and turned to look at a statue that stood proudly in the center of said square. Its completion was recent, being built soon after the battle for the City was won.

The hero that was depicted was different from the one that stared at it. Even made of stone, the hair of the man looked soft and the spell in his hand was one to burn forever. A beautiful purple illuminating the plaque that was displayed on the base.

Gale Dekarios

Who gave his life for the citizens of Fearun

May his soul rest in peace

Hero of Baldur’s Gate

                Tears fell down cold red cheeks as the hero still standing turned away, continuing their walk to their true destination. It hadn’t taken them long to reach it as they soon came face to face with the tall gate the opened to the cemetery. They creaked open, stiff and frozen from the cold and snow that continued to powder the world.

You were once my one companion

You were all that mattered

You were once a friend and lover

Then my world was shattered

                The hero let out a shaky breath as they crossed under the gate, wiping the never-ending tears from their frozen cheeks. The only sound that was heard was the wind and the crunch of their footsteps as they made their way past a plethora of stones, each holding meaning to different people. But nothing to them.

Wishing you were somehow here again

Knowing that I never would

Dreaming of you won’t help me to do

All that you dreamed I could

As they went deeper into the site, the headstones grew bigger, a few smaller monuments and sculptures for those who could afford it. All dark stone coated in a plush white. The hums continued as their body started to shiver, the cold finally seeping through their cloak and boots.

Passing bells and sculpted angels

Cold and monumental

Seem, for you, the wrong companion

You were warm and gentle

Another gate stood in front of them, a soft blue shining from the bars in a tell-tale sign of a magic lock. With shaky hands, they held their palm to the keyhole, a soft glow emitting from it before a click rang out and the doors creaked opened. Behind it, a building with another set of glowing doors, angelic statues standing proud on each side to guard what it held inside.

Too many years

Fighting back tears

Why can’t the past

Just die?

As the hero unlocked the tomb doors and made their way inside, they finally broke. Falling to their knees, whining as their bones met the cold hard floor. Their sobs echoed through the tomb, echoing through their own ears as they held their hands to their chest. Hiccups racked their body, and they couldn’t tell which was making them shake more, the cold or sadness that ripped through their soul. Perhaps neither was good for them.

They tried their best to speak through their cries. “I-I wish you were here again. I wish I could at least say goodbye. You were supposed to be here with me! We were supposed to save the city together. She didn’t deserve your sacrifice. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you. What happened to the future we talked about?”

“I don’t want to feel this angry with you! You gave your life to save mine. But I never got to say goodbye! I-I’m trying to forgive you, my love. Teach me to live!” Their words were cut off by hiccups before they took a second to catch their breath, their cries quieting down to soft whimpers. “At least give me the strength to try, Gale. Give me the strength to try.”

They sat silently, staring at the concrete bed that lay in the center of the monument. They couldn’t even properly mourn their lover, as their coffin was empty. His body had disappeared when his spell went off. The only thing the hero could cry to was an empty slab of stone.

Time passed quietly; the silence only broken by the occasional hiccup from the frozen hero. And if it weren’t for the crunch of footsteps, they wouldn’t have noticed the equally cold hand that was placed onto their shoulder. The scent that hit their nose immediately told them who had joined.

“You’ll get sick if you stay like this for too long, Tav.” Astarions voice was soft as weight was removed from their back before being replaced by something lighter. A new cloak that wasn’t as cold or wet, soft furs doing a better job to keep the snow away than the fabric one now held by the pale elf. “I knew I’d find you here. No doubt this week has been rough for you.”

Tav slowly rose from their kneeling position, wiping their eyes and nose as they turned to finally face the vampire. He held a look of sympathy in his eyes, their crimson shade holding a sadness to them, though not as deep as the hero before him.

“It’ll be a year next week. I wanted to see him before I leave for Waterdeep soon. There’s not a lot left for me in Baldur’s Gate and according to Tara, his tower has accumulated quite a bit of dust in his absence.” Their eyes continuously drifted from Astarion to the stone coffin, small tears still falling from their eyes.

“I suppose that means you’ll be leaving me all alone then? I guess I’ll just have to put up with Wyll’s rant about Grand Duke duties and only occasionally seeing our dear Shadowheart.” His tone wasn’t one of seriousness. “But… I suppose if it gives you comfort and something to busy yourself, I can compromise with the occasional visit. So long as you promise to write.”

The hero smiled at him, taking his cold hand in their equally frozen one. “Thank you Astarion. And I promise I’ll write.”

The elf let out a sigh, taking a small step back. “Come along dear, I’ll walk you home. I wouldn’t want you freezing to death in a gloomy graveyard.” As he led them to the door, his arm was held back.

Tav took one last look in the tomb, releasing Astarion’s hand to reach into the pocket of their trousers. From it, they retrieved a letter. The note Gale had written for them the night he made his decision. The hero placed the folded paper on top of the concrete before raising the hands, muttering a spell with a soft pink light.

From the light, a beautiful purple flower that seemed to glow in the darkness was placed on top of the letter, forever keeping their lovers’ spirit company as they turned to finally leave. Taking Astarion’s hand once again, they locked the arcane gates behind them and walked into the now dark city as the snow continued to softly fall.

Help me say goodbye

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #tav reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfic #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #angst #angst fanfic #character death

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet // Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley x Plus Size Reader

Hi besties<333 This is my first time writing so pls don’t absolutely tear me to shreds (just a little bit is acceptable though). I’m planning on making a SFW alphabet for Buck soon as well but some of the letters had me drawing a blank lol. Also, although there’s not really much mention of it, this is with a plus size reader in mind. As a plus size girly myself, it sucks to read x reader stories and knowing in the back of your mind that it wasn’t written with your body type in mind (although there’s nothing wrong with writers that do that of course). I just thought I would add to the plus size reader community because there are barely any buck fics and i believe in my heart that he loves plus size women. Anyway, enjoy <3

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When y’all finish he’ll wait a few minutes before pulling out, head buried in your neck as his breathing gets back to normal. He’ll kiss your neck and tell you how good you were for him, before finally getting up to clean you up. After that he wants to lay with you and talk, just enjoying each other’s company, maybe y’all will make some food if you feel like it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: Probably his arms. He’s worked hard to be as fit as he is and he enjoys using his arms to move you/lift you while you’re having sex. He takes pride in his appearance, he knows he’s hot, but it’s an added bonus that he can lift you up and do whatever he (or you) wants.

Yours: I am of the firm belief that Evan Buckley is a thigh man. He loves how they feel in his hands, he loves how they look when you straddle him, he can’t get enough. He loves to see them jiggle when you move, or when he playfully smacks them. He loves thick thighs and I will die on this hill

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man has a BREEDING KINK OKAY!!! He loves to cum inside you, fucking deep into you and feeling his cum fill you up. He loves watching it slowly dripping out, so he can finger it back in. If that’s not your thing I think the next best place would be on your stomach, watching your face as he lets go, seeing the way he marks you up. He loves your little tummy, how it moves as he ruts into you, so he loves it when you let him cum all over it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I only call this a dirty secret because he would never tell anyone about this after the last time it happened and he got fired. He wants to fuck you in the fire engine SO BAD. He can’t help but think of the way you would look as he fucked into you quickly, trying not to get caught with your dress up around your waist. He knows it’s not gonna happen, he’d never hear the end of it from anyone in his life if it did, but god he wants to so bad.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Girl have we watched the same show?? This man FUCKS!!! We all know (and love) Buck 1.0, and we know he knows what to do. Buck 3.0 might mean him changing into, well, not a sex addict, but that doesn’t mean he forgot his training (🫡). I think he understands that every woman is different, and while he might not get it exactly right the first time, he’s a fast and eager learner, watching what exactly makes you squirm and moan the most for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Canonically, Buck LOVES when you ride him, and I agree. He loves to watch you move yourself on him, able to grab at your thighs, and your hips, and your chest. He also loves to move you on him, squeezing your hips tightly as he sets the pace if you start getting tired or if he just feels like it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I mean, he’s Buck, he’s truly a golden retriever of a man and cannot stay serious for long. I think he’s a bit of a mix, he can be serious in the moment, but at the end of the day, he’s still Buck, and Buck is silly goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it nicely trimmed, carpets match the drapes. In terms of his partner, he really doesn’t give a fuck. He’s seen it all and could not care less as long as he feels the way you wrap around him so perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Buck 3.0 is a man of TASTE, but that being said, I think he only really pulls out the romance during special occasions. Most of the time this man wants to freak nasty, but sometimes when he’s tired, or just feels especially in cuddly/clingy, he’ll be more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it pretty often, of course not when he has the option to fuck you instead (and you’re willing, of course), but if you’re not with him and he needs a quick release, he getting right to it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: I will scream this till the day that I die, this man wants a family more than anything. Whenever he’s inside of you, he can’t help but think about how pretty you’d look with your belly all round with his babies.

Praise: Look at this pathetic little guy, he needs to be praised, he thrives on it. He loves to hear how good he feels, how good he’s making you feel. This goes both ways. He’s in your ear immediately telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look.

Spanking: HEAR ME OUT!! While I’m not sure he would actually bend you over his knee (but honestly the more I think about it he might) he would LOVE to give your ass a nice little swat as you’re riding him. He loves the sound it makes, and the sound you make because you’re not expecting it. I don’t think he’d ever do it hard enough to hurt too much, but I think enough to make your ass a little red would definitely be something he could get behind (lol).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t have a ring cutter in the kitchen for nothing<3

I think he likes to have sex at home the most, on the bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter. You name it, he wants to fuck you there. His favourite is the counter because he loves seeing you being so domestic in the kitchen. Making dinner, cleaning up, whatever, he wants you right then and there and cannot wait. He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your neck before slowly turning you around to face him and lift you onto the counter to have his way with you.

While he’s moved on from having sex in public places that could (will) get him fired, he’s still into it, but in less obvious places. If y’all are in his car and you’re looking a little too good in his passenger seat, he loves an empty parking lot quickie. Front seat, back seat, whatever you want, he’d be pulling you onto him as soon as he puts the jeep in park.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Girl ANYTHING gets him going, it would take one look, one touch, one word and this man would be ready to go. I think what really gets him going though is seeing you with kids or getting along so well with the 118. This man truly just wants a silly little family and someone that can get along with the 118fam, so seeing you like that has him making up a stupid excuse to leave a little early so he can take you home and have his hands all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Like I said before, I don’t think he would do anything to hurt you too much, other than the occasional light spanking or biting. He would also not be into any kind of age play or pet play, he’s pro kink but it’s just not for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man is a giver and I stand by this. Dear god he loves nothing more than having you spread open for him, hands tangled in his hair as he makes himself at home between your thighs. He loves having his hands gripping your thick thighs, feeling them on either side of his head. When you start to get squirmy from the overstimulation he’ll place a large hand over your lower stomach, holding you still as he pushes you over the edge again.

With all that said, he will definitely not say no to getting head. He loves seeing you look up at him while you’re on your knees, trying to take all of him. He’ll keep a hand in your hair, pulling it softly every now and then, and he can’t help but moan and whine as he gets closer and closer, eventually cumming down your throat as he squeezes his eyes shut.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day, but most of the time he likes it rough and fast. He loves a good quickie, meaning it kinda has to be more fast paced and rough, and he’s pretty easy to get riled up, so when you drop any sort of hint, he’s on you immediately and ready. On other days where he’s feeling extra clingy and lovey, he’ll be more of a slow and sensual guy, but I think for the most part he loves to fuck you deep and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Like I said, he loves a good quickie. A lot of the time he craves a quickie before work, needing to feel you before his long shift. I think they happen pretty often, but he’d much rather take his time with you, using his fingers and mouth before he fucks you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as there’s clear communication he’s down to try pretty much anything, he’ll do anything to make you happy (within reason). I think he’s also a risk taker (also within reason, he has to think about not getting fired again, of course). Buck 1.0 is still inside him somewhere when it comes to sex so he definitely loves a little risk, but he’s grown enough to know where the line is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While he would love to go as many rounds as possible, I think it would realistically be 2-3, lasting about 10-15 minutes each round. I think he would be the type to like having some time between rounds, tension still high as you talk and lay around before he's back on you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Once again, he doesn’t have a ring cutter in his kitchen for nothing<3

He likes them, he definitely owns a few toys of his own. Vibrators, cock rings, some handcuffs or restraints, he’s very open to anything that increases y’alls pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does it sometimes not really meaning to, like he does something and you’re like….dear god…and maybe he doesn’t notice the first time but the second time he does and WILL keep going until you snap. He loves the way you get all squirmy and whiny and desperate for him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So vocal!!!! Literally that meme thats like “y’all afraid to make noise in the bedroom?? i be in my girls ear like…” He loves dirty talk (on both ends) and he can’t help but let out low moans when you’re clenching around him. He also loves hearing your breathless whimpers, making him feel like he’s doing a good job, and encouraging him to pull more sounds from your lips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he was in a relationship during the whole sperm donor thing, it would be the longest few weeks for both of y’all. I imagine the first time he has an appointment, you make sure you’re waiting for him in a cute little matching set, knowing how excited he was to finally be buried inside you again, hearing you whine as he fills you up. He’s so frustrated when his appointment doesn’t work out that he doesn’t let you know how it went, instead being unpleasantly surprised when he sees you sprawled out on his bed when you get home and unable to do anything about it. He wants nothing more than to rip your pretty little set off your body and run his hands up and down your soft curves, but he can’t, and it’s torture. You apologize (but he will hear none of it because it was a lovely surprise, just shitty circumstances), and instead you change into an oversized shirt and sweatpants to enjoy a completely normal (and not sexual at all) night on the couch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, thick, no complaints <3

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH!!! This man is thinking about sex 24/7, and if he could, his hands would be on you at all times.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Most of the time I think he stays up for a while, just hanging out and talking to you. But if he comes home after a long shift he’s fucking GONE in 5 minutes tops.

Likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this! Or I would love to hear y’alls thoughts on any of the prompts<33

Also let me know if there’s any other character you’d like me to do this for (not just 911 characters)!

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x plus size reader #buck x plus size reader #plus size reader #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #evan buckley x reader #buck x reader

[lldolphin]

Hiii, I was the one who requested the Toby headcanons, and you did an amazing job<3 I love that you are realistic. I was not sure if you were okay with doing relationship headcanons, but I would love to read your take on Toby in a relationship👀

absolutely! i just posted a list of things i am not comfortable writing as well for anyone else requesting! Toby is DEFINITELY in high demand!! my mans is WANTED 📈📈📈

warnings: slight!nsfw, emotionally unavailable partner, manipulative relationship, possessiveness, overly obsessive love

TOBY RODGERS !DATING! HEADCANNONS.

God, he just thinks you're the most beautiful thing in the world, he could never let you out of his sight.

Never. He would never let you leave without him striding behind you, in your shadow. What if some guy tries to touch you? What if some guy tries to look at you? He has to be there to know who to kill later.

God forbid you ask to be alone today, the one time you did he locked you in your room.

He could hear you crying for him on the other side, his back leaned against the wood as he himself might've shed a few tears. He placed his hand against the wood and mumbled things he thought were comforting. "I know, hun...It's for your own guh-good, okay? You would've gotten hurt out there.." He crooned eerily, followed by a whistle.

But the night he decided to make this up to you? You were seeing stars.

He leaves BIG welts of purple on your body. Bite marks, scratch marks, hickeys. Anything to let every motherfucker out there know that you are HIS.

You are always comforting him, always making sure he's happy. He could never get sick of your comforting words.

But when it's time for him to comfort you? He doesn't know how. He kisses you and leaves you to figure it out yourself. He can't handle helping someone else, because he isn't the best he could be.

Your body is his entire reason for living. On a mission? His eyes are on you, ogling you. Making him food? He can't keep his hands off of you, wrapped around your waist.

He is SO in love with you, it's crazy. To the point where it gets a little scary. You saw pictures of yourself sleeping on his phone while peering over his shoulder. When you asked, he told you it was because you looked so pretty.

"Yuh-You looked so pretty..Even suh-sleeping. Look at you, a-all mine.."

that's all! thanks for the request! ❤️

#headcannons #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #fyp #slenderverse #tumblr #ticcitoby #tobiasrodgers #tobyrodgers

[beomnoullistheorem]

SO KI-KISSABLE–!

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Non-idol AU — Boyfie!Yeonjun × Girlfie!AFAB!Reader

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Appetizer — You can't kiss your boyfriend without him teasing the life out of you even when he is asleep.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Disclaimer — This is PURE FICTION : Nothing in this work aligns with the idols' character, moral and their real life. The characters are all legal adults ( 18+ ) and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Readers are humbly advised to read the Contains and Disclaimer before they read.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Word Count — 2.3k+ (bye)

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Contains — FLUFF, minor friendly! kisses (my obsession with kisses and his lips at peak), a little of flashbacks, hyper reader ig, soft Yeonjun, flirty yeonjun, and of course as title says— a lots of kisses, banter in the end ig, a little cuddling and kissing almost taking turns to make out(?)

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Noulli's Note — as a proof I am alive and this thought randomly mushroomed when I was about to sleep so boom! I had fun writing this really, I'm the one who complains writing is harder than physics but this one changed my mind~ my first full-fldeged intended fluff, hope you all like it <3

Uh well. I wrote this in sheer brainrot (the quickest fic I have ever worked on in less than 24 hours) I'm too scared but Idk why. The ending is again half-assed (T^T)

Your eyelids flutter open when sunlight directly slaps you in face at dawn, groaning and cursing at the sun to- "lower your brightness, sun!" It is the best night you have ever had and sun can't be so cruel to cock-block it so soon, it is your first night (actually morning) with him.

The rods in your eyes can barely contain the light seeming to flash into your eyes. You await some kind butterflies or birds to fly over in your room and spread the curtains like in the Cinderella.

...

Well no birds or flies seem interested in closing curtains for you, the fact still not settling in your morning head.

"Ugh, wish I was Cinderella.."

Your mind surely is taking time to yet work, until you deduce that no one is gonna block the sunlight for you. To avoid yourself of the struggle you turn to other side, to your boyfriend for almost two weeks now, the best and the only blessing in your life.

He is also the tease master who has given you heart attacks last night with his cheeky lines and cuddles.

Yeonjun is made to cherish his beloved with everything in his will and ability— his actions especially servicing and romantic to his sweetheart (aka you (me too)), he knows exactly when and how easily to trigger your heart and have you burst into a reaction bomb of squeals.

It isn't that you're passive in love, your reactions just swell his heart and motivate him in a way that he feels worthy to have you. Hence, teasing you is his side profession in your relationship where he takes a fine a share of delight in it.

It is not your first time to have fallen in love, yet your heart is explosive at any of the things Yeonjun does to you: from the little carding of hairstrands behind your ears to soft kisses, anywhere, on you. And he loves that about you, almost exploding into your squeals and laughter that he is all heart eyes to binge watch.

As if kissing the back of your hands as a pledge to treasure you forever had not robbed you off the ability to speak when Yeonjun asked you, "will you be my girlfriend, darling?" Your heart had almost combusted out at the soft touch of his lips, for almost a second your hands wished to be glued there, at his mouth. It's had taken minutes for you to say yes.

The first kiss wasn't as embarrassing as establishing your relationship — his lips saying hi to yours for the first time was something really soft. His lips were more plushy than the plushies themselves, so plump, so sweet and so wide— capturing yours into his lips was so natural, it felt like once in, never out.

It had you wanting to continue for long, your lips finding home onto his. Hardly letting him pull off of your lips, you had him breathless then and everytime you kissed him. He has consumed you wholly since then — from the thought beginning your day to the ones ending it, he has become your everything.

Yeonjun certainly does own your heart rentfree, but his lips swarm the whole of it.

Developing a soft spot for his lips can't really let you miss this sight when you turn to him: he is facing you; deep in slumber while his hands seem lonely, resting on the mattress with nothing to grope on or drape around; his lips plumped as if they already aren't and his closed eyes with his pretty lashes painting their shadows at under eye.

Yeonjun is cute, his feather like lineaments always doted on, but this is... something else.. a sleepy frame so adorned with beautiful hair ornamenting his glowing face resembling a sparkly water under sunset. The tiniest features on his face meet the light, the smallest of minute acne on his cheeks, facial hair highlighted, his adam's apple and collar bone glimmering along his face, he looks so extraordinarily gorgeous.

Your heart is doing gymnastics with excitement at max, your lazy sleepiness immediately whooshing away at the sight your eyes refuse to blink at.

How is he so beautiful, and why- mine? are the thoughts beatboxing at perfect sync with your pounding heart, the said beat drumming in your own ears to blur out the noises of chirping sparrows and beeping traffic down your building.

You are zoned out in him, your eyes seeming to photograph all his beauty into your memory, your cognizance capturing every little detail at its finest bit by bit. You don't even seem to have the mind to grab your phone under the pillow & actually photograph it, when your eyes now discover his rosy lips.

Are there rose petals under the skin of his lips? you mindlessly wonder when your hands work faster than your impulses do and trace his lips but you retract. You can't touch him so he wakes up and barely give you any chance to adore him peacefully by flirting the hearts out of you. He is so mesmerizing, everything blurs around him, forming an enhanced portrait of him.

"He is.. so ki-kissable-!" A little squeal already escapes your mouth before you could even process it and you turn away, calming your palpitations almost bursting out those not-so little squeals and laughters of excitement which will waken him, undoubtedly.

Palming at your heart, almost strangling your chest and exhaling as noiselessly as you could, you face him again, hoping you'd relax but your cheeks are the best place for crimson tints to happily color at, in these moments with your boyfriend.

His plumpy lips are glossed by sunlight, urging you from the cores of core with alarms "kiss him!", again & again banging in your head. Your gulp your saliva down, your lips eventually feeling tingly all of a sudden now that you're close to his face, in the blink of an eye.

At such proximity, his little snores backed up by his soft raspy voice isn't missed by your sensitive ears, saving it all to your memory.

It seems like you can't find any peace from your insides so you plant your lips at his, your eyes closing shut and your heartbeat exploding yet calm enough to let you savor this moment, stealing a soft kiss from your sleepy boyfriend who is so gorgeous bathed in the rays of dawn.

His pout perfectly houses your lips, you're now lost in its touch stirring so much bliss inside. It is the way you're bewitched with just his soul, his existence, flush & explode at his flirtings, gladly let him rule and reside in your heart.. you would actually admit that he has you wrapped around his finger (but never to him).

Seconds do not hesitate to turn into minutes, yet you're slow as ever, kissing him as if time has stopped for you, hands already toying with his hair. You pull back in realization, getting touchy will out your mischief. You glance at him, he is still unfazed. He must be sleepless from the way you've entertained him with your puny attempts to flirt back till midnight.

His snores are still ringing in your ears with his warm breath fanning your face. You are still inable to actually turn away and wake up when you're swamped adoring his little features like the way his mole at his cheekbone sinks into the pillow the more he curls into himself in sleep, or the way he has no idea you've kissed him like that and sleeping like a cute duck.

The fact once again immersing you in your profession of staring holes into your boyfriend in adoration. So immersed that you don't really observe his smirking lips.

"No more kisses, angel?"

With Widened eyes, an audible gasp, you're turning away in an audible, flamboyant(-ly uncool) manner – entertaining that tease of a cunning fox who was awake all this time. So flushed and barely able to utter, you turn your back at him.

"Y-You weren't sleeping all this time, jjunie!?" You no longer have any idea if you're accusing him or actually questioning him.

"You kiss so good that sleeping felt wrong." His slender fingers drape around your arm and already begin to turn you back to face him, while you're resisting with all your might to hide your flushed face and your poor self, suffering with a mini heart attack again.

"So pretending to be asleep felt good?" You finally croak out, your voice barely audible. You feel so embarrassed, he has been awake this time, drinking in all your messy features and your puny mischief of trying to kiss him— no, kissing him.

"You were kissing so good assuming I was asleep," he rasps softly, laughing in the end. "Of course that felt good."

"I'll feel better if you kiss me again, by the way," he whines with groggy voice sounding utterly awful to you. How is he still so good at teasing you so early in the morning?

"..."

"Oh come on, now! kiss me more!"

You've almost begun to shed your remorses to have taken advantage of your boyfriend like that before he has 'no more kisses, angel?'-ed you & your heart almost popped out at his sudden rise at your kiss.

Yet his whines are a little too adorable, you wish to listen to them more even with that little pang of regret to have him whine like that when you're the one who has begun this. He is acting so entitled, that just encourages you to tease him more.

Hiding your laughter at his whines is a little tedious when he is already wriggling you with his super strength already, shaking you vigorously to have you facing him.

After a few more struggles, he successfully faces you to him, you still refusing to look him in his eyes to hide your smiling face. Not that he is able to open his eyes as wide as an owl in the sunlight, yet he still doesn't stop his little groans and whines.

"That was the best good morning I've ever gotten and you're refusing to give me more of it?" His fingertips play at your lips which you instantly slap away earning a lazy 'ow!' from him.

Even after waking up where our system takes a tad bit of time function well, Yeonjun really does awaken the butterflies in your tummy with his witty way of titling your mischief with the 'best good morning' right after he has awakened.

That feels really good to listen, your heart and you in sync with simping thoughts.

"Please, Baby? Kiss me again?" He pouts now, voluntarily, plumping his lower lip up in dramatic sadness as he looks down. You can't contain your laugh until you pull him in a kiss again. Smiling as a kid who's gotten his candies as he asked, it is rather Yeonjun taking it to a further step.

Yeonjun is already so into kissing you, his lips now playing at yours, brushing at them ever so softly that it tickles on yours lips. Your hands relax on his nape while he takes the charge, hovering over you and relishing on every corner of your lips.

He is so adept with skills, that simple nibble of his lips on yours could have you weakened from head to toe, all pliant for his lips traversing from your cheeks to your jaw. He is so perfect on top of you, lacing his fingers with yours and showering so many giggly smooches at your neck. Purposely he traces a little of his teeth on your neck, earning breathy gasps and praises from your honeyed voice.

His lips are never chapped, thanks to you always kissing and biting onto them, softening them from time to time. The said lips begin tickling and marking your jaw with marks that blush at his lips.

You face him towards you again, your lips are already missing his playful smooches. Kissing him is so different to him kissing you, the feel so playful and so.. good. It is normal to crave more at this point but to actually cuddle your lips with his, yet he doesn't let you think of anything.

His kisses so teasing that they feel so not enough yet too good to stop. It is when you think you can collide in his lips more, parting them for him to prod inside, he parts away displaying his swollen lips.

You shoot him a 'why did you stop' look with your half-lidded, kiss-needy eyes, until he opens his mouth. Uttering the most annoying words ever, and ruining the mood as the yeonjun-usual of today.

"Should brush, you stink."

Seconds before there were lovey-dovey flowers budding and blooming inside of you but now it feels like your boiler could burst at any second at his words, your shyness and a little embarrassment already craving you with the sheer desire to be swallowed by the bed monster.

Rosy tinges on your face fade with the smile containing raging volcano forms on your face, your nerves popping a little and asking him to say that again, which he does so, again, plopping beside on the bed, with a smirk dancing on his face.

"You need to brush, angel~" stressing on the need to brush and adding a taunting tone at the angel to mock you, he sighs at you. "You stink."

"As if you smell like flowers," you scoff at him, counting down to 10 to calm your boiler. "Who wants to kiss your inflated stinky lips? they're too bad to taste."

Yeonjun observes you pouting your lips and cursing at him as you get off of the bed and fold the blankets, throwing so many scolding at his face at every lock of your eyes with his. It is that same hearty smile that forms on his lips when he watches you with heart eyes.

"You. You can't seem to let go of my lips," he proudly boasts at your soft spot for his lips. He is spot on with his come-back, so true that you almost give in admit defeat.

Damn fox, so kissable and so annoyingly right.

"Brush," he demands concealing his laughter. "Will you, with me?"

"YeAh."

I ain't kissing him for the rest of my life, you rage inside.

"After breakfast let's make out, love."

"Okie."

#yeonjun fluff #yeonjun soft hours #yeonjun soft thoughts #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x oc #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x oc #yeonjun imagines #txt imagines

[aquaquadrant]

“He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-” “I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too?” PAIN PAIN PAIN

“That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself?” Tango buddy i hate to break it to you but i still think you’re punishing yourself 

“Traps. He forgot to look for traps.” proof of how long he’s been away oh i am unwell

“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?” I am going to write self insert fanfiction just to punch him in the face so help me god

“Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!” THAT'S MY BOOOOOOY 

“He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.” and what if i started crying right here right now. 

“Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.” and that's it right there, isn't it? This whole series has been exploring the idea of what makes us good and evil, and how easy it is to go from one or the other. The supposed “good” player, Bravo, acting more evil than ANY hels character we’ve ever met. Boom. 

“Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?” my jaw physically dropped in real life HOO BOY. 

“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!” “Says who?” Tango asks.” I actually think this whole conversation is GREAT for Tango’s mental health. Like, i hope this is healing that little hels shaped scar thats been in him since he left. The part of him that always thought he deserved to go back. 

“And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back. “... fuck. What am I doing?” been asking myself that about you this whole time buddy. 

“The sword clatters to the ground.” oh i am crying ugly tears rn. That whole realisation/explanation. I’m not gonna copy paste it here but. Fucking beautiful. I am crying. 

“For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” and there it is there it is THERE IT IS!!! THERE IT IS!!!! 

“Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” I would die for Jimmy I would like that on the record please.

“the entire Double Life server has joined Hels.” I’m CACKLING get got Tango you’ve got FRIENDS sucker!! 

“Atlas grins.” ALL THE BETTER FOR ME TO KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT

Fantastic chapter!!! So well worth the wait, I loved every word of it. EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU AQUA!!!! 

auughhh i love asks like this, it’s so great to see what lines resonate w my readers bc like. when i’m writing, i spend so much time reading them and tweaking them and so they kinda lose their impact for me? so this is just really neat to see <3

#hels to pay au #HTP ask

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 3

Pairing: Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW 18+, Oral (male receiving), Masturbation

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything remotely smutty... that should be a warning in itself. That being said I had so much fun writing this part and can't wait to see where my brain ends up taking this. Anyways, enough of me yappin. Enjoy :))

---

Vox couldn't help the smirk that crossed his screen as he watched your nervous form slowly approach his desk. Before he was able to speak again, he heard your tiny voice squeak out.

"M-Mr. Vox... Sir... I am so sorry for being late this morning. This is the first time that I've done this. I-It was an honest mistake and I promise that-" But before you could finish your sad excuse of an apology, Vox interrupted you by raising one of his hands.

"Y/N, it's quite alright! I know that you are always good about being on time," He said smoothly and laid back in his chair.

He watched as your anxious expression slowly turned into one of confusion.

"Oh... so you're not gonna feed me to your sharks?" You asked nervously, rubbing the back of your neck- trying your best to avoid any kind of eye contact. Vox must have thought you were joking by the way a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Did he not know that you were being dead serious??

"Oh quite the contrary! Please, have a seat," He said motioning towards one of the black, leather seats situated across from his desk.

You eyed him suspiciously before doing as you were told. Once situated in the chair, you got to take a good look at the TV demon in front of you.

You always thought that he looked good while passing him in the halls. But being up close, you were able to notice details about him that you didn't see before. One of those not so little details being that he was utterly handsome. How could a man with a TV for a face look so-

Vox caught you in your brief stare, causing a light blush to come across your cheeks. He sent a smirk your way and watched as you fidgeted in the seat.

Oh, he was loving every second of this.

"So if I'm not in trouble then... why am I here?" You asked quietly, not entirely sure you wanted to know the answer.

"I am so glad you asked! While going through some writing submissions, I came across the one that you submitted a while back-" At the mention of your work, your ears perked up- a mental victory for Vox, "- And I just wanted to start off by saying WOW! I am thoroughly impressed with what I read,"

You had to be dreaming.

No way this was actually happening.

"Are- Are you serious?" You asked with a beaming smile that made Vox's heart rate spike.

"Of course! You truly have a gift,"

The best part, he wasn't lying.

-- flashback to the previous night --

Upon arriving back at the VVV tower- Vox instantly went to look for your writing submissions.

He hired people specifically to go through and narrow down the best submissions of the month. The narrowed down bunch would then be sent to himself- for him to ultimately decide whether or not they're television worthy.

Sitting down at his desk, Vox quickly found your file. Much to his surprise, you had only submit one over the course of the years that you had worked for him. Regardless, he opened it and began reading.

Vox wasn't much of a reader but even he could tell that you were good at what you did. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Your words flowed beautifully into one another, captivating the overlord almost instantly. It was truly a sinister love story. A forbidden love between an angel and sinner. Oh and his favorite part?

Without a doubt- the smut.

But this wasn't your average porn script.

It was erotic yet, truly passionate. Vox didn't know how but, you were able to capture and convey the connection that the main characters had with each other. Hell, he felt it.

But like- actually felt it.

While reading the alluring words on one of his monitors, he began to palm himself through his tight dress pants. As he moved on, he found himself becoming more hot and bothered. Soon enough, he freed his stiff erection from the confines of his pants.

With a tight hand, he began a slow pace on himself. Vox felt truly immersed in the scene he was reading- maybe a little too immersed.

He imagined that it was you and him performing the scene- not the characters you had created.

"Her lips slowly wrapped around the tip, tasting the salty arousal that began to ooze out. She relished in the groan that her beloved ushered out above her. Ingrid's Y/N's lashes fluttered as she began to ease his my cock down into her throat. She pulled back fully- watching with seductive eyes as a string of spit connected the two of them us. Ingrid She placed both hands around Luca's my slobbery shaft and gave an oh so innocent look. Teasingly, she began to kitten lick at the tip. Before he I knew it, her mouth and hands began a delicious pace. Her head bobbed up and down with the added sinister twist and tug of her hands. She moaned quietly as Luca's my hands found a tight grip in her hair-"

Vox found himself panting slightly as his impending climax was about to release. He glanced down at the hand that was tugging at his rock hard cock. He groaned imagining you underneath his desk; looking up with fire in your eyes as your small hands moved along his length, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

He couldn't help but moan loudly as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips bucked furiously up into his hand- imagining it was your pretty mouth instead. He shuddered at the thought of you swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Vox felt himself blue screen before inevitably causing a blackout throughout the entire pride ring.

After coming down from what had to of been his most intense orgasm yet, Vox had all the information he needed.

He also needed to get rid of those damn submission reviewers.

-- back to the present --

"Wow Mr. Vox, that's very kind of you. Thank you sir, it truly means the world," You replied, trying your best to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"You deserve all the praise in the world Y/N," Vox said with a small smile. You felt yourself blushing again, not used to all this praise.

You also didn't fail to notice the tiny heart beat that occurred between your crossed legs, one that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You tell yourself it's because of how much your work matters to you. Definitely not the fact that your sexy ass boss is staring at you with a panty-dropping smile.

Yeah, definitely not that.

"I want to make that little script of yours into something more. It has all the potential to become a hit movie! That is of course, if you were interested," As soon as the words left Vox's lips, you shot up eagerly.

"YES! I- I mean yes. That would be a great opportunity for me sir," You down played how excited you were but deep down, you knew he could see right through you.

Vox couldn't help but think of how adorable you looked when excited. He wanted to make all your dreams come true if it meant he got to see you like this more often. Who was he kidding?

He already planned on making it happen.

"I am so glad to hear that," Vox rose to his feet and slowly walked around his desk to where you now stood.

You gulped lightly as he towered over your tiny frame. He examined your features briefly before extending his hand out.

"I can't wait to start working with you"

---

A/N: Sorry for this being short but the next few parts are in the works ;)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin vox #vox #vox the tv demon #vox x reader #vox smut

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

#there is actually nothing morally wrong with running an account that just reuploads ppl's artwork or their jokes or their cosplays #if you just put a VISIBLE LINK in the description of your post with proper credit then it would be beneficial for everyone #because you can get your little clout or whatever it is you want by putting a bunch of same-category content on a page #but nobody's getting fucked over because if your post blows up then people just get FUNNELED to the source #because it's placed so plainly where everyone can see it #and yeah it's better to retweet or reblog but #on the rare occasion that I see my shit reuploaded on tumblr WHICH IS WEIRD BC I MAKE MY OWN POSTS HERE but anyway #someone making their own post where they upload my stuff. and it's always the floral self portraits so let's say it's a post with all those #if I scroll to the bottom and it says like. Artwork by Serglesinner on Twitter <-- clickable link [Sergle's Prints] <-- clickable link #to my etsy #I'm like oh okay and all the anger leaves my body and I'm like ah I see. and I toss the rock aside #like oh okay so you actually care that a person made these pieces. Instead of posting the caption ''women <3'' or smth #like you've GOTTA die if you do that. but if you just link back #or if you go to the effort of writing like a description with a BLURB? like it's a damn museum. like a light paragraph of info #about what the art is and who made it and their links #I am literally sucking you in a strange and peculiar manner. that is extremely helpful #and maybe other artists don't want this AT ALL and they'd rather people not reupload even if it is credited #but I feeeeeeeeel. like 99% of the time this would solve the issue #reposters could genuinely be helping ppl. sometimes the repost gets more traction than the real thing #as long as it credits the creator then that's an okay thing to happen! #that can land somebody a sale! a commission order! a new fan! A JOB #A JOB!!!!!!!!!! #sergle.txt #I didn't write this eloquently AT ALL what the fuck ever barkbarkbarkbark