#no one asked for this but I cannot stop thinking about it

[wrioluvr]

subby vampire x dom male reader pt 2 pt 1

thank u guys for liking kliff!! he's so baby. felt kinda mean and thought about a scenario where reader is like, a regular monster fucker and poor kliff finds out he hooked up with another vampire and gets super jealous teehee... but this is wholesome tho.

content: reader is kind of a player, blowjob (reader receiving), reader loves tormenting the poor old man, more plot-focused than pure smut

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱

after visiting kliff at his crumbling manor a few more times, you decided that you were getting tired of making the trip out into the woods everytime, and invited him over to your house instead, an invitation he eagerly accepted. though he kept a calm composure, inwardly, his thoughts were running wild - he would finally be able to bask in a whole home full of your scent.... maybe even steal a few small trinkets he could toy with whenever he felt lonely... or... or even get a feel of your bed, where he fantasised about waking up next to you and spending the rest of his days as your faithful househusband. oh, how delightful.

"thank you ever so much for allowing me to enter your abode. i am most honoured." thanking you profusely, he elegantly sat down on your sofa, only to immediately scrunch up his face in discomfort. you stared at him, puzzled. "what's wrong? you don't like my home?"

"no, no... it's not that... it's just that... this scent is so familiar. in an unnverving way..." he mumbled, talking to himself. suddenly, a look of recognition, mixed with horror, dawned on his face. "correct me if i'm wrong, but... there's not a chance you've had another vampire over.... is there?"

"oh! i forgot you vampires have a heightened sense of smell. yeah, i hooked up with another vampire like, 3 weeks ago." you said nonchantly, like it was the most insignificant thing ever. kliff merely gaped at you, aghast at your casualness. "so... so... i'm not your first vampire relationship?" he asked meekly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

"well, yes. i dated, hmm...." you start to list them on your fingers. "two vampires, one werewolf, one merman... oh, right, and one evil ass fairy. he was mean."

poor kliff looked like he was about to collapse, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. thankfully he was sitting down, otherwise he would have fallen over. "where on earth do you even find these creatures?"

"i get around."

"and you never thought to mention this?!"

"i mean, i didn't really think it was important..."

kliff sighed, suddenly feeling a little insecure at his complete lack of romantic experience in contrast to your many flings. "may i at least see what your past vampire suitors looked like?" he didn't want to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling very clingy, even more than usual. he had to be better than all your exes! so that you wouldn't leave him like you left them!

"sure. here you go." you pull out your phone and show him a picture, only for kliff to gasp loudly and clutch his chest even tighter. what a drama queen.

"HIM."

"you know him??"

"that little whore was going around sleeping with every man and woman in town a hundred years ago! i cannot BELIEVE he is still so promiscuous in this day and age. he even seduced you..."

"woah! language, kliff!"

kliff stops mid-ramble and clears his throat in embarassment. "my apologies. this is most uncouth of me. i do not know why i am getting so frustrated over this. the two of you are not seeing each other anymore, correct?"

"yes. you're the only one i'm seeing right now."

"and, if i may be so bold to inquire,,,, how was he like as a lover?"

"he was kinda annoying." kilff let a smirk escape his lips upon hearing this. "i knew it-" "the head was good though."

"what- what does 'head' mean?"

"he sucked my dick." you say bluntly.

"oh, good heavens."

"don't be a prude! wait... kliff, are you jealous of him?"

"i most certainly am not."

"at your big age? please be serious." you tease, amused at how possessive he suddenly got.

"do NOT make fun of me. i said i'm not." the pout adorning his face said otherwise.

kliff barely noticed it, but slowly he inched closer and closer to you, eyes scanning your neck as he frantically searched for bite marks.

"did he bite you anywhere? did it hurt? you must know, i would never even consider drinking from you, right?" he took your hand, eyes searching desperately for validation, any form of praise that indicated you thought he was the better vampire.

you rolled your eyes. "jeez, kliff. i didn't take you for the possessive type. don't worry, none of my previous vampire lovers have drunk from me."

that did little to reassure him, since he was on the same page. "then... then... i must be better at this 'head' thing!" he declares, face full of misplaced determination. you almost double over laughing.

"it's not a competition! my god, you're so unserious."

"it does not matter to me! i must be better than that lustful shame of a vampire at every aspect. especially since we are of the same species."

"okay, okay. calm down. i'll let you try."

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"just let me know you can't breathe or whatever. i'll guide you through your first time, yeah?" kliff nods, a blush extremely prominent on his undead features as he knelt between your thighs. he quite enjoyed this... submissive position.

"also- watch the fangs." the authoritative, yet gentle tone of your voice sent shivers down his spine.

he himself could be considered a monster, but he paled in comparison to the monster that sprung out of your pants once he clumsily undid the zipper. kliff gasped, a look of pure lust and nervousness written all over his expression as your slightly erect cock hovered over his face.

"so... basically... you just put it inside your mouth, then start sucking it. easy enough, right? come on, don't tell me you've never heard of a blowjob in your entire existence."

"of course i have..... i admit, i own quite a bit of... erotic fiction." he mumbles, eyes still on your cock, cheeks growing redder by the second. "but, goodness, it's so different seeing a real phallus up close. especially one of your size."

"phallus??? just say cock."

"mhm...." he hesitates, unsure where to even begin. flustered, he looks up imploringly, silently begging for you to guide him.

you chuckle at his frozen state, completely at a loss on what to do. "so needy. i'll help you."

tenderly, you run a hand through his soft hair, applying just a little bit of power to tug his head forward, guiding him to your tip. obediently, he opened his mouth, taking the shaft inside. it was warm, his rough tongue grazing over your tip, causing you to grip his hair a little tighter. kliff let out a masochistic moan in response. slowly, he ventured further down your length, but unable to reach the base without gagging. he looked up at you with apologetic eyes, but you squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was doing well. "good job, kliff. you're a natural." spurred on by your praise, kliff found a lewd rhythm, mouth bobbing up and down in a continuous passionate attempt to make you feel good.

your small grunts of pleasure kept him going. panting, you ask, "you sure you've never done this before, kliff? you're so good." he frantically shakes his head, mouth still full of cock, as if the idea that he engaged in such intimate acts with anyone but you was horrifying. he was loyal like that. it was intoxicating, the head only vampires could provide - fangs lightly grazing your cock's sensitive areas, the slight thrill unmatched. merman head was sloppy, werewolf head was rough, but vampire head was a little dangerous. you liked that.

soon enough, you were about to cum. you warned him, patting his shoulder twice, he vigorously nodded, giving you permission to cum inside his mouth. he'd only ever been used to having blood in his mouth, so having your cum inside instead was a new experience. but he liked it. maybe a little too much, as he swallowed it so enthusiastically. you gazed upon him affectionately, finding his virgin excitement over such lewd matters endearing.

"how was i?" the breathless question hung in the air, a reminder of the atmosphere thick with your intertwined tension.

cupping his face with one hand, the other stroking his hair soothingly, you muttered the words he most wanted to hear. "you were better than him."

kliff jumps into your arms, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "thank you. you're the absolute best." he's so content to spend the rest of his days with you. treat him with care, yeah?

>ᵥᵥ< 💘

tags: @4eaever @szapizzapanda @flyingsquids @vampmasc

omg i'm so happy with this one, one of my fav writings i've ever done so far. i felt like i characterised kliff and captured their dynamic quite well here hehehe

#dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #vampire x reader #vampire x male reader #monster x reader #monster x male reader #vampire x human #vampire imagine #wrioluvr: kliff

[killerlookz]

Joost Klein x Goth!Gf Headcannons

content: SFW and NSFW headcannons below the cut, 18+ MDNI, this work contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

SFW Headcannons

You're pretty much his personal makeup artist now, anytime he wants to do his fun little facepaint looks (like the mime or kiss makeup) you're the first one he's asking to help him out

He absolutely doesn't mind you kissing him with your lipstick on and is in no rush to wash off the dark-colored lipstick prints you leave on his cheeks after you do so, sometimes letting them sit there for hours while he goes about his day.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love going to the goth clubs. It's definitely a different speed than he's usually used to, and some of the music may be a little slow for his taste but that man just absolutely loves dancing and the nightlife in general.

He definitely dresses up to "fit in" to go to the goth clubs too! Putting on whatever black items he can find in his closet, usually a pair of rugged black jeans adorned with a thick belt either studded or with a big buckle and some black shirt he spent far too much money on. He usually ends up looking more like he's about to join Opium or Drain Gang than he does goth, but your heart entirely melts at the fact that he's trying.

You absolutely inspire him to buy a pair of New Rocks (side note im actually surprised ive never seen him in new rocks they're very his style lol) and he just absolutely towers over you in them, which he finds very amusing (cue him teasing you about being "short" even though the platforms of those shoes are like 10 cm, making him like 198 cm/ 6'5)

If you are wearing big shoes and they start to hurt he will absolutely carry you back to wherever you need to go- The same goes for if you're breaking in new shoes- you're out and about together and all of a sudden you start treading behind him, walking awkwardly due to the blisters forming on your heels and the backs of your ankles- and he knows, you don't even have to say anything, he just stops dead in his tracks, and bends down for you to get on his back.

Thrifting/ DIYing dates!!! It becomes a tradition for the two of you to go out to thrift/consignment stores and pick out pieces for the two of you to style or DIY into something. He loves it especially when you DIY things for him, and always shows off the clothes/accessories you put together for him, "Oh you like my necklace? Yeah, my girlfriend made it for me."

He laces up your corsets for you! No longer do you need to struggle trying to reach behind your back to tie your corsets. He's always so delicate about it too, "You're sure I'm not squeezing you too tight?" Running his hands all along your sides and your hips after he finishes tying it shut.

He definitely just thinks you are so cool, despite having his own unique style himself, he is just in so much awe of you being yourself, and just genuinely finds you to be the coolest person on Earth, whether its the way you do your makeup, or dress, or the music you listen to, he's just obsessed.

He'll absolutely tease you a little bit though, cue him singing "Because toniiiight will be the noiiight that I will fall for yewwww over agaiiiin" at you because he knows it pisses you off *just a little* you'll chastise him for that being emo not goth, but he still finds it funny regardless, and he loves seeing that little smile you give him when you're trying to pretend to be mad at him, but really you're holding back a laugh

He loves when you wear his necklaces or his fancy belts to accessorize with

Getting tattoos together is a muuuust, he's not so into the idea of matching tattoos, but just spontaneously on a whim being like, "hey do you wanna get another tattoo today?"

NSFW Headcannons

You CANNOT count how many new fishnet tights you've had to buy from Joost being far too impatient to get you undressed, bending you over, lifting up your skirt and just ripping the flimsy fabric open, not even bothering to take them off of you.

However, when the sex is more romantic he absolutely loves taking his time with you, so delicately removing each of your layers (and us goth girlies know... we wear a looot of layers lmaoo) he just loves being all sensual about it, he also just for sure enjoys teasing you with how excruciatingly slow he is about it.

Loves seeing how much he can ruin your makeup, whether its smudged lipstick or eyeliner dripping down your face, the messier the better.

In addition to fucking up your makeup he loves when you go down on him while you're wearing lipstick, the way your lipstick smears as you take him in your mouth, god he finds it so hot.

Obsessed with when you wear leather or latex!! Oof the way the tight, shiny material hugs your body, he cannot get enough, and honestly is ready to take it off of you the second you slip it on.

He absolutely adores you in lace too (especially black lacey lingerie) when you wear lacey tops with nothing but a bra underneath... (same can be said for a fishnet top) oooooh girl he is absolutely feral, the way you're technically "covered" but still exposed in all the right spots... whew

If you have long/pointy nails he looves feeling you dig them into him as he fucks you,

Whenever the two of you go out to the goth clubs things definitely get very steamy, always ending up with his arms wrapped around your waist and your ass pressed against his crotch as your bodies move together to the dark, slow, synthy music.

He loves it when you bite him! Always calling you his little vampire as you suck on his neck, leaving pretty little lovebites and lipstick smudges on his skin. (vampire/blood kink goes brrrr wait what who said that hAHAHHAHHA)

Fucking to goth music is a MUST... not sorry about it, bands like Depeche Mode and She Wants Revenge are top tier sex music, him mumbling along to Tear You Apart, his lips pressing into your neck, sending vibrations down your spine as he slowly undresses you.

Also fucking while watching horror movies hehehehe, there's just something about the suspense and tension that gets your blood going, one second you're watching the TV anxiously, and the next second he's on top of you as you're begging for him to please fuck you.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #joost klein x f!reader #joost klein rpf #rpf

[motelofmermaids]

sex worker reader ♡︎ kurt matheson headcanons (+18)

— this has been marinating in my drafts & i needed to share it with y’all omg. i ♥︎ this so much. i ♥︎ kurt so much. i hope y’all love this too!

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who first saw you standing on the side of the street with three other women—harsh, cold winds making your too-short of a dress flow. you looked so alone, so helpless… nothing like the other women. if anything, you looked like an angel that had fell from the dark and melancholic sky.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who walked up to you because johnny told him he should. ‘you haven’t had a good fuck in how long?’ johnny asked him, looming behind kurt as his boots dragged against the eroded and dirty streets.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who noticed the way your eyes stayed downcast once he made it to your small group, assuming that you were probably never first-pick. he noticed the way your eyes lit up when he asked about you, that your eyebrows raised & lips parted in surprise.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who felt like he understood you. that you should be seen—and not just because of your beauty, no—because you had such a gentle & kind soul. you didn’t seem to judge him, didn’t ask too many questions when he took you home… saw him as a human, not a victim or crazy.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who let you get comfortable first, offering you something to drink or snack on. he noticed the way you turned your head away to smile, all soft and warm. he noticed the way you looked around, eyes big—curious.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who wanted to impress you. you were so pretty, so full of life in this godforsaken world—filled with war, coming to an end, and no one was here to stop it. he thought that maybe, just maybe, you were some kind of sign from god that there was still softness. that he could experience something soft and sweet before he was sentenced to eternal imprisonment.

“do you want to see something?” you turn your head, watching him walk across his small living space. opening a door, kurt nods his head towards the thing you can’t quite see, a silent demand to come closer—to look. you tiptoed across the room gently, like a fawn curious of the world. “a bunker?” you ask softly, biting down softly on your plump bottom lip. “don’t be scared,” he starts quietly, his hand hesitating before pressing against your back, featherlight. “i’m sorry… i don’t want to scare you.” and you shake your head quickly, giggling quietly as you take the initiative to climb down the bunker. “it’s cute! spacious. you got a lot of things to keep you busy.” you sit down on the small bed, smiling up at him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who is hesitant, doesn’t know what to do with himself. with someone so beautiful. his rough, tainted fingers gently trace along your features. he looks down at you as you flutter your eyelashes, leaning in to the feeling.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who thumbs at your bottom lip—loving the sight. the feeling. the thrill that climbs up his back and reaches around to fist his heart. he missed human touch, craved it, wanted to selfishly keep anything familiar close—let johnny haunt him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who gets on his knees, spreading your legs slowly—allowing him to savor every touch, breath, heartbeat. as if the world wasn’t ending, as if there wasn’t a clock ticking. he let his hands trail all over the fabric, your bare skin. he didn’t want to undress you yet, kurt just needed to feel.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who nearly loses his mind when your breaths start getting short and heavy, when you begin to part your legs further. he finally undresses you, lets your desperately shaky hands claw at his clothes to remove his.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who kisses like he cannot breathe without you. he’s so eager, hands holding your head to keep you close. he kisses you until you can’t think—your thighs pressed tightly against each other because you were so wet. you felt light headed when he finally pulled away, your lips glossed over with shared saliva.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t stop at your lips, kissing down your body. he kisses your pretty clit, your folds, your inner thighs. he kisses you until he isn’t, and instead devouring you.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who makes you orgasm multiple times with just his mouth and fingers—and you know he isn’t done, not with the way he looks at you. he leaves you on the verge of tears, your heat glistening with his spit. you twitch and squirm when his beard scruff tickles at your skin. it makes kurt smile. at least he’s taking you in a bunker, your noises becoming humiliatingly loud… fast.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who is big. he’s on top of you, your legs tangled against each other’s bodies. he’s staring down at you, so intensely, as he bottoms out inside your slick & inviting cunt. his lips ghost over your cheek, your forehead, your nose. he’s fucking you with an intense fervor, your eyes glossed over as you look up at him. you grip at any part of him you can, one thigh hiked up to wrap around him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t make much noise. doesn’t talk, but when he moans it’s so mind bending. forces your own, sweet noises out of your mouth. heavy breathing fills the bunker, gasps stolen from one another. it’s almost too much for you. almost.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t pull out. he fucks you until he’s left himself weak, weight pressing down on you. it doesn’t matter to you, though. you craved it. you craved the fantasy of being a mom in a beautiful, blue-skied world—the regret itching at you during the final days.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who cleans you off, your pliant body resting comfortably against the bed—making no effort to toss you money & rush you out of his space.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who holds you, his fingers gently tracing circles into your shoulder as he keeps you close. he likes the way you smell, love how it’ll stay in the bunker for at least a week. he lets you talk, tell him stories as he tiredly nods, enraptured by every word that leaves your pretty lips.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who decides that he wants you to stay. wants you to live with him in his bunker—afraid of losing this, of losing you & letting you die the same way he let johnny die. he’s afraid, but he knows how you made him feel… and he finally wants to be selfish. for both your sakes. so he cuts you off mid-story, the question lingering in the post-glow air.

+ you say yes…

#kel’s concepts ♡︎ #kurt matheson #kurt matheson x you #kurt matheson x reader #kurt matheson smut #kurt matheson headcanons #did not proofread #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #james kelly smut #james kelly x you #james kelly x reader

[miley1442111]

the joys of a workplace relationship- s.reid

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summary: a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem! marine! reader

warnings: nothing lol

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You and Spencer hadn’t been dating that long. It had been what? 2 years? About 2 years. You weren’t sure. You knew you hadn’t had your third anniversary yet, that’s for sure. Your relationship was good, you two loved each other, he complained about not seeing you because of deployments, you complained about not seeing him because of cases., but it always usually worked out. Somehow, you’d see each other. And now? You’d see each other everyday, without fail. 

You were joining the BAU. 

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

“We have a new agent coming in,” Aaron announced, and faces were a mix of puzzled, excited, or confused. 

“Are they a woman? We really need some more women on this team,” Penelope sighed. Elle and Jj nodded their heads agreeing as Derek laughed. 

“She is a woman and she’s from the Navy, but special ops-”

“So she’s dangerous,” Elle smirked. “I like her already.”

“Well, it seems I’ve found her,” Jason nodded his head to the window, where all of them crowded to see the new girl. Spencer didn’t bother, too busy thinking about the case, and the fact that he wouldn’t be home tonight even though you’d just come back from a deployment yesterday evening. 

“She’s pretty!” Penelope squealed. “Spencer come look, maybe we can set you up!”

“For the last time Pen, I have a girlfriend-”

“Yeah, one that you never let us meet or see because she’s ‘in the navy’ or ‘busy’,” Elle scoffed, a small chuckle leaving most of their mouths as Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“But she is busy! And in the navy,” he tried, but it was just digging him a deeper hole while the team laughed at him. He stood up and looked at the window and his heart stopped. There you were, go-bag (which Spencer recognised as one of your old navy bags) in hand and a black shirt that showed a lot of the tattoos on your left arm. Spencer felt his mouth water as he watched you walk around with one of the other agents from the floor as he gave you a tour. 

You were here. Standing in his office. 

Were you joining the BAU?

“She is pretty,” he smiled and Penelope hit him on the chest. 

“You have a girlfriend!” She gasped as she started backing Spencer practically into a wall as the team watched on and laughed “You cannot go around calling other women beautiful-” “No Penelope-” “That is just disgusting and gross-” “Penelope-” “Ugh you are such a man! It’s disgusting -”

“Hi,” you smiled, standing at the door. Penelope stopped and turned to you, a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Penelope! Nice to meet you,” she held out her hand to be shook and you took it. 

“I’m Y/n,” you explained. “Captain Y/n Y/l/n.”

Heads turned to Spencer, his girlfriend’s name was supposedly Y/n. His girlfriend was supposedly a captain, and became one in only 7 years. The youngest there had ever been. 

“Welcome to the team,” Elle smiled. “Elle Greenaway.”

“Derek Morgan,” Derek smiled, taking your hand to shake. 

“Obviously you’ve met me over the phone,” Aaron muttered.

“Jason Gideon,” Jason smiled, giving you a salute. 

“Jennifer Jareou, but everyone calls me Jj,” she smiled. 

“And that over there, is-”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, I’m well acquainted,” you smiled. 

Spencer was still standing in the corner of the room, a proud smile on his face as the team slowly connected the dots. 

“Wait so she’s real?” Derek practically squealed.

You chuckled as a thousand questions poured in about your relationship, but you just sat and listened to them as Spencer went bright red. 

“Please stop asking such invasive questions guys-” Spencer tried but he was drowned out in a sea of voices. 

“Settle down,” Aaron called. “We have a case. Obviously this isn’t your first profiling case, right Y/n?”

“No, it’s not my first,” you nodded. 

As the briefing went on, you felt Spencer’s hand creep onto your lap. You didn’t mind, you liked having him close, but he was getting a little… work inappropriate. You brushed his hand off and continued the briefing. 

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

“What was your callsign?” Jason asked out of the blue as you all walked onto the plane. 

“Sailfish, sir,” you said, your naval manners bled into your life everyday, including calling people of authority ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’.

“That’s so cool, why?”

“I was the fastest flyer,” you shrugged, sitting beside Spencer. His arm immediately wrapped around you, and he pulled you into him, kissing the crown of your head as he read his book. 

You and Spencer had been together long enough that you both knew each other's love language. Spencer’s was physical touch whereas yours was quality time and words of affirmation. You didn’t like PDA at the beginning of your relationship, but you'd grown to not mind it when Spencer wanted to be close in public. 

“How was the trip back?” He whispered. You felt all eyes on the both of you and he mustn’t have noticed, or else he would’ve let go. 

“It was fine, Scratch and Patches were fucking fighting the entire way back,” you sighed. Two of your friends, callsigns Scratch and Patches, had just started dating and recent weeks and god were they annoying. 

“They finally go together then?” He asked, engrossed in his book. 

“Not for fucking long,” you mummbled. “How long is the flight?”

“We have about 5 hours, do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah, I might just nap for a while.”

“Alright, I love you, sleep well,”

“Love you too,” you yawned and quickly fell asleep. Soon, all of the team were crowding around you two, questions ready to ask, and Aaron ready to have an awkward conversation. 

“She’s really cool, how in god’s name did you pull her?” Derek asked as Spencer chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you slept. In your sleep, you had a habit of pulling away from Spencer, so Spencer usually kept an arm around you at all times. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “We just… got together I guess.”

“Spencer, I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news but… the PDA stuff should probably be taken down,” Jj said, Aaron behind her with a look of pleading. 

“And there’s paperwork for you both to sign,” he added.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked, confused. Why would he need to tone it down? 

“There’s rules and regulations against agents being together, Strauss would kill you both of you broke them,” Jj explained. 

“It’s not like I’m always touching her,” he rolled his eyes as the team stared on. 

“Well-” Derek started, but Elle hit him in the shoulder. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

“You don’t exact;y keep your hands to yourself, is all I’m saying,” he said, then walked off with Elle, Jj, and Gideon behind him.

“Just… tone it down, please?” Aaron added, and Spencer nodded, much more to think about than before. Aaron walked off and back to his seat. 

“Well that was deeply embarrassing,” you whispered from your spot against his chest. 

“Yes, yes it was,” Spencer sighed. “I guess I’ll just… tone it down then.”

“At work,” you added. “But at home you can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he admitted. 

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then you pulled your body off of his and sat in your own seat to nap, thus the joys of workplace relationships began.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #bau team #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hi! I have gi request: can you do headcanons about reader being best friends with some characters? Namely, Wanderer, Nahida, Furina and Albedo. If you don't feel like doing all of them, at least someone is fine! Thank you <3

Being best friends with Wanderer, Nahida, Furina and Albedo

Wanderer

Being the best friend of the wandering reformed puppet includes listening to him bitch and moan about how having friends makes your life better and how it cannot go wrong ever. Note the sarcasm. He does really like having you as a friend since you’ve never done anything to think you’d betray or abandon him and shows it through his actions

Being the best friend of the wandering reformed puppet includes having to explain to others that it took a while for Wanderer to stop trying to ditch you the first few months/a year and assuring others that he’s not an awful person he just has a resting bitch face.

Being the best friend of the wandering reformed puppet includes drinking bitter tea and helping make delicious dishes but being scolded if you don’t help with cleaning the dishes. You also enjoy how annoyed he is at the many people who follow him for being fond of him and incidentally playing hide-and-seek when you can’t find Wanderer.

Nahida

Being the best friend of the Dendro Archon includes hearing the best advice whether it’s being given to you or someone else that you’re around and having a relaxing afternoon in the forest or strolling around the streets of Sumeru city.

Being the best friend of the Dendro Archon includes hanging out with all of the Aranaras who are very happy to have a new friend and play games with. Both you and Nahida love dancing at night with fireflies flying around while the Aranara play songs and joyfully skip around one another.

Being the best friend of the Dendro Archon includes listening to Wanderer bitch about working with Nahida even though he’s glad too and making candied nuts. Making flower crowns out of wildflowers growing around the goddess and using vines to weave intricate designs with the flowers highlighting the crown.

Furina

Being the best friend of Lady Furina includes being overly dramatic with her almost constantly and acting out miniature favorite scenes from plays. She invites you to all the plays she is in and excitedly tells you all the funny behind-the-scenes tales she can without getting in trouble.

Being the best friend of Lady Furina includes trying and eating so many cakes and sweet foods that you both get full instantly. Seriously though both of you will get stomaches but are also welcomed back to the restaurant by the owners.

Being the best friend of Lady Furina includes cuddling with her hydro creations and having many tea parties with them. You both have so much fun popping the bubbles made by them and training gracefully like you’re dancing.

Albedo

Being the best friend of the chief alchemist includes so much hijinx that it’s almost like rolling a wheel every day to see what shit will ensue and you will also have to drag the homunculus out of his office for breaks. There are many times when you won’t see Albedo for days or weeks and then out of nowhere, he’ll show up on your doorstep asking if you want to get breakfast or lunch.

Being the best friend of the chief alchemist includes spending so much time with Klee regardless of whether Albedo is with you and trying your best not to let her get herself into trouble. Of course, it sometimes doesn’t work but Albedo is so fond and grateful that you have such a good relationship with his sister.

Being the best friend of the chief alchemist includes being very concerned that he eats spiders and desperately trying to get him to stop. You’ve tried so many things and all of them failed at one point Albedo tried to get you to eat a spider which ended with you slapping him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #furina #furina x reader #furina genshin #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #nahida #nahida x reader #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x you #albedo x reader

[dira333]

kenma!!! for your plot bunny game hehe

You're being a lil meanie for requesting him *pouty face* I don't know what this is. He deserves so much better than I'm being able to write.

🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.🐈.

It's impossible.

You cannot sit next to Kenma without wanting to touch him.

But also cannot touch him, because that would be weird, wouldn't it?

The back of the cab feels tiny and enormous at the same time.

Kenma's thigh is pressed against yours and his elbow digs into your arm everytime he moves, which is often, because he keeps playing a game on his phone to pass the time.

If Kuroo on your right is saying something, you don't hear it. You're too busy thinking about the fact that Kenma is touching you and you are touching Kenma and that his hair is really pretty in the flickering light of the streetlamps and how it would feel like if you touched it and-

Someone shoves his hand unceremoniously between the two of you and opens your seatbelt. You flinch and look up, face Kuroo's knowing, teasing grin. Oh no.

-

The only free seat left is next to Kenma. Of course.

You're not sure how you're going to survive a whole movie pressed against him, because you will be, because Bokuto always takes up more space than necessary, usually ending up with his head in your lap and his feet crossed over Akaashi's.

Maybe that will give you something to do, to distract yourself and you're right. It's a little bit easier to deal with Kenma being so close yet so far away when you're playing absentmindedly with Bokuto's hair. And it gives you the added bonus of him falling asleep, offering you half a movie without his incessant commentary.

Not that that matters, because close to the end Kenma's head sinks to the side, pressing heavily against your shoulder blade. You stop breathing for a whole minute, all your blood flooding to the scene of the crime. Maybe, if you'll never move again, you could stay like this?

-

You like the timbre of his voice, the honesty of his comments, the fact that his eyes never seem to miss a thing.

He's generous and helpful, never once complaining when everyone uses his house to crash or celebrate in.

If you dared to think about it, maybe you'd dare to tell him how you feel.

"What are you even scared of?" Kuroo asks over lunch one day, slipping out of his role as your supervisor like it's just another one of his suits.

"Being myself," you answer because the past has taught you to be wary.

-

"Are you okay?"

Kenma's face is pale, his eyes are moving left and right at a speed that's dizzying, even to you.

The mall is packed and the air is thick with perfume from a nearby vendor. For a moment you're not sure if he's going to faint or run off and before you can stop yourself, your hand takes his.

His skin is cold and slick with sweat, but his fingertips dig into your hand, squeezing so tight it should probably hurt.

You pull him in, acting on instinct and addiction more than anything else, needing him to be closer, closer, closer. And safe.

His face settles in the crook of your neck, your free hand rubbing over his back.

"Wanna get out?" You ask. He nods, his chin knocking into your chest.

His hand doesn't leave yours. When you urge him into the passenger seat he pulls you in with him until you're both crammed into the small space, you on his lap, his face pressed into your side.

You sit like that for a while, not speaking.

In all honesty, you're impressed you're acting this normal about it, when all you've been dreaming about lately is to slip into his skin, to be closer to him than humanly possible.

Eventually though, Kenma's breath evens out.

You drag a hand through his hair, guilt sitting heavy in your stomach. Should you really touch him like this when he just went through something like that?

"Hungry?" You ask. "I have a fruit snack in my purse."

He nods slowly, though he doesn't move otherwise.

"Sorry I just touched you like that," you mutter.

"I like it," he says, voice a little muffled.

The realization hits you a little sooner than him and you gasp, only to feel him dig his hands into your sides.

"Kuroo said you've got a crush on me too," he rushes to add, not yet showing his face, "if that's a lie, just say so and we'll forget this ever happened, okay?"

"It's not a lie."

-

Kenma's sitting in your lap. He's heavy and warm and his head is snuggled right against your collarbone in a way that must be torture for his back but neither of you is complaining.

"You're so gross!" Kuroo points out from the other side of the Couch. "Some people are single around here."

"Hey," Bokuto exclaims loudly, "I said not to make fun of it."

You ignore both of them, your left hand creeping up Kenma's back under his hoodie. He snorts lightly, shivering against the touch. He's ticklish.

Maybe, if you were alone together, you'd put your whole head under the hoodie, slip into it and share it with him.

But that can wait until later.

#plotbunny game #dira.asks #kenma x reader #kenma #kenma fluff #kenma kozume #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you

[yuriisclumsy]

hii! How are you darling :)

Can i request a crack/ funny and fluffy cale x pregnant reader ? Like she is a few months pregnant, so cale and the kids always lay with her and dont let her do much.

Ofc the others are overprotective of her, bc like shes clumsy😭 like always falling down the stairs, nose bleeds (me core) and she watched everyone panic while looking at them with a deadpanned look bc

1. Shes a baddie whos to hot to die

2.the baby is fine and alive

And cale is loosing his mind bc he cannot leave her alone for two mins bc she will somehow make even more trouble simply bc shes ✨just a girl ✨

Stay still, will you?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:1,267

»»►This is a funny scenario. I like to think Cale is a super, over the top, overprotective, man. If you mess with those he cares about or loves, you’re about to find yourself in an interesting situation. 

»»►But when Cale finds out he’s going to be a papa, he goes wild. Forget accepting whatever mission the crown prince wants him to do, he needs to be right next to his wife–24/7. 

»»►And let’s be honest with ourselves, this man would literally take this chance to laze around even more. This is the life he wanted, no? 

»»►Oh, but his dear wife doesn’t like sitting still for more than a minute. This is torture for her—but can’t do anything about it because her husband and (adopted)kids want her to relax and take care of herself and the baby. 

»»►But, why? You may ask. That’s for the single fact that she is clumsy (hey just like me!). She crashes stuff, trips, falls, hurts herself—according to Cale and the others—she denies such accusations—and last but not least, she gets herself in trouble. 

»»►So, yeah. [Name] have no “stepping outside the state” privileges until after the baby is here physically. But [Name] is a tough cookie. She can handle herself when no-one is around. So—to everyone’s dismay—she goes outside one day. It’s just to stroll around and see what has progressed in Harris Village. 

»»►One thing to note: she didn’t tell a soul about her outing. 

»»►Now imagine Cale’s face when he comes back to see the staff panicking for the whereabouts of his wife. 

»»►Let's just say…it was chaotic that day. 

“Woah, that looks tasty...!” [Name] drooled at the sight. 

“Good morning, lady [Name]! What can I get you today?” The shop owner greeted [Name] with a smile. 

“Can I have this please?” [Name] pointed to one of the delicacies of the bakery. It was a croissant-looking-bread stuffed full of chocolate. 

The owner of the bakery gave her a bag filled with what she ordered. “Here you go! Please come back soon!” the owner waved goodbye. 

“I will!” She waved back at the owner. [Name] took one of the baked goods and began to eat it.  

“I wonder how everyone is doing at the state.” 

… 

“LADY [NAME]!” 

“M’lady! Where are you?!” 

“Does anyone remember the last place [Name] went to?!” 

“M’lady, please be okay!” 

Currently, everyone is in a frenzy. The lady of the house was nowhere to be found, and everyone and their mothers were running like headless chickens in search of her. And if they did not find her, their master was going to kill them! 

“What is with the commotion here?” a voice spoke from the entrance of the manor. 

Everything stopped. Slowly, the housekeepers and butlers turned their heads towards the voice. They knew this voice. Very well in fact. Although they grew to like it, right now, they wish they didn’t hear it. They prayed that it was a ghost. Dread overtook them as they saw the voice’s owner. 

Cale Henituse. Their young master. And the husband of the manor’s lady they were trying to find. 

“So? Is anyone going to tell me why you are all running like the world just ended?” Cale spoke. 

Who was mad enough to even dare to tell the young master that his wife magically disappeared? Not me. And not anyone in this room.  

Yet a brave soul stood up and spoke. May he rest in peace. 

“Ah…y-young mater Cale,” a young butler went forward and vowed, stammering in his word, “we..uh…. Can’t find lady [Name] anywhere...?” 

“...” 

“...” 

It was deafeningly silent. No one moved an inch, waiting—waiting for the order to execute them. They fully accepted their fate. 

“Well, what are you all just standing there for?” he spoke, breaking the iceberg. 

“Huh?” 

“Standing still isn't going to bring back [Name].” He stood there, staring at the crowd. 

He was right. 

They needed to get back to searching for Lady [Name]!  

A chorus of ‘yes, sir!’ was heard before a horde of housekeepers and butlers left in search of their Lady. 

“*sigh* Why are you like this [Name]...?” Cale whispered and looked up. He slowly walked to the exit of the manor heading to the town; the children followed after him–this included Choi Han. 

“Master Cale, where are you going?” Hans asked. 

“I’m going to the market area in the town,” he said, not bothering to look back. “Ron, make my bed as comfortable as you can make, will you?” 

“Yes, young master.” Ron responded. 

“Great.” 

… 

Lovely day for [Name] sitting in the shade of an umbrella and her delicious foods. Going from one shop to another, she had managed to gather a lot of food. She had gone overboard again, yes, but the baby she was carrying and her were happy. Who could ever disturb such happiness? 

“[Name].” A male voice called her name firmly from behind. 

Of course. The only person that could was her husband. [Name] knew he only meant good, but right now he had broken that tranquility. 

“Oh! Cale, love, darling, how are you...?” [Name] turned and looked at him nervously. The children had gathered around her–with Raon being invisible naturally. 

“[Name]...” Cale rubbed the temples of his face before sighing, “why are you out?” he asked sternly. 

“Well clearly, I was taking a walk. And I bought some snacks on the way.” She answered, petting both Hong and Raon while On made herself comfortable in her lap. 

“What–no. That’s not what I meant.” 

“You asked why I was out, and I told you why.” 

“You know exactly why I asked that.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” [Name] gave the children the treats she had bought earlier. 

“[Name], please. You know how dangerous it is for you to be here right now. You are due at any point now! And I just…agh..I just want you to stay safe.” He said in frustration. 

[Name] looked at him, feeling a bit guilty that he is like that. She had reached her ninth month a week ago, making this month the most crucial. She just didn’t want to stay locked up in her room all the time. It was something that did not sit right with her. 

“I’m sorry…” [Name] looked down in shame. 

“I…*sigh* You are going to be the death of me.” Cale came closer to her and placed his hands underneath her. 

“Hu-huh? Cale? What are you doing?” panicking a little before realizing he was going to carry her. 

“Carry you, obviously.” He scuffed. “We’re going back to the manor.” 

“Aww…can’t we go to another shop? It’ll be the last one, I promise!” Her begging went to deaf ears. He wasn’t letting her get away with it, so she started to wiggle her way out his arm. 

“Stay still, will you?” 

“Not until I get my last treat.” 

“*sight…* Fine. But you’ll have it after dinner. Dinner is going to be served soon.” Cale said while walking to the nearest candy shop. 

“Mmmm, I'm fine with that. Oh! Choi Han, hello. Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.” 

“It’s fine lady [Name].” Choi Han gave her a small nod. 

“Moooom…I want a treat too!” 

“I also want one!” 

“The great Roan Miru will get one too, right?” 

“Wait a second. Since when do they call you mom?” Cale asked in confusion. 

“Yes, yes. All of you will get one.” 

“Don’t ignore me.” 

Choi Han giggled as Cale continued to ask and get ignored by them. 

Fin 

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism, @matchalyne, @minteaspoon, @dontknowhowtousethis, @valacz29, @rainalovesouya, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @ru8yx. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family updates. Back to Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the count's family x reader #reader input #x reader #manhwa x reader #totcf #manhwa #manhwa fanfic #choi han #ron #deruth henituse #hans #raon miru #on and hong

[ariicandy]

Take Us to The Stars Tonight

Summary — He loves recalling the memory of when he confessed his love to you, a special place, a special moment, a special memory he will never forget.

Notes — been a while since I have wrote! It’s been 2 and a half months.. Hopes it’s decent enough to be enjoyable, haven’t wrote for aventurine properly before! Wanted to add boothill originally but I needed to get this fic out so will do another version w/ boothill!!

Warning(s) — might be ooc aventurine as stated above, haven’t really done penacony story so he probably doesn’t go to these areas

Word count — 1,140 words

It was a strange thing that Aventurine has been having feelings whenever he encounters you. He feels the need to shower you with exquisite treasures even more if this weird tingly that he is feeling is trying to tell him. It is really strange. He’s been feeling this weird aching feeling within him he cannot describe or even seem to understand what it is for a while now. It started after a while of meeting you, first seeing you while he was roaming in golden hour. Where it only seemed to be a brief conversation, now turned to an everyday routine to see each other and talk about your day with each other. It’s weird how Aventurine was yearning for you more and more now without even realizing himself. He would send more messages to you, trying to engage with you more on whatever there is to talk about or even encouraging you to continue your talk of your day.

So to suddenly realize this tingly feeling that’s always making him feel weird is because he is in love with you. It makes him stop in his tracks on whatever he might be doing to suddenly realize that his feelings towards you are of love, not just the feeling of pampering you much more. But, how can he tell you that he loves you? Do you share the same mutual feelings? Is he overthinking this and this feeling is only just to pamper you more? It’s stressing him out and knowing there is only one way to find out..

To say Aventurine was nervous was an understatement. He was overthinking everything you guys had, fidgeting with his left hand a lot more while waiting for you to come and meet with him at Aideen Park. Maybe he should have picked a better location where it’s mainly just the two of you alone without being heard. It’s not like he can just change location last minute when you are on your way from the message you sent him a few minutes ago. Now he is fiddling with the tiny shopping bag he bought a bracelet with your name on it for you. Maybe he should have gotten something more that could make up this nervous situation, Aventurine only shakes him head and sighs ready to gamble with fate of his feelings for you.

“Ah I found you Aventurine!” The sound of your voice made aventurine turn to you with his usual smirk. “Ah, look who finally made it. I got this gift for you while I was on my way over here to the park.” Which wasn’t a completely lie, to say. Aventurine did look a various luxury jewelry stores that he will think deserve to feel your touch and be the symbol of him being yours, if you do accept it of course. A small gasp was lead out by you seeing him hold the small bag knowing it was worth a lot, he always bought you luxury goods when you try your best to tell him he doesn’t need to shower you with such expensive things. He always say its okay with whatever he buys you that you know is draining his wallet without him giving it a single thought, it worries you why he likes to pamper you with such lavish gift. “But, before I give you this gift, I must tell you something first.” Aventurine words made you curious and all ears to hear, and he could see that as he continued turning his head to the left of him to gaze the sky.

“To be quite honest with you, [Name], i actually never thought this day would come to talk you fully about me. I’ve been thinking that something weird happened to me while I wasn’t aware of in my chest.” Puzzled by Aventurine’s words you asked, “What do you mean?” You showing aventurine he has your full attention solely on him he continued, “I’m not sure when it started or what specifically made me have this weird feeling in my chest. But I do know an idea of who might have caused it. Would you like to take a guess?” Aventurine now fully turns to you seeing your shock expression on wanting you to guess, did he really need to do his little tricks at this moment? While you were hesitating to answer, aventurine was also scared of hearing what you might say. He just wants to see what you might assume the reason of his weird feeling from knowing his fellow co-workers at the IPC, the deals or gambles he makes with people. “Hmm, I’m not entirely sure I can guess why. It confuses me, who did you think might be the cause?” Hearing your response, aventurine forms a tiny smile. “You, [Name].” His response shocks you, how could you be the cause that aventurine has been having a weird feeling? It is a bad thing or good thing? It’s unknownly stressing you to find out. “Huh?! Me? What do you mean??” “You, [Name], have gave me his weird feeling in chest that has been guessing for what felt like ages. Not knowing why I always had this weird happy sense with you that I could not figure out what it actually was. That was until about 2 months ago during my break when I was messaging you, the reason why.” Aventurine then started to reach for the small shopping bag that he was carrying, bringing out a small box that looked delicate. He carefully lifted the lid up and revealed a lavish bracelet that had your name written in cursive. Shocked and surprised by the gift aventurine was going to give you this beautiful bracelet out of nowhere. Whatever money aventurine spent to buy and make this bracelet for you, oh you will repay him for this how could not? “The reason is, that i actually love you, [Name]. I never realized why i always wanted to get you more things for you to have no matter what you say or try to repay me. It can never replace you actually seeing me as someone, a person, and not just doing business with me. I own you my heart, for being the person i truly do love and enjoy being with.” He grabbed your hand and started to place the bracelet on your wrist, clipping it to secure it stays on your wrist. “Knowing you, you will try to repay me or makeup for this to be even. But I only have one thing to make it even to you.” You were still mesmerized by the bracelet and hearing him know what you would have said, you looked at him, “and what would that be?” A small genuine smile appeared on aventurine’s face. “All I ask of you is, will be my love?”

#★☆﹒writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x y/n #star rail x y/n #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #star rail x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr x reader #aventurine fluff

[hitlikehammers]

but consider: Steddie, except in the Bridgerton Carriage

for @hbyrde36, @pearynice, and @penny00dreadful—I've been kind of a shitty absent friend lately and I am stupid enough to apparently still think that WRITING SOMETHING FOR PEOPLE is like a gift or something instead of the exact opposite, but you guys seemed to not-hate the snippet of this so...yeah. I'll almost certainly still be an absent friend when this posts, and I do sincerely apologize that, please accept this distraction from that fact and a token of my affection also in advance of S3Pt2 later in the week?

(also: this gets 🔥spicy at the cut bc obviously)

it has a baby epilogue thingy and and a baby sequel thingy (?) if you...wanted that or something I guess also I will assume not unless someone says otherwise okay bye

Eddie throws himself against the seat, may cause the carriage to shift for it, may even startle the horses but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care because he was about to be engaged, he was going to be Lord of a house grander than he can quite fathom and yes all on his own and yes separated from all he knows but that would have included separation from—

Eddie pinches his nose to hold back tears, keep them just to stinging behind his eyes and then growls, throws himself across the cushion because he does that, Eddie learned to pinch his nose against weeping from him and of course the tears are caused now by him, too, by his interference, by his heartlessness, by his cruelty and his scheming to keep Eddie, supposedly his dearest friend, from any form of security or freedom or—

Eddie’s breath hitches: he may be enraged. Perhaps a little heartbroken. But he cannot think such lies about a man he’s held closer than any other in his life, his dearest confidant—his closest, most secret love.

Eddie bites his tongue this time against the tears that are building such pressure and shamefully, foolishly, he traces his lips. That one kiss. That one series of kisses. Just once.

Both wholly inadequate but beyond Eddie’s wildest dreaming.

It’s for tracing the bow of his upper lip, for losing himself in imagination and the single tear he lets slip, it’s for the pounding in his heart for so many more reasons than he has the energy or will to tease out: for all of it.

He misses the shouting until there’s a rapping at the hinges on the door, aimed to rattle. Forceful.

One might even suppose it to be desperate.

Eddie cannot deny curiosity—even in shame and ruin it has always been the root of his nature—and so he takes the fact that the driver stops at all as an omen for the positive, can’t be a threat or a vagabond, and he moves to check but is too slow, the door wrenched open to—

“Eddie.”

Gods be damned.

“I do not wish to speak with you,” Eddie bites out, refuses to make eye contact and focuses on gratitude that he’d already wiped his eyes.

“Please!” and oh.

Oh, but Steve knows Eddie would give him the world. Always has. Cannot deny him when he asks, but:

This isn’t asking. This is pleading.

“Let me in,” and he’s so breathless, chest heaving, eyes too wide and Eddie can feel them fixed upon him even before he turns to meet them and perhaps he’d been wrong before, to have called the shade of those eyes remarkable, especially when kind.

They are indescribable when, when…

Whatever Steve is now.

Eddie swallows hard, fixes his eyes opposite the door as he moves for Steve to clearly have the space across and diagonal from him to occupy. As far as Eddie can place space between them.

“We will stop at Harrington House first,” and damn but Eddie is proud of the strength, the evenness in his tone when he calls out and the horses take up again.

He prays it will hold when he eventually has to break the silence, and address the reality of the situation he’s in.

“What do you want?”

Strength enough, then.

“Did Lord Alexei propose?”

Eddie cannot help but leave his mouth to drop; his eyes to narrow.

“And exactly what business is that of yours?” because truly. The nerve. The pomposity, the presumption—

“I need to know,” and lord help and forgive him, Eddie cannot write off this man who’s been his friend, but who’s also taught his heart to swell for so many years, now; whose taste on his lips still lingers—

Eddie cannot deny him wholly when his eyes gleam, and his hands tremble. When he looks fit to shake from his skin.

“Did he propose?”

Though: even if Eddie can’t deny him, that doesn’t not require him to make any of it simple, or easy. He is not beholden to shy from the bitter sting of the evening, of the lack of a ring on his fourth finger.

“It is odd, isn’t it?” Eddie huffs a mirthless laugh. “When I asked for your help in finding a husband, I did not realize that also meant you claimed the prerogative to deny me one as well.”

Steve looks near-slapped across the face as he reels back the slightest bit and holy hell, but Eddie cannot even take more than half-a-second’s satisfaction in it, in something sharp in the truth of the consequences in Steve’s callous, thoughtless interference—no, Eddie gets his half-second, and then all he wants is to reach and soothe the wound.

Gods be damned for the heart he has, for the heart that this man’s stolen without knowing—he’d never be so cruel if he was sure how wholly Eddie’s affections were lost upon him—and more tragic yet: stolen, and unquestionably unwanted.

But Steve doesn’t require Eddie’s intervention to compose himself and regroup to the task he’s set himself upon, and his shoulders are squaring again in an instant it seems, leaning once more into Eddie’s space so as to flavor the air Eddie breathes in far too fast—so sweet.

“It is my business because I care about you,” and it is sincere, to be certain, and Eddie will not permit himself to look farther than the words themselves for nonexistent hints and pathetic yearning scraps. He must be grateful. His affections may be undesirable but there is a part of his heart that still may be given to this man in a certain, sensible way and Eddie must appreciate this as enough—

“You cannot marry that man.”

Eddie is the one who reels back this time; he blames this entirely for the lapse in his response, the sharp incredulity that rises in him at the persistent audacity, the sheer presumption—

“He will leave you for his voyaging,” Steve begins in earnest, certain in his tone, but Eddie wastes no time to scoff:

“Says the man who spent months frolicking the continent—”

“And he is far too particular with his, his strawberry varietals,” Steve continues as if Eddie’s said nothing, but there’s a subtle flustering at the edges of each word—he’s not been ignored.

“Cherries, actually,” and Eddie can’t help but prod further, it’s in his nature; “it’s truly remarkable to be so agitated that you can’t even be bothered to be correct—”

“And he is…” Steve cuts Eddie off proper, then, the flustered edge turning half toward desperate, perhaps beseeching:

“He is just not right for you, Eds.”

And Steve has always been a man of action, of resolve once he’s set upon a clarity of conviction. It does sound as if he’s found such a point to lean into and hold.

Just Eddie’s luck that when the issue to hand is his own holy matrimony, it’s merely a point, and involves someone else.

“He did not propose,” Eddie surprises himself for how flat his tone is, because Lord Alexei is witty, reserved in an endearing way, strange perhaps in a different vein to Eddie but: like courts like. He would not have been less than pleasant to grow old attached to.

“In fact,” and here Eddie surprises himself with the tone that escapes him, less anger—though still anger—than it is chiding; “he rejected me because of you.”

Steve’s eyes don’t widen, or drop in some emotion tangential to shame. If they do anything, they grow brighter; intensify.

If anything: Eddie burns with it, and tries like hell to shove it away—because he is angry. He could have lived a quiet life of freedom and cordial camaraderie and as many goddamn cherries as he ever wished to eat. He had a chance, his first and only, and this man saw fit to—

“Because the scene you caused led him to believe you have feelings for me,” Eddie’s indignation, his hurt and his pride and his heartbreak and his anger all coalesce to rear their head again as he narrows his eyes to remind Steve once more:

“An idea so preposterous, I do not know what to do besides laugh,” which Eddie cannot even manage, so the joke may be on him in the end, regardless. It’s the last straw of a sort, though, and he deflates, suddenly bone-weary, and heartsore.

“Now,” he breathes in deep, forces himself to straighten his shoulders and lift up his chin, to have some goddamn dignity: “will you please let us ride home in silence and leave me alone.”

It’s not a question.

“I cannot.”

It is not a question, so of course he doesn’t get a real answer.

“Please,” and Eddie tries to pack a lifetime of friendship into a single word, tries to raise the banner to summon some long-crafted pity if nothing else will suffice.

“I cannot,” Steve leans forward, and his eyes are…other, somehow. A certain glow about them in too little light.

“Because,” and he breathes, and stares, and Eddie’s almost afeared for his well-being when he whispers: “Eddie,” his name like a prayer to a god Eddie’s never known to name, before he may well speak in tongues for how much sense he makes:

“What if I did have feelings for you?”

Eddie…can only blink, and think to feel Steve’s forehead for a fever, and ignore wholesale and entirely the rabbit-beat his heart’s leapt to all at once.

“What?”

Steve stares a bit longer, lets Eddie’s heart really build a momentum, threaten the integrity of his ribcage like it’s a trial to be passed but then Steve sucks in a deep breath and the slightest hint of chest hair peeks out on the inhale and good god—

“I have spent so long trying to feel less,” Steve finally speaks, his voice low and breathy, like maybe his heart’s in a marathon too, but why, when what he says makes no sense:

“Trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be, and for a moment, Eds, for scarcely a moment I thought I had succeeded, for one time in all the failures and disappointments I thought maybe, though it clenched sour in my chest,” Steve rushes out, near trembling, and Eddie…cannot comprehend. He just, he can’t.

“But these past weeks, and more if I’m truthful, have been full of,” he licks those gorgeous lips, struggling, while Eddie struggles for…other reasons: “full of these confounding feelings, like a total inability to stop thinking about you,” he pauses and his glowing gaze drops to Eddie’s mouth, drops a kick to Eddie’s pulse as it trips, as Steve speaks again:

“About that kiss,” and how absurd, that Steve should have any thought of it, this man who’s known more lips than Eddie’s known people, that he might so much as think twice about the most perfect moment in Eddie’s life, that could not have been more than a casual obligation to an old friend from Steve’s view, it was—

“Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep and gods, preferring sleep with all that I am because that is where I might find you,” and it’s so frustrating, because Eddie’s known Steve his entire life. Eddie knows his expressions, his tones, his hidden meanings.

He cannot find the latter. The first two, though, he, they…

There’s no sense, and Eddie’s heartbeat only rises.

“A feeling that is like torture,” and Eddie can agree upon the word, for the ache the pounding of his pulse is demanding, but the tone Steve speaks in is…it borders on reverent.

“A torture,” he repeats, words panted out close, high in his chest; “but one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up. Not ever.”

And he looks…so honest. And Eddie knows what he sounds like in a lie—there is none here. He also knows what Steve looks like when he thinks he is in love.

This is…very close to that, but also: different. A wanting that Eddie’s never borne witness to before. A fire in it still but something violent, magnificent to the scope it could unleash.

“Please,” this time, Eddie does beg. Because the fire he sees in those eyes—nonsense, all nonsense, he reminds himself—but that fire is starting to spread and he’ll burn inside it wholly if he cannot stop it now:

“Do not say things you do not mean.”

“But I do mean it,” Steve is so quick to correct, to look wounded for being doubted and to look truthful to his bones; “this is everything I have wanted to say to you…for weeks. For longer than weeks.”

“But…” Eddie worries his lip, heart caught up now in his throat, a task to speak around at all but he must, he must.

“Steve, we are friends.”

“Yes, but we…” Steve starts, but then it is as if the glow in him dims, fades, withers before Eddie’s very eyes and it takes all that he is not to whimper at the loss of it.

And then Steve passes a visibly-unsteady hand over his face, between his eyes; pinches the bridge of his nose like he does to keep from—

Oh god, and Eddie loves this man. And he’s caused…

“Forgive me, um,” Steve looks down, anywhere but at Eddie and it’s in the loss that Eddie processes how warm it felt to be beneath that gaze; how cold it feels without. “I do not know what I was thinking,” and his tone is drained of color, deadened leaves before the snow and Eddie’s pounding heart cracks wide and for all that Eddie has labored under his feelings so long, alone in the shadows, his bond with Steve was always one of equals, no matter how much of a lie that spelled to the world around them. They stepped together, side by side. And here, Steve leapt without him, and somehow for him; is tumbling to crash.

Eddie cannot bear it. His heart will shatter in an impact more dear than his own could ever be.

He has to try.

“But I’d very much like to be more than friends,” Eddie exhales, desperate, trembling in every part of him. “So much more.”

Eddie can barely hear anything beyond his heartbeat now, the way his heaving breaths strain the lacing on his patently-unusual shirt, his waistcoat tight for the overtaxed burning in his lungs, in his veins, in his skin, like the blood in him’s turned molten and with every pulse he—

He looks to Steve, whose eyes no longer glow but have turned molten, too, and Eddie’s breath catches as Steve stares at him, incredulous, as if he is the unbelievable one and what nonsen—

Eddie can scarcely believe that he can think, that he can feel anything, for the way he knows his heart to burst wholly when Steve surges in and captures Eddie’s lips: not like their first time. Not even like the way that first time crested toward something: no.

No: this is…

Perhaps he lives still, as his blood still races and his lungs still burn and he rises to meet Steve’s lips yet: oh. Oh, but his heart has burst and whether this is to last, whether this is once and never again, Eddie does not need his heart to be anything but blown and spilled inside his ribs, warm and glimmering in a way he’s never known, alive in a way he’s never felt, and the way they move.

Oh, but how they move like a dance known not to men nor angels, known only to something primordial and wholly other, a secret to their souls alone in the dark and Eddie reaches to cup Steve’s face, trace his hairline and ease him closer, deeper, and wonder at the sweetness of his taste; just how Eddie recalls it, would know it on his deathbed but heated, thicker, stronger now as Steve slides his tongue between Eddie’s lips where Eddie opens, arches into him, body to body until his eyes flutter open and Steve almost seems to feel it, for how his own blink open the same and he pauses, pulls back the slightest bit, Eddie’s hand at the side of his throat now where his pulse thunders into Eddie’s palm, the tumult of the elements themselves in Eddie’s ill-suited hands but now he’s touched the heart of this man, this man, held it in this way Eddie dares to think means something more, and—

Their eyes meet. Steve’s still aflame, but the glow lived again below the inferno and it’s like he marvels, it’s like he sees Eddie as something wholly new yet forever dear, as if he cannot fathom the simplest truth Eddie’s ever known:

All of him, is Steve’s.

Steve’s lips are wet, sloppy, mesmerizing as he gapes, looks upon Eddie like a sculpture or a masterwork somehow and Eddie slides his hands into Steve’s hair the way he’s always dreamt: sinuous and sensual and Eddie may be gaping, mesmerized himself as he fights shaking his head in sheer dumbfound shock because: Steve is real. Steve is full of only truth, here.

Eddie knows what Steve looks like when he believes he is in love.

This look now isn’t merely other. This is, dare he even think it—

This is more.

He watches as Steve’s lips quirk, a punchdrunk giddy sort of thing that Eddie feels himself return because perhaps it is Eddie who’s feverish and delusional but he has never felt this, he has never known this: touch and desire and want in his limbs but returned in equal measure somehow, unthinkable.

And yet.

Steve kisses him, and to kiss through the curve of joy on their mouths is a potent thing, slips down Eddie’s throat and catches in his wild-thrumming pulse, puts the whole of him off balance in the most perfect of ways and Eddie has to balance himself upon Steve’s chest, feels the firm muscle beneath layers but then the pounding muscle at the center ripples out, his heart as unsteady, as affected as Eddie’s own and it’s…it is a miraculous sort of gift, to be in such resonance with someone, anyone—but to spell a symphony, beat for beat, with the person you’ve long given your heart to?

It threatens tears to Eddie’s eyes for reasons that fill his chest but know no name; that transcend words.

And for that moment in time: he can believe if it is wanted, if this is real, if this could possibly be real: to lose his heart in Steve’s chest would be no loss at all, merely a homecoming. To songs made to sing in tandem, close enough to touch.

Their mouths don’t break apart when they gasp, when they moan and pant: they just tip the barest angle fit to breathe and then dive back, but when their hips slide together, hardness prominent at either groin they gasp harder, deeper, and come apart to stare at each other, to try to read universes as much as the simplest questions, the most obvious of assent between eyes alone.

Steve makes his way downward by way of Eddie’s neck, lavishing it with the talents of his lips as he makes quick work of the fastenings on Eddie’s breeches, clear that he must know them well enough on another’s body, practiced, and it maybe lights an ember of jealousy to feel proof in the flesh of Steve’s poorly-veiled breadth of experience, but as Eddie is trembling for the spoils, he can’t acknowledge that flicker of envying for long, not for the sake of the proper fire that alights in him now to the tips of his fingers; not least for how Steve cups his palm so perfect, so exquisitely slipped beneath the heavy weight of Eddie’s manhood, lifts it tenderly in a way Eddie’s never bothered to touch himself, leaves his last two fingers to linger gentle attention for the briefest moments, a whisper of touch against Eddie’s straining sac as he eases Eddie’s full length from his drawers and Eddie’s hardly bare to the free air before he’s gasping, panting hard enough that he suspects a weather eye could pick the shape of his torrenting heartbeat through his skin between his ribs for how it pounds, and how his lungs squeeze it unforgiving to the wall of his chest and—

Steve’s hand upon his cock is transcendent, even without any motion, doing nothing but to touch yet Eddie is greedy. Eddie wishes Steve’s hand could also press to his chest, not least because he fears it could crack under the blatant assault; he trusts Steve to hold his wayward heart where it absolutely must stay at least a little longer, to see out this…this.

Wherever it leads.

As if beckoned by sheer desire, Steve lifts, looks Eddie in the eye and balances himself upon his sternum, rips the lacings fully free and slides his hand skin to skin above Eddie’s heartbeat and holds there, holds there while he teases the exposed slit of him to draw a whimper, only to abandon it and trace the sharp-raised vein below, back and forth as if he plays the strings of a stronger song, as if it’s but an idle whimsy, a pleasant pastime on the way to greater indulgences and Eddie’s gifted a moment to feel undiluted bliss at the sensation, the languid romance near saccharine in the connection of Eddie’sheart bounding unbridled against Steve’s strong, steady palm, so broad and so warm and safe, so so safe and Eddie melts for it, for a whole moment at least before Steve’s stroked the same bulging vein one too many times and Eddie feels himself tense—

And then Steve halts, his hands both still save maybe not, for the one at Eddie’s chest, he watches it shake a little out the corner of his eye, for the force of the blood-beat below or something primal and overcoming in Steve’s own veins; Eddie catches Steve’s eyes, blown full to black now, and strains his neck to kiss the tip of Steve’s finger, the closest part to reach and Steve shivers, and then he’s—

Oh.

Oh, but then, but then it may well mean the end of Eddie Munson because Steve moves his hand to kiss Eddie’s chest one time, enough to trip the heart beneath, and those same lips kiss the tip of his full-flushed cock as Steve glances up, wanton through those lashes and it’s not even in askance, it’s…surveying.

And Eddie feels a tingling pleasure spark through him, to know in that instant how Steve knows him, knew his heart before ever he reached to take where it was offered, knew his mind from the very start, and now needs only glance to check without a single word to speak: his hand never leaves Eddie’s chest.

But his mouth takes in the whole of him.

He spares less than a single thought that he hopes Steve knows what he’s doing—beyond the fact that it feels like nothing less, feels like Steve is truly a god among men beyond even Eddie’s lovesick notions—but if Eddie felt ready to loose himself with mere-perfect touch, the sweet silk of Steve’s mouth, the soft suction just so: Eddie won’t last. He can’t: he’s only a man.

He can glimpse heaven as a gift, perhaps; he can fly to the sun only a moment before he falls.

He does not process Steve preparing to move, too lost to notice, but he cries out, muffles it as best he can but he barely can when a wet finger swirls upon the rough pucker of his untouched hole, where he knows pleasure lies but has never…never made the attempt and yet just the hint, the fact of it so delicate and only just slipped between the cleft of him where Steve eases him up enough to slip a hand behind and circle once before withdrawing because it’s all Eddie needs, all Eddie can stand: it is but one touch. Not even inside him—though now there is another thing he will long for, for all of his days, with all of his being.

But the longing is for later; just now Eddie is coming apart, splitting at the seams.

Falling though, he finds, is an ecstasy of its own, as Eddie sees either the backs of his own eyes, blown beyond redeeming in the spindly trace of delicate-webbed light, or else he finds instead the face of god incomprehensible when he spills, faster than he’d ever hoped he’d manage should he find himself unthinkably in such a position, but harder than he imagines Steve can possibly expect, certainly with a force Steve can’t have predicted save that Eddie can feel his throat work tirelessly, dedicated singlemindedly to not merely taking all that Eddie gives and leaving none to waste like he relishes it, like he craves it with the wholeness of himself somehow—but then further still Steve moves to milking Eddie dry, sucking every third breath in as more a rhythmic excuse to take back in Eddie’s softening, emptying member in turn: insistent. Devoted. Greedy in the most awe-inspiring sense because this man, this man—

This is his wholesale devotion; aimed at Eddie Munson, and him alone.

He barely feels as Steve touches lips to the tip of him, a soft adieu to mirror his brazen hello, and tucks him gently, carefully back into his trousers, slides up Eddie’s chest and, careful once again, laces back his shirt to the neck, one hand pressed to the center of his chest where Eddie’s heart has yet to receive the notice to calm, perhaps because there is no calm, there is only…Steve.

Steve Harrington. Atop him. Adoring him. Hard still for him where his legs are spread now to near straddle Eddie as he tends to him, but never once does he sacrifice Eddie’s pleasure for his own. But Eddie so wants to return the favor.

By then, Steve’s composed Eddie back to something only generally debauched—there’s nothing to be done with the way Eddie imagines the haze in his eyes is drawn in the shape of hearts, pulsating mad and riotous and still disbelieving because how, how did—

Before Eddie can collect his mind as well as Steve’s collected his appearance, before he can plan a way to repay Steve, to ease the low-slung strain caught tight between his legs—before any of it, Steve’s lips are wide against Eddie’s, like he aims to devour but like this, Steve’s tongue can immediately lick into Eddie's mouth, where he's welcome, where Eddie has never tasted himself before but he knows instinctively where he ends and Steve’s savour begins already: he’s had two, admittedly thorough, chances to memorize that flavor, and let the almighty strike him down in his mindless, unthinkable bliss if he’d been fool enough to waste either opportunity to remember every hint, each subtle note of Steven Harrington’s taste upon his teeth, delectable across his soft palate.

It is maybe the certainty of that knowledge, his own devotion, that makes him bold, then, that makes Eddie slide his tongue back and deepen the kiss and revel in Steve's moan before he rocks his hips upward and—

“Oh!” Eddie gasps, breaks away as he hears by pure coincidence, his heartbeat still heady in his ear but it knocks differently, in a wholly different register, than a knock at a door.

Of a carriage.

One that he’s been recently, gloriously defiled in, and where he had been just about to stage a reprise in reverse, and oh, oh Steve’s leaning back in, Steve is no fan of Eddie breaking from his mouth and neither is Eddie, not in the least, but—

“Steve,” Eddie tries to keep his wits but they were scrambled already before Steve pulls at his lip with his teeth and Eddie moans and tries to pull back, a little hazy on the why until Steve pants hoarse:

“What?”

And oh. Right. Yes.

“Steve, we are at your house.”

And they both part, spit-slick mouths shiny and bruised as they stare at one another, gasping.

Before Steve huffs, eyes wide , and whines so fucking deliciously:

“Oh, God,” he laments, glancing out the quite-poorly-curtained window. “Could the carriage driver not keep on driving?”

He turns pleading eyes on Eddie who chokes on the bubble of laughter that rises in him—and when Steve loses the battle against his own giggling Eddie’s got no chance, they’re both falling into one another, forehead to forehead and shaking with…joy.

Just such a joy, the sort Eddie’s never felt. Never knew could even be.

“Do you think anyone saw us?” Eddie asks idly, now glancing out toward Steve’s home. “I was not paying much attention to…anything,” Eddie chuckles, tries to process the notion of having paid notice to anything but Steve, and Steve, and Steve, and—

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, cold shooting suddenly through his body because Steve is climbing out, Steve is leaving and Eddie, he, he thought? It had felt so, so real and it’d…Steve hadn’t looked like he looks when he thinks he’s in love, he looked like he really could be—

“Steve?” Eddie fights the way his heart tries to jump anxious to his throat or drop leaden to his shoes, he fights to speak evenly, to ask without fear or audible heartbreak, to trust this man who’s held his heart and still does, and Eddie did the same, was allowed, it can’t have only been him, it—

“Are you coming with me?”

Eddie’s pulse trips. Hard.

“What?” he asks, blinking, lost, but Steve holds out his hand and smiles small but so soft, so fond, so…safe.

Eddie’s heart doesn’t slow but it settles a little. Back toward the space that’s meant for it in his chest.

“Your,” Eddie licks his lips and oh, dear god, he still tastes of Steve, of him-and-Steve; “your family will see me.”

Steve wastes no time rolling his eyes but…but again: so fond.

So far beyond how he looks when he thinks he’s in love, and—

“For God’s sake, Edward Munson,” Steve huffs with a grin as he shakes his arm out at the wrist, beckons Eddie more clearly as he speaks the unthinkable:

“Are you going to marry me or not?”

And Eddie’s jaw drops, and his heart surges again, tries to soar, flutters wild as he doesn’t even think before taking Steve’s hand, and maybe his heart lands there too, and it’s impossible.

Save that Steve’s leading him to his home. Steve’s walking hand in hand in the night. With him.

If it is a dream, Eddie has no desire ever to wake.

yes Lord Alexei is a shoutout to this adorable man and his love of cherry Slurpees🍒

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

divider credits here and here and here

💫 ao3 link here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #bridgerton fusion #this gets 🔥SPICY🔥 at the cut #romance #fluff #friends to lovers #fluff and angst #happy ending #misunderstandings #marriage proposal #first times #virgin eddie #criminally soft #schmoop #dialogue adapted from S3E4 #gift fic #hbyrde36 #pearynice #penny00dreadful #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

[godmybackhurts]

The Star Wars time travel AU I'll never get around to writing

Anakin had just thrown Palpatine down the shaft, and this time, had avoided most of the lightning. Just as he is about to collapse, there is a flash, as if he had been struck once more. When it clears, he is on Naboo, right as Maul is about to stab Qui-Gon. Without thinking, he calls his lightsaber to him (it had managed to come with him) and blocks the strike. Despite being bulky and slow and unable to even dodge, he's a master swordsman, leagues better than Maul, and more powerful in the Force. So he "kills" Maul, by slicing him in half, right as Obi-Wan gets in (Maul still survives on the trash planet, but now his anger is not directed at Obi-Wan, it is directed at the man in the black mask, the rival apprentice; he never gets his revenge, never gets to make the man hurt, because he has no connections in this life)

Qui-Gon survives, and once he's gotten through the shock, he and Obi-Wan pull their blades on Anakin. They do not know he isn't there to kill them. After all, he's dressed similarly enough to the Sith apprentice who just tried exactly that. And infighting is the way of the Sith, after all, maybe this one wanted a leg up. He does not attack, only defends (he cannot use Soresu as effectively as Master Kenobi ever could, but he can still use it well enough, in conjunction with the force). It takes Padmé arriving to stop the Jedi. Eventually, he is asked his name. He knows that he can never go by Anakin again, so he continues to use Vader. He does not get any improvements to his suit (only to his prosthetics, which he does himself) except for one thing. He has it remade in more traditional Jedi colors. He does not stop his reliance on it, nor the overall design, and with very little explanation, only "So I do not become again what I once was."

#original post #star wars #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #darth maul

[arkaix]

*breaks through the wall* I CANNOT EXPRESS ENOUGH HOW GRATEFUL I AM FOR YOUR MORTIMER POST I AM KISSING YOU RN /PLATONIC PLATONIC-

mortimer is so underrated us mortimer fans have to scrounge in the dirt for content and will have to keep doing that until pastra shows us mercy and he shows up in some promo art or in doai itself. but seeing fan content that we all create makes it worth the wait frfr! anyways, im going to be freaking out over this for the next week, thank you so much, farewell-

ABJDJRJFJJEJXJRJEHHFHTJW thankyousomuch aaa (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ I cannot WAIT to see how Mort will fit into the main story, but for now we'll make it work with what we have (not much TwT)

Recently Pastra posted a tweet with the moral alignment of all the characters and 👀👀 Mortimer is lawful neutral apparently!

That's interesting, maybe since Mort is working for the Lankmann foundation he'll be thinkin' "Yea maybe what's happening is fucked up but I believe it's necessary/ the lesser evil"

That's not gonna stop me from drawing him as a little gremlin hehehe

(definitions taken by the D&D alignment chart wiki)

Now while we're here allow me to ramble a bit about this tweet because there's a lot to ponder 👀👀

here goes out the window any chance that Clyde might be an even remotely peaceful creature in normal circumstances: it's here to get its revenge and it's gonna cause as much damage as possible in the meantime <@_@>

On the other side Winfrey is true neutral aaaaaaa ✨✨

Klaus is the one that baffles me the most because?? The one Veldi who Pastra described as the sadistic one is Lawful??

We know for a fact that Klaus is the name of officer Krueger's son, who in the current timeline is still VERY young (we're talking like 10yr young). We still don't know yet if in this new version of the story Veldigun share a mind with the ones they consume but if that's the case, will lil' Klaus have a warped and strict vision of society and rules? Will this aspect be influenced by Klaus' dad himself? Will his "system" or strict code of conduct be related or opposite to the one reinforced by Lankmann?

SIMON IS STILL GOOD CONFIRMED YEAAAAA

______________________________________________________________

Oh and if you were wondering about Lankmann:

That also surprised me 'cause my first thought was "Well he'd be lawful evil, he is in charge of a rigid system he created and is absolutely willing to sacrifice a few people if that can help save the county from the whole Veldigun crisis" but talking with some friends I realized this alignment makes sense too, if you think about Herbert as a ruthless man who will stop at nothing to achieve his goal, no law and no moral is unbreakable. It is debatable if he also actively wants to cause harm to others, but my guess is that he just doesn't care who gets hurt.

That being said thank you so much for the ask, have a cyber hug (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ⊂⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠⊂⁠)

#expect more Mortimer content in the next days I'm having too much fun with him heheheh #arkaix talks #doai #dreams of an insomiac #pastra #pastraspec

[rogunetocentral]

One of the many things I love about Rogueneto as a Rogue fan is the way Rogue is written as herself not as a tragic heroine.

The tension in the relationship was never about her powers. Instead, it was based on missed timing along with philosophical differences. They held affection for each other but it could not be realized while on opposite sides. I always found their relationship dynamic to be more interesting than making Rogue obsessed with physical touch because she thinks her boyfriend will stop loving her or will move on to someone else they cannot touch one another.

Rogueneto allows Rogue and the readers to bypass the adolescent drama to get to the mature relationship dynamic. Can two people with different methods for the same goal be in a relationship while on opposing sides? Is there a way for them to compromise or meet in the middle? Can someone wounded by love & death be open to giving themselves to love again?

Rogueneto inherently had the right questions built into it but unfortunately those questions were never fully asked. By time Rogueneto happened again during Utopia, they were on the same side and mostly focused on safekeeping the endangered mutants. But still their connection and eventual romance allowed us to have Rogue in a relationship where she was not playing the emotional damsel in distress, she wasn't plagued by insecurities that she wouldn't be loved if she didn't throw her sacrifice her identity and independence for a relationship. The relationship was an attachment to Rogue but it didn't overtake her character.

The balance of the two characters was based on Rogue taking charge and Magneto relinquishing control because he knew Rogue was capable of leading. They bumped heads due to their personalities but still worked in perfect unison to get the job done. Rogue and Magneto were always their individual selves in their relationship they didn't have to merge to become this new entity of personalities to make the relationship work. Rogue did not have to worry about if he loved her enough because she was an adult and knew her worth was not in other's love for her but her love for herself. The only real hangup to Rogueneto was deciding if Rogue wanted to revisit previous heartache. I wish we could have gotten more time with them officially together as I would love to the dynamic of Magneto in love and Rogue stable and secure in her feelings for once.

I really enjoyed this era for Rogue, it gave us Rogueneto back but also kept Rogue as herself and tried to propel her character forward instead of keeping her tied to a specific characterization. Rogue was independent, had 100% control of her powers, she want and who she wanted, didn't hold back on anyone, and was allowed to interact with multiple characters substantially. It was a once in every 20 years type of writing for her.

#rogue #rogueneto #otp: we share a kinship #magneto #roguneto #ship analysis #Random thoughts

[toomuchracket]

yesterday i saw an alexa demie ad for calvin klein and she looked sososo hot in it and for some reason i thought of bday girlie doing one…

oh i fancy her so bad. where even is she these days? anyway. you're editing a draft at home when the email from your publicist comes in, and when he hears your squeak of disbelief matty runs through from the kitchen (closely followed by mayhem) like "darling? what is it? you alright?"; you just slide the laptop to him, gripping his arm while he reads the email saying calvin klein want you for a campaign with wide eyes, nodding like "yeah, i know" when he turns to you looking shocked. you're like "so... should i?", and matty blinks for a second before he says "why are you even asking? of course you should, babe, this is MASSIVE" - you snuggle into him and say "am i right for it, though?", and he's like "nobody else looks as hot as you in underwear, so, yeah, you're right for it", and you have a little giggle before he sighs and says "fuck, this might actually do me in, seeing you proper modelling calvins. wait - you're doing this alone, yeah? i don't have to watch you take pictures with that ripped guy from the bear or anything? the one with the eyes?" lol. you snort and double check, teasing matty like "just me. shame. he's fit", and matty rolls his eyes like "it's only cos he plays a chef. it's a sexy career, anyone would look good in that context. me? i'd be so fucking hot if i was a cook", and you go off into a little daydream thinking about that like "mmm, yeah, you would" but then smile at him like "anyway, s'just me in the campaign, nobody else", and matty kisses your nose like "just like my thoughts", the sap. so yeah you go and do the shoot, it's a lot of fun, you feel really sexy, you get a lot of free shit to take home (for you AND matty, which is good because he looks fittest in black calvins, you think lol), and when the campaign is released matty literally goes into heat lmfao. like, the man CANNOT keep his hands off you - you're so fucking sexy, and you're his? he's obsessed. he literally stopped in the middle of the pavement on regent street one day cos the campaign pics were in the window of the ck shop and nearly got mown down by tourists on their way to hamleys, and when you're like "matthew! what the hell!" he just shrugs and says "worth it to get to look at how fit you are". simp of all simps i fear <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #into the birthday partyverse

[moneymartin]

cowgirl shauna hcs? :0 maybe transmasc cowboy reader 🫣

🐶 - cowgirl!shauna hcs

warnings: smut underneath the other divider and suggestive content above it :3 meant for tmasc!r but half can be seen as gn.

a/n: sorry yall i rlly thought the fic was gonna come out today but i have to start packing up for sequoia earlier than i was supposed to ?? anyways go easy on me w this one lol first shauna thing

taglist: @deerlottie @ultrone

she is the towns sweetheart for sureeee!!!!

it’s the charm… i mean the southern accent.

she’s always seen lassoing the cows on her farm or doing some stuff with the tractor for the crops

def has a goat somewhere on that farm

named buttercup.

her horse’s name is dolly or something stupid like sweetie pie

has one of the rlly cute horses though so

one like this

she’s always in the saloons fosho

that’s where you met her ackshually

other than the fact that she sees you riding around on your horse in the desert w a revolver in your pocket to look cool 😭

she thinks you’re really freakin handsome like she cannot stop thinking about you

after a break up or something with your gf she ends up finding you at the saloons all mopey and you drowning yourself in crappy beer

you were probably all rustled up

i mean crying

she’s swooning you over tho INSTANTLY!!! the accent is everything to you

she ended up sitting next to you and asked you if you were okay like she was supes careful about your feelings 🥲

but you’re so drunk you can’t even understand 💀💀💀

so she takes you to some mountain where you can get a nice breather afterwards:(

you’d end up kissing her accidentally i fink… she’s mid sentence and you do it unconsciously

shauna isn’t shocked but she’s more so into it

she’s running her hands through your hair and feeling underneath your shirt for some chest hair:3

definitely runs her fingers over your top surgery scars 🥹 saying you’re handsome over and over again like ughhh

you’re the outlaw of the town though like your face is plastered all over the place with wanted posters

but she still LIKES YOU!!!

i strictly believe that she’d have a strawberry farm and that she’d come over to the saloons to find you and give you a fresh basket of them every week

she bakes with them too me thinks

chocolate covered strawbs are her specialty

and you’re the taste tester 🤞

you’d come over to her place with your horse lookin all hot or wtv but when you see her you get all soft and stuff

which is different since everyone thinks you’re super scary cs you’re literally a criminal 😭

hugging and kissing shauna while picking her up is your guys’ thang

i’m imagining there being another guy fighting over her and she’s making you two fight for her physically …

if he won she’d still pick you ☺️

if you’re a first timer she’s a TOTAL angel

telling you what to do and everything she’s amazing

if you hurt her i think she’d make you stop for a little before going again but she doesn’t get upset because she knows you’re unexperienced 🥲

okay but when it comes to her doing smth to you…

MERCILESS

she’s sucking you off at the same time while fingering you like holy shiet

if you guys were alone she’d sit on you for a while while playing w your hair

before she starts grinding on you…

GIVING YOU ALL THOSE SOUTHERNY NICKNAMES TOO DURING IT

“darlin’” “sugar” “cutie pie” “lovebug”

those are so cute fr tho

praises you too

takes you to the mountains where you accidentally kissed her that one time to hookup every now and then

makes you wear your cowboy hat while she rides your strap

save a horse ride a cowboy type shi

OMAGAH WOW

“easy now, cowboy” when you’re fucking her without her doing everything for the first time

def your favorite line

she prefers when you’re still all cowboyish thats why she wants the hat on at ALL times

WHEEWWW i need her .

IM DONE THANK YOU

#shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman smut #shauna shipman headcanons #yellowjackets headcanons #my works

[the-kr8tor]

Part two of older Hobie! x Older reader:

Warning, I'm mean.

There are pictures of you all over, he smiles as he recognizes you through all of them. You're so beautiful to him, even as you aged you hadn't lost any beauty. Only getting more mature and always looking back at him with love and a kindness he can't begin to describe, a kindness he hadn't had most of his life. The only thing he had been awarded for living a tough life had been you, and what a reward you were.

He walked alongside the small room, the flowers smelled great. They were your favourite, he recognized them just at the scent even if he forgets the name. He starts to look around the room, wondering if you'll come out soon. Where were you? Where was his dove? He needs to tell you about today, how lovely everything is. He wanted to give you a kiss and an I love you. He couldn't hold your hand as well as he used to, his hands now shaking a bit but he'd still find every way to do it.

He walks a bit closer, wondering why the room is empty exception from him. He looks at the box in front of him, standing over it with a curiosity he's always had. He freezes and looks down at you, how pretty you looked, he chokes back sobs as he recognizes you, his mind fuzzy. Where is he.

You look so old now, beautiful but tired. He rests his hand on your cold face as tears flow down his face, seeping into his wrinkles.

"When'd you get 'ere dove? Oh love...when'd you die? Who put you 'ere...that ain't right. This isn't right at all"

He remembers you breathing and alive, but now he isn't so sure anymore. When had your skin grown cold, when had the blood stop flowing through you, when had your eyes went extinct? Had he been there? He can't recall and he can only cry at the sight, his heart clenching as he holds a shaky hand over his heart.

He had grown old without you, actually you had grown old together, not that he remembered currently. He could only mourn the loss of his life, the loss of his past, present and future. All the flowers in the world couldn't hold a candle to you even when you were encircled with them. Above you stands a plaque, your name, when and how you died. He stares at it in confusion, behind the door silent tears fall as three younger adults watch their father. All of them mourn two things that day: your loss and your Hobie's loss. Two love birds who can no longer sing and fly together. One now long departed and left the other to drift in the deep and quiet halls of memory.

His tears fall into the coffin, he doesn't remember who else is meant to be there but why is the room so empty. He feels it's unjust, you would've deserved to be loved. Where are all your friends? Your family, his family? He cries as his brain asks itself the same question over and over again, failing to break he cycle with his feeble memory. Before he feels an arm wrap around his own, guiding him outside. They seem kind, his mind drifts to how you used to do the same. Oh where you again? You must be at home, that's right, you were always at home. The place he knew and loved, because it had you in it. He smiles, forgetting how to cry and what he's lost as he thinks of what he thinks awaits for him back home. The person holding his arm sobbing as they wipe away their tears, if only their dad recognized them. To him home had been you, so where would he go now. His smile is accompanied by the pain he cannot show as his kid which he doesn't recognize as leads them to his car. What had been his car. It smells like you, how wonderful. Your perfume lingers, he can't wait to go back home and tell you about his day.

-🪦 NOW. YOU A S K E D. and I am providing, so shoo no witch hunt 😚/j

OH MY FUCKING GOD AND HERE I THOUGHT IT WOULDN'T BE THAT SAD 😭😭😭

Funny enough (it's not) when one bird from a pair of lovebirds die, one soon follows so with that in mind I shall jump off a cliff brb

THE LAST FUCKING LINE GAHHHHHHH PUNCHING A WALL TO FEEL MANLY AGAIN

#ask answered #hobie thoughts #older! hobie #🫶🫶🫶 #🪦 anon

[lostyesterday]

My top ten favorite B7 scenes

B’Elanna/Seven is my current favorite Star Trek ship, so I wanted to make a list of my personal favorite scenes featuring the two of them in Voyager. These scenes aren’t necessarily good (although I do think some of them are), and they’re not necessarily the scenes that provide the best “evidence” for B7 as a ship (which isn’t something I care about all that much to be honest). These are just the scenes that I personally enjoyed and have thought about the most.

10. Someone to Watch Over Me

This episode is terrible, but given how much I’ve thought about this particular scene, I couldn’t not include it. This is the Voyager scene that most clearly demonstrates how obsessed Seven is with B’Elanna and particularly with her romantic relationships. To me personally, this screams oblivious gay crush taking the form of jealous obsession. Obviously, B’Elanna is right and Seven is stepping way out of line here. This is probably the worst thing Seven ever did to B’Elanna and she’s so justified in being mad about it.

9. Survival Instinct

I really enjoy this scene because it’s an example of both B’Elanna and Seven trying to change the adversarial nature of their relationship. B’Elanna is trying to help Seven here even though she has difficulty with her. Seven immediately regrets her defensive response to B’Elanna’s attempted helpfulness. I think it’s interesting to see how the two of them have fallen into a pattern, responding defensively to each other because they’re used to their dynamic being adversarial, when they both theoretically have the capacity to understand each other better than most other people understand either of them.

8. Infinite Regress

The infamous cheek bite scene. Is this scene good? No, probably not. Has it lived in my head rent free since I originally saw it? Yes, absolutely. Technically, you could call this the only intentionally sexually coded Seven/B’Elanna scene in the show. Mostly, the thing I can’t stop thinking about is the two of them joking about it afterward. B’Elanna jokingly asking if this qualifies as their second date… I will think about that line forever.

7. The Voyager Conspiracy

I love everything about this. Seven immediately calling B’Elanna as soon as she thinks she’s found a problem with the ship’s systems regardless of how early it is in the morning. The tone of B’Elanna’s response implying this probably isn’t the first time this has happened. B’Elanna actually investigating the problem even though she’s rightfully irritated at Seven for being so annoying. I love them.

6. Course: Oblivion

It’s so, so easy to interpret this scene as Seven being jealous of Tom’s relationship with B’Elanna. Me when the person I have a crush on just got married: Monogamy is stupid, and it would make way more sense and be better if everyone (you) would have sex with anyone they want to, whenever (me, right now).

5. Human Error

Ignoring my issues with this episode, it’s so interesting how one of Seven’s major attempts to become “more human” is to try to connect to B’Elanna in this way. I think she chose B’Elanna here because she’s someone Seven genuinely wants to connect with at this point in the series, but she still struggles with how to make that connection. Also, I cannot stop thinking about Seven thinking in detail about how B’Elanna does her hair. Given the rest of the scene, I think it makes sense to say that she didn’t choose this question/compliment/terrible flirtation randomly and has genuinely just admired B’Elanna’s hair a lot. Which sure is something. And of course I love B’Elanna’s confusion here. She can tell Seven’s trying really hard to be nice, which is so not like Seven that she can hardly believe it.

4. Message in a Bottle

I love how these two scenes represent both the adversarial tension between B’Elanna and Seven, and the potential ways they could relate to and understand each other with time. B’Elanna is clearly deeply frustrated with Seven, and yet she still tries to explain to Seven why people (not just B’Elanna) are reacting negatively to her. And B’Elanna can obviously relate to being perceived by others as rude, which makes her statement that she doesn’t expect Seven to change overnight, with the subtext that she understands deeply how difficult this situation is for Seven too, really fascinating. Seven initially appearing to ignore B’Elanna and then later saying thank you to her compliment is also great. Also, B’Elanna’s reaction to Seven shocking that guy is so fun.

3. Extreme Risk

This is a short interaction, but it’s so interesting. Seven initially tries to engage in their ordinary adversarial back and forth, but when B’Elanna doesn’t respond in the typical way, immediately asks if something is wrong. I love that Seven is the first person in the episode to notice that there’s something wrong with B’Elanna. It’s so interesting that Seven seems almost disturbed by the lack of any hostility in B’Elanna’s responses and by B’Elanna immediately putting Seven in charge of something she was going to do. I think that, in a way, Seven has grown comfortable with her adversarial dynamic with B’Elanna because it’s familiar. Maybe B’Elanna has grown comfortable with it to, to a certain extent, and her lack of willingness to engage in the typical verbal sparring of their relationship in this episode comes from the same place as her lack of desire to participate in the normal routines of her other relationships. I guess I’m suggesting here that maybe Seven and B’Elanna are both more important to each other than the show explicitly portrays.

2. Hope and Fear

The iconic “we’ll be outcasts together” scene. This is probably the single scene that best illustrates the parallels between Seven and B’Elanna – how both of them have been treated like outcasts and deep down expect to continue to be outcasts forever. How both of them feel deeply ambivalent about belonging – desiring it desperately and yet pushing away from it because they believe they can never have it. Also, B’Elanna’s defensive excuse that she was “joking” two seconds after she realizes she was accidentally way too vulnerable is so good.

1. Imperfection

Thinking about this scene makes me want to scream incoherently, but I’ll try to summarize my main thoughts concisely and analytically. This is probably the scene where B’Elanna and Seven genuinely connect and relate to each other most strongly. B’Elanna understands better than anyone else in this episode what Seven needs, and Seven trusts B’Elanna of all people to ask these questions to, to be vulnerable with in this way. B’Elanna saying that Seven’s made an impact on every member of the crew is… a lot. B’Elanna truly listening to Seven here and understanding what it is that’s bothering her and saying the exact right thing in response. The whole framing of this scene with the close-up shots on faces, the softness in B’Elanna’s voice. Fuck.

#star trek voy #b'elanna x seven #lane posts