#BUT it would mean i would have to eat them all on my own

[1d1195]

The Lottery I

~3.7k words

From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: angst (?) fluff

Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.

“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.

“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”

The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.

“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”

“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”

“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.

“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.

It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”

She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.

“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”

“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”

*

She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.

But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.

Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.

But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.

Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.

With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.

They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.

She hoped her grandma was right.

Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.

The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.

*

The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.

The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.

God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.

As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.

With one deep breath, she entered.

It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.

Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.

You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.

“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.

“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”

“Harry!” Someone called.

“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.

“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.

“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where are you living?”

“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.

“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.

“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.

“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.

Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.

“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.

“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.

Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed.  When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.

Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.

But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”

“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”

She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”

“I like it all,” he shrugged.

“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”

“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.

But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.

Was this grumpy man amused? By her?

“...Do you have a recommendation then?”

“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.

She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have white chocolate chips?”

Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.

“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”

“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”

Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.

But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”

“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.

“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”

“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”

“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"

“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”

“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”

Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"

“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”

Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.

With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.

The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.

Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"

Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”

She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”

“Usually before nine-thirty.”

“Usually?”

Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”

Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”

She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.

“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”

“Whose house?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Whose house did y’buy?”

“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.

“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.

Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.

Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.

“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”

Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”

That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.

She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.

Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.

There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)

But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.

One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.

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[transformers-spike]

After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD

Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.

Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.

Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.

Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.

If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.

Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake. 

“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.

Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.

Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.

[schluttforschlatt]

O Christmas Tree

No warnings, just a lil fluff based on a post @marsandwich made

I’m usually the worlds biggest grinch but with the Christmas album coming out in like a week I figured why not get a lil festive :)

WC: 1.5k

Schlatt x Reader (no explicit gender)

The smell of cranberry and cinnamon wafted through the apartment, accompanied by the gentle hum of the central air system running. You hadn’t meant to take an afternoon nap, but the long morning you had with your boyfriend (Christmas tree shopping, to be exact) tuckered you out. Yawning, you trotted down the stairs and into the living room, where a scene straight out of a Hallmark film was playing out. Two cats, one orange and one black, sat on the coffee table, overseeing a unique holiday ritual (stringing lights on said tree) being performed by their adopter (your lovely, handsome boyfriend). Their tails danced around each other until the little orange menace took notice of your sudden presence and chirped up at you. Your boyfriend turned around almost instantly, moving to close the distance between the two of you.

“Hey, Doll. Feelin’ better?” He asked, ruffling your hair as your arms circled around his middle. You nodded your head into his chest.

“Didn’t mean t’ fall asleep,” you mumbled at him, though your voice was muffled by the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He mimicked your actions, bringing his own arms to wrap around your waist. “Guess I waited too long to eat and felt off.” He hummed in agreement, the sensation vibrating in his chest.

“Well, you made it down here just in time. Made some mulled cider like my mom used to make for us growing up. It’s just about done,” you took a deep breath in, reveling in the sweet scent of citrus and spice. “Figured we could have some while we decorate the tree.” He pulled back a bit to smile down at you, a gesture that you returned up at the taller man.

“Sounds great, Jay. I love you.” He releases his arms and opts to grab one of your hands instead, leading you into the kitchen. It wasn’t often that he played around in the kitchen, too many burnt pizzas tainting the art of cooking for him. But it was the holiday season, and he loved to go all out. Though this would only be your second Christmas together, he insisted that mulled cider was a tradition for him. Oh, how you looked forward to many many more with him. He pulled your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to them before letting your arm drop.

“I love you, too. You wanna grab some mugs for us?” You nodded in response, taking a step over to the cupboard that housed glassware. You felt a firm smack land on your left ass cheek, spinning around to point an accusing finger at your boyfriend. Before you could open your mouth to jokingly threaten Jay, his arms went up in defense and his face became a tinted light pink.

“Sorry, Toots,” a playful grin tugging at his lips. “There was a bug or somethin’.” You shook your head, giggling as you returned to the cupboard. Opening the wooden doors up, you grabbed down a Minecraft mug for yourself, and decided your boyfriend would get a silly Twilight one. The two of you had accidentally begun a fun little mug collection after a trip to an antique store in your hometown. It started with a novelty mug that said “Left Handed Mug” in a blocky font, and on the “backside” a small hole so that if the user was to drink from the cup with their right hand, it would just spill. Its purpose was served one morning when you went to take a sip of Schlatt’s unattended hot tea, pouring the drink down your chest. You couldn’t even be mad about that incident, there was a large bold warning right on the ceramic.

Closing the cupboard up, you shifted back towards your boyfriend, setting both mugs down adjacent to him. He glanced over and let out a soft chuckle at your selection.

“I forgot we had ‘Bella, Where the Hell have you been, Loca?’ still.” You scoffed.

“What do you mean, ‘still’? It was a gift from Ted! I could never part with it!” You waved your hands in an exasperated manner. Jay smiled at you once again and filled the mugs with the sweet concoction, using a ladle to scoop fruit and cinnamon into each glass.

The two of you stood in the kitchen discussing dinner plans for the coming evening. If it was two o’clock currently, then you’d probably be done with the tree around five-ish, be able to order a pizza at six, which gave you plenty of time to clean up before settling in on the couch for the night to watch Die Hard (it absolutely is a Christmas movie, thank you very much). After agreeing what toppings to get on said pizza, you both made haste for the living room. Setting the mugs down on the coffee table and shooing the cats out of the room, you began to delicately unpack an absurd amount of baubles. You and Schlatt were very organized people, but you thought it was a tad unnecessary for him to store Every. Single. Ornament. In its original box. It didn’t matter if the box was 20 years old and falling apart, there was simply just no other way Schlatt could store them. He could be a strange critter sometimes.

“Want me to put a record on, Love?” You called to your boyfriend. His answer: A wide, crinkly eyed, toothy smile spread across his face. “Any requests?”

“Surprise me.” He responded.

You waltzed over to the entertainment center and searched for your favorite Christmas albums amongst your conjoined record collection. Jay’s, of course, being “A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra”, and yours, “Elvis’ Christmas Album”. Long before your relationship, you’d had a conversation about Christmas music and the love/hate relationship you both shared for it. Only acceptable between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve. Only classics, the ones that brought nostalgia and memories of baking cookies with your grandmothers.

Satisfied, you removed the first record from its sleeve, placing the vinyl onto the turntable, and maneuvered the needle to the edge of it. After a pressing the “on” button, the wax came to life, blessing the room with Elvis’ “Santa Clause is Back in Town”. You returned to your spot next to Schlatt, and eagerly began stringing colorful ornaments all around the tree.

You didn’t know exactly how long the two of you had spent decorating the tree, but you did know that your Elvis record had played once through in entirety, and Jay’s Sinatra record was halfway through the second round of side a.

After giving the tree a final once over, Schlatt leaned down to pull you into his chest, resting his chin atop your head. You reached up, hands rubbing soothing circles on his biceps.

“She looks perfect, Doll,” he nearly whispers, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “But, we’re missing the pièce de rèsistance.” You stare forward, scanning the branches high and low. Jay takes notice of this, removing an arm from your body to point up. The star.

“I didn’t see it in the storage boxes, that completely slipped my mind,” you admitted, tapping Schlatts arm to let you go. You crouch down, sifting through tissue paper and crumbling cardboard scattered around the floor by the tree, but do not see any signs of a tree topper. “It should’ve been in one of these boxes, no?”

“I didn’t see the star either, but I do see an angel right in front of me.” You look up to your boyfriend, rolling your eyes at his corny joke, but unable to stop the bashful smile creeping up your cheeks. He reciprocates the gesture.

“In all seriousness though, I haven’t seen it.” You run a hand through your hair, gently scratching at your scalp. “Are you sure it’s not in with the extra string lights?”

“I’ll go check the garage. You wanna start cleaning up?” Jay asks. You nod yes, and he swiftly walks out the front door, not bothering to engage any of the locks.

Clean up wasn’t too bad. It’s fairly easy to shove things back into the storage bins before dragging them towards the kitchen. It had been maybe all but ten minutes before your boyfriend re-emerges through the front door, a small box in hand. He removes the star from it, tossing the package on the coffee table before handing it to you. You stare at him dumbfounded, your eyebrows raising.

“Jay, I’m too short for this. I can’t reach the top.” He beams at you. What kind of plan does he-

“C’mon, short stack. Your own personal tall guy is ready to assist.” He jokes, kneeling down and patting his shoulders. You let out a soft laugh.

“Alright, big guy, just don’t drop me.” You entertain him, mounting his shoulders and holding on for dear life. He stands up slowly, as to not freak you out, and saunters closer to the tree. His grip on your thighs is comforting as you stretch your arms out, gingerly placing the missing piece of the puzzle in its rightful place. He takes a step back before kneeling down to let you dismount. Before you can plant both feet back on the floor, Schlatt’s arms engulf you once more, this time hoisting you up into a bridal carry, forcing a small squeak from you.

Pressing his forehead to your own and nuzzling your noses together, he takes a deep breath in, followed by a long exhale. You plant a kiss on his cheek, and in return receive a tender kiss on the lips.

“Merry Christmas, Angel.”

“Merry Christmas, Jay.”

Idk I’m not super happy with this, but I’m craving Christmas content so 🤷🏻‍♀️ chapter 2 of the bartender fic is coming out sometime within the week tho!!!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Acacius/Geta/Caracalla - In a relationship

Acacius/Geta/Caracalla x fem!reader

warning : fluff, cuddling, kissing, the emperors are their own warning (but they are quite cute)

info : Thanks for all the support guys it really means so much to me and as always have fun reading :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus Acacius

°Marcus Acacius was a famous army leader and above all a popular favourite, a man loved by the people and an important figure in Rome's elite, a person, a name bearer and above all a power like few other men-at-arms. Yet of all the sharp and strong sides, he had above all acquired a taste for love, not the purely physical act, as intense and stimulating as it was. The general was addicted to love through and through, he would give anything for her.

°A man who loved his wife with all his heart, from the moment he had seen her in the preparations for his victory procession to the moment he had entered her tent to seek out her company, ,,I wanted to thank my artist self for such a beautiful piece of work" he had greeted her, pointing to his coat. He had learnt that her creative hands could create such beautiful works and that this beauty was only surpassed by her own.

°His smile was sweet as honey, his beard a mixture of salt and pepper and his curly dark hair was reminiscent of a wild lion. A wild lion that became very gentle when it came to her heart. For every task the seamstress undertook he was with her to pick her up, from every meeting in the palace she brought him food and he gifted her with more kisses. Kisses of desire and love, his hand always on her side, taking her hand when she was nervous and kissing it goodbye.

°Her fear and the knowledge of the people's disgust whenever he was away he sent her parchments with words, words of love and reassurance that he would come back. The fabric of one of her dresses, the sweet smell of lavender every time he remembered her before a battle, imagining her and looking forward to seeing her again.

°Marcus had a side of curiosity when the couple sat together by the hearth eating the food they prepared together and she lay in his lap, his muscles holding her lightly and holding out a sweetened date to her with a ,,Nothing is sweeter than you" which she ate with relish. It was especially the nights when he rode out of Rome with his favourite, showing her places he had seen, explored and conquered, wrapping her in his cloak when the night got too cold.

°In the bedchamber, the warrior's hand wrapped around his wife's, holding her gently in the shawl himself as he stroked her skin and told her numerous legends before kissing her goodnight and leaving her to the dream god and falling asleep after her to make sure she was safe with him and no harm would come to her.

°Acacius is a man of loyalty who would stand up for his beloved and even compete in the Colosseum to defend her honour and if he had to he would even challenge the emperors if it meant protecting her. Even if Rome were to fall one day, he would turn his back on his homeland and be long gone with his beloved because the greatest treasure he had was her and no one else.

°He loved to call you heart and darling ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Geta

°Emperor Geta the emperor of Rome, one who was more refined than his brother a blond god in human form for the common people and a commander for the troops of the empire. Someone who had infinite power in politics and someone who loved to demonstrate his power over life and death. But above all, he demonstrated his love for his wife.

°He had chosen her from one of the fallen empires of the conquered enemies, even if she had little choice, there was something between them. He was an emperor, a god not a brutal monster, ,,You belong to me, you belong in Rome…at my side forever" he made clear to her as he placed the golden ring on her finger to the applause of the senate and his brother who giggled happily as the wedding was consummated.

°To the great surprise he was indeed no monster, he was a young emperor who ruled Rome, who would have the whole world and with such power came privileges, ,,Only the best for my goddess" he called her shortly after the wedding, whenever he came to her with one more beautiful piece of jewellery than the other. The goldsmiths outdid themselves with each new piece of jewellery for Geta's love. Skilful hands put the jewellery on her, a kiss on her lips rounded off the picture of her beauty for him

°A value, you were the most precious thing he had next to his brother, a goddess, a beauty for all the world to see and above all to respect. With one hand always holding yours as he walked through the palace to the senate, the old men all grasping for power were nothing without him…and above all they were nothing without her, ,,The words of my wife the Empress are heard and respected!" Geta shouted into the great room and raised her hand in acknowledgement it came to shouts of jubilation only a fraction later. They had no choice but to accept the empress because the vengeance and love of Geta was not something you wanted to mess with.

°But even if golden gifts were beautiful and expensive, it was above all this other side of him, the side of a man, a simple young man and no god, when he took off his lorber wreath and lay down in bed with her, ,,Your existence soothes the pain of all the political noise" she heard his murmur as he rested his head on her lap, his fingers, freed from rings, tracing small circles on her bed and symbols of writings as if he were still thinking about the conversations in the senate even now

°He appreciated all the more the gentle kisses that were so different from his own, where he was jealous for fear of losing you or his brother, it was the gentleness that moved him because it was a quality he was less good at. Kisses on his lips and cheeks the colourful single rings and the gentle removal of the golden lorber wreath and maybe just resting in bed together after a long day and tasting the benefits of wine and love before the day would dawn again.

°He loves to call you goddess and queen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Caracalla

°The emperor's brother, the more childlike, the more insane, the one with the thirst for war and blood, Emperor Caracalla. Dressed in gold with the monkey Dundus as a friend, he was the crazier half of his brother Geta, a young man and a young emperor whose love of war was surpassed only by the Colosseum and fighting or his beloved wife who was even better than amusement.

°Blue eyes with blond curly hair had been looking at her for a long time, one of the highborn noblewomen in his and his brother's circle, but never would he have thought that she had a hand for training wild bloodthirsty animals. From the moment she lashed out with the whip and the wild pavians were silent, the emperor was blown away by her.

°His thirst for blood for the first time was filled with love as he held her by his side, her laughter at his manner, the joy he radiated at almost all times and how happy he was when she showed him new animals. Her family traided with, animals like lions and tigers to monkeys and hippos, everything her sweet Caracalla wanted she could give him, ,,You are like the wonder of the gods, my sun" Caracalla always told her when she showed him new animals. His hand wrapped around hers before he pulled her into an embrace, a short intense kiss on her lips a reward and her giggle which made him happy.

°Happiness and amusement the most important thing for him and her he wanted amusement and not boredom and she wanted the happiness of love forever. Something in which the two complemented each other because Caracalla also had more to offer than just his fascination for blood, ,,I want to organise a fight entirely under the sign of our constellation!" he announced in the senate and Geta's approval made the others agree too, Caracalla and she had married under the sign of the archer and with bow and arrow he had given her a day of shooting practice together.

°The blood shed that day was matched only by his laughter as he clapped his hands like a delighted child when she hit one of the criminals and he always squeezed her hand, ,,Blood! Yes! You are divine my beautiful heart!" he shouted and the few spectators who had gathered in the Coloseum clapped and cheered to congratulate the emperor and his wife while Geta looked at the imperial family with a look of satisfaction. Before Caracalla rewarded her with another kiss and she kissed him back on the tip of his nose or forehead, he always tried to cover his pinken cheeks as he was almost shy about such things.

°A day of blood has to end sometime, a day when he enters the palace happily not addicted to blur intoxication, holding your hand. He insists that he feeds you his favourite sweet while Dundus the monkey gets his own little bowl of grapes. ,,So that no one can poison you, another piece of lemon cake dear," he said, taking a bite of the cake before holding out the other half to her. Childish as he was, she could never help but be happy in his company and even when they lay in bed together and he snuggled up to her, the sweet smile was worth all the effort.

°He loves to call you sun and heart ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @somepallings , @sigiismunda

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Little Red and Wolves

Warning: General Platonic Yandere nonsense, mostly wholesome fluff, abduction

You’d always been warned of the vicious beasts who supposedly roamed the country side of your prosperous town. Your adoptive father, Lord Keigo had tried making sure that you were safe from the creatures.

But being the naive child you were, you rarely heeded your father’s warnings.

“Bye daddy!” You bid farewell to your dad, who was in the midst of planning another hunt for the wolf men. You were outdoors, where the sun shone brightly and the grass was green.

It had been a plentiful harvest and new livestock had been born. In Keigo’s paranoid mind, the wolves were bound to steal the fruits of their labor. It wasn’t rare to see a few sheep or hens stolen from their pens or produce stolen.

But you remained blissfully unaware. Clad in your favorite red hood and bearing a basket of your necessities, you were ready for a day of adventure! Picking flowers, eating your lunch and maybe having a nap in the flower fields.

Keigo looked up from his plans and gave you a weary but gentle smile.

“Be careful kiddo! Be back before sunset or no dessert today, ‘kay?” You nodded, only to be stopped again by your father’s warnings. “If you see a wolf, scream loudly and yell for help.” You nodded, trotting off to continue your daily activities.

Tomura and Dabi had considered themselves masterful hunters and predators. Both abandoned as pups and learning the harsh ways of survival, they were fearsome, brutish beasts.

Sharp teeth, agile and strong bodies and frightening reputations to boot. But they had a rather simple, sweet desire.

To raise a pup of their own. While the pack they obtained was all well and good, they wanted a little pup. Shigaraki hadn’t considered himself parental by any means but it all changed when he spotted Keigo, that obnoxious lord who would stop at nothing to make them nothing more than fur rugs, reading you a bedtime story.

As inane as it sounded, it struck a chord in the blue-furred beasts. Dabi meanwhile had weirdly dreamt of fatherhood.

His own old man was a cruel, greedy man who stopped at nothing to obtain his “masterpiece.” Even if it meant callous behavior. Dabi was fully on board with his mate’s idea to obtain Lord Keigo’s child. That bastard didn’t deserve you anyway.

They’d caught the familiar scent of buttercups and your favorite scented soap as they slinked out of the dark woods. “Not really wise of the lord to let ‘em out like this.” Dabi grumbled, raising his lips slightly.

“Don’t fret, my ember. This is the perfect opportunity.” Shigaraki practically purred, licking his mate’s muzzle sweetly. “We got their room set up and the pack is ready to meet them. Now’s the perfect time.”

There you were, sleeping soundly. Shigaraki was the first to exit, carefully trotting up to you. He plopped down as he looked down at you. ‘Aww, like a little lamb.’ Shigaraki internally cooed.

His tail thumped happily as he sniffed at your hair, electing a sleepy giggle as you turned.

“Noo, silly puppy..” You whined, pulling your hood farther around your head. Shigaraki let out a low ruff, motioning for Dabi to come closer. Dabi wasted no time, drinking in the sight of you.

“Pup..” He rumbled, giving a gentle lick to your face. Shigaraki was about to ‘scruff’ you and put you on Dabi’s back but you woke up.

“Hmm?” You sat up, rubbing your eyes. Your vision was naturally blurry before you got a closer look. To you, they looked like giant dogs. Keigo had accidentally forgotten to remind you as to what they looked like.

“D-doggie?” You whispered. Shigaraki and Dabi exchanged looks before ultimately playing the part of giant dogs. Shigaraki delivered a few kisses to your face, earning giggles.

“Doggy.” You yawned again. “C-can we play later? I-I’m sleepy..” You whispered, lying back down. “Y-you can stay if you want.” Shigaraki gently placed you on Dabi’s back as you snuggled into the black one’s fur. Gently picking up your basket, Shigaraki and Dabi trotted into the woods.

Leaving nothing behind but the flowers you picked

[harryspurpleloofah]

Hii,

I just had this idea where like y/n and harry are alrrady together. Y/n sings really well, write her own songs and even record them, but is too shy to show anyone so she just keeps them to herself. However Harry came across one of her recorded songs and just FELL IN LOVE with them.

Thank you!!🥰

Hi love! I started this writing blog recently and you’re officially my first request, this means so much thanks! I’ll do my best.

You could give me a run for my money

TW: swearing, smut at the end, Oral fem receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex but they’re trying for a bub (use protection in real life please loves), tit sucking

The sun was setting behind the gorgeous skyscrapers of London. She hummed as she cut the vegetables for the lasagne Harry requested that night. He was working overtime at the studio tonight and she wanted to make sure she made a nice cozy meal for him.

She hummed to the tune of her latest song. She did this all the time when she was home alone when she got bored all by herself (and their cat Bowie, yes named after the rockstar. Harry’s idea but she didn’t object since she loved him too)

She was writing a little piece which was inspired all around her life and she had a basic tune for it but she kept getting stuck on the pre chorus. She hummed it again and again with the ending changing everytime she tried it.

Harry got in that same time. He closed the door quietly behind him. He heard her from the kitchen and tried to figure out what she was singing. He loved hearing her sing but she never did. For him sometimes, when she was drunk she would, but apart from that no way in hell. Especially in front of other people.

Then he realized was this another one of her own ones? He didn’t really know much since she never really told him either. He tried to listen in and it was beautiful. He snuck in slowly, and picked her up from behind to which she immediately erupted in laughs.

“Hi! You’re back.”

He smiled as he twirled her around and then put her down before pecking her cheek, “yes I am. How’re you baby?”

“I’m fine. Making lasagne.”

“Mm. Nice.”, he picks up a sliced tomato for the salad side and eats it. She smacks his hand, “stop that’s for the salad.”

“M’hungry.” He pouts.

“It’ll be done in just a bit. Go get something from the pantry till then.”

“Ok baby honey.”

He made his way to the pantry to start looking for food while humming..HER SONG??

“Where did you hear that?” She quickly asks

“Hm? You were humming it no?”

“I-..was I?”

“Yeah just as I came in. Banger tune babe. Who’s it by?” He closes the pantry and grabs a banana from their fruit basket instead.

“No one.”

“No one?”

“Nobody you’d know.”

“Hey I know everyone.”

“They’re really underground besides I forgot their name.”

“Look it up. Hey google, what song is this?” He opens his phone and hums the song. Obviously since the song isn’t out google has no clue. “That’s so weird honey. Even google doesn’t know.”

“Funny. Ok go have a shower I’ll put this in the oven.”

“I wanna know the song. It’s nice I wanna hear the rest of it.”

“Just leave it Harry.”

“But I-”

“Harry!”

“Whatt”

“Just move on”

He sighed, “ok but I just don’t get it why are you so pissed over a song?”

“Because it’s mine..”

“What?”

“I just like..make up little songs sometimes it was one of those”

“Wait wait wait! You’ve been making music this entire time?”

“Not this entire time..it was just recently. When you’d be at your studio. Basically remember you used to send me demos?”

“Mhm?”, he asks, chewing on the bite of banana.

“So I just used to get them stuck in my head then they’d only be half finished and I’d start making up my own endings for them. Then I couldn’t remember them so I wrote them down and I just started writing from there, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Have you ever recorded anything? Properly?”

She chuckles slightly, putting the knife down and turning around fully, “no. Not like you I just have some like…audio recordings nothing much.”

“Can I listen to one? Please?”

“No.”

“Please?? I really really want to.”

“Harry..”

“It can be my anniversary present.”

“A month early?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed. She handed him her phone to look through the recordings. His jaw dropped. They were fucking amazing. She took her phone, “ok enough.”

“Baby! You cannot be serious! This is so good!”

She smiles, genuinely feeling her heart warm. “Really?”

“Yes I love them.”

She wasn’t one of those people who knew her talents and still undermined them. If something she did was good she’d give herself the due credit. And she actually thought her songs were nice. But she didn’t want them out into the world. She just wasn’t ready for that sort of exposure yet.

“Baby?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Do you have like an instrumental back for this?”

“Yeah. It’s in the files on my computer why?”

“Cool…”

The next morning when she came downstairs he was on her computer.

“Haz?” She asked. “What are you doing?”

“Forget everything. Watch this.” He presses play. She’s shocked.

It’s her voice, her song, her music. He’d edited it all together and added a tiny bit of reverb and auto tune where needed. When the song finished he turned back to her, “isn’t it great?”

“I love it Harry..”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So should I talk to Jeff? Get you out there?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What?”

She frowned, “I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t..I wanna write for myself. Not anyone else.”

“Are you sure? We could really get you big. You could do this full time if you really enjoy it-”

“I don’t though Harry. I like my job this is just a hobby. I love it but not enough to do it full time. Not enough like you do.”

“Are you really sure my darling?”

“Yes. I don’t want it leaving this computer.”

Harry sighed, but then flashed her a grin, “you know what fine. Honestly m’happy.”

She smiled. “Why?”

“You could’ve been better than me baby. Thank god. You would’ve given me a run for my money.”

She laughed loudly, “really?”

“Honest. Now may I get some breakfast please?”

“Of course.”

“Or I could eat something else instead..”

“What?” She giggled

He looked her up and down ravishingly. “You perchance.”

“Huh. Let’s see..should I let you?”

“Yes. Please baby..”

She smiles.. “maybe.”

“That’s a yes,” he grabs her in a kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth. He trailed kisses over her neck, reaching her tits. He took her shirt off and captured her lips once again before undoing the bra buckle and latching his mouth on a hardened peak.

He let out a moan muffled into her skin as she moaned and pushed herself into his mouth even more. His kisses trailed down her stomach then down to her thighs, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pulling them down with her trousers, lapping at the arousal already running down her thighs.

“God look at you. So ready for me.” He licked a strip upwards, provoking a moan from her again. He ravaged her completely, focusing on her clit, sucking on it gently, flicking it with his tongue, not stopping despite her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs trying to squeeze shut in pleasure.

“Fuck Harry..please..I need to cum.”

“You will baby. Very soon. Just hang on two seconds for me I want you to cum on my cock yeah?”

“Yes-yeah please.”

He nudged her clit with the head of his hardened cock before pushing in with a grunt moan mix. “Yes fuck you’re so tight baby.”. He thrusted deeper, harder. He kept going until her moans were getting louder, her breath quicker and her pussy was clenching on his cock. “Ok love. Cum for me now.” He allowed her. She didn’t hesitate, costing his dick in her sweet juices.

It took mere seconds before he came with a groan, shooting hot loads into her womb. They’d been talking about hanging a baby. This wasn’t one of their planned tries but every thing counts? He gently pulled out of her and kissed her forehead.

“You were so good for me angel. Did you like it?”

“Yes Harry-god I loved it.”

“Good. You wait till tonight then.”.

[wadewnstonwilson]

older boyfriend wade wilson headcanons || suggestion by anonymous

pairing: wade wilson (deadpool) x genderneutral!reader

author note: let me know if you guys want me to make this into an actual fic!! also would love to make more headcanons in the future featuring logan or wade so please feel free to drop me an ask!

wade’s protective streak is amplified by the age gap. he knows you’re young and still figuring life out, so he’s hyper-aware of anything or anyone that might cause you stress. whether it’s a professor being unfair or a creep at a party, wade’s ready to swoop in. “do you want me to talk to them? or, y’know, scare the crap out of them? either works.”

wade’s surprisingly good at helping you study—mostly because he makes it fun. he’ll quiz you with ridiculous impressions, draw crude diagrams that somehow make sense, or turn your flashcards into a card game. if you’re struggling with a tough class, he’s your biggest cheerleader, reminding you of how smart you are even when you doubt yourself.

wade can’t stand seeing you stressed about money, especially when you’re juggling work and school. he’ll casually slip extra cash into your wallet or “accidentally” order way too much takeout so you have leftovers for days. if you protest, he brushes it off. “relax, baby, i’m just investing in my future sugar parent.”

wade constantly jokes about the age gap, calling himself a “cradle robber” or making exaggerated comments about how “back in his day,” things were different. it’s all in good fun, though, and he loves how your younger energy keeps him on his toes. “you’re like my very own personal time machine, babe. you make me feel young again. except for my knees—those still hate me.”

despite his humor, wade sometimes wrestles with insecurity about the age difference. he worries he’s too damaged or experienced for you and questions whether he’s holding you back. he doesn’t voice it often, but it’s clear in the way he sometimes pulls away or gets quiet when he sees you thriving in your college world.

wade is your rock during stressful times. when finals season rolls around, he’s there to remind you to take breaks, eat, and sleep. he might even bribe you with snacks or cuddles to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. “you can’t ace that exam if you’re running on fumes, babe. now eat this chimichanga before i cry.”

wade loves whisking you away from the monotony of college life for spontaneous dates. whether it’s midnight runs to a 24-hour diner or an impromptu road trip, he makes sure you’re not missing out on fun just because you’re busy with school.

while wade doesn’t want to overstep, he occasionally drops bits of wisdom from his own life experiences. if you’re struggling with a decision or feeling lost, he’s there to listen and gently nudge you in the right direction. “look , i’ve made enough dumb choices for the both of us. let me save you some trouble, okay?”

wade tries not to let it show, but he sometimes feels a little insecure about your college friends, especially if they’re closer to your age. he won’t stop you from hanging out with them, but he might throw in a sarcastic comment or two. “sure, go hang with your study group. but if any of them so much as *looks* at you funny, i’m calling in reinforcements. and by reinforcements, i mean me.”

wade tries to keep you at arm’s length sometimes, convinced that you deserve someone less complicated, someone who hasn’t been through what he has. but the more he tries to push you away, the more he finds himself drawn back to you. you have a way of breaking down his walls, and it terrifies him—because he wants you, but he also wants to protect you from him.

wade makes an effort to understand your college life, even if it’s wildly different from his world. he’ll attend your events, help with projects, and even try to keep up with your academic lingo (though it usually ends in a joke). “So, gpa stands for ‘great partner award,’ right? because you definitely deserve that.”

wade is constantly hyping you up, especially when you feel overwhelmed or unsure of yourself. “you’re the smartest, most badass person i know, and i know me. you’ve got this, kiddo.”

when you graduate, wade is your loudest, proudest supporter. he makes a huge deal out of it, throwing an over-the-top celebration just for you. “you did it, smarty-pants! now, can we frame your degree and put it in the bathroom? best reading material ever.”

despite his doubts and insecurities, wade’s love for you is clear in everything he does. from the way he kisses your forehead when you’re stressed to the ridiculous lengths he’ll go to make you smile, he’s all in—even if he sometimes worries he doesn’t deserve to be.

[hyperions-light]

A home in life, a berth in death, a house of many mansions: the Necropolis fucks

Before the game came out the Necropolis was one of the top five places I was hoping they would let us visit in Thedas and I'm so thrilled it did not disappoint! The architecture, the atmosphere is impeccable, the reactivity everywhere (cleansing the Vault of the Beloved, the secret room that appears, the skeleton workers that begin cleaning different areas as the game progresses), the detail in everything. Did you know that in the room where you get the codex entry about the flesh-eating beetles, you can look down and see them running across the floor? Love it!

But the environment itself is only an aspect of what makes the Necropolis so much fun; the insight we finally get into Nevarran culture is possibly the most important thing that comes out of it. The only Nevarran we've really met before was Cassie (love her, she was not very informative, though), so to actually get to meet people who serve as stewards to one of the most sacred cultural rites is incredible and exactly what I wanted from this game. I loved discovering their unique perspective on magic, and how they handle their Templar Order.

It's also a fascinating lore point to discover that Emmrich can speak to the dead; we've never actually encountered a REAL ghost in DA, I don't think. There have been things which appeared to be pieces of once-living people, but it could always be explained by 1) weird magic causing them to live past their normal lifespan 2) a spirit acting as a dead person. Emmrich makes a distinction between speaking with real dead people and imbuing a once-living body/articulated skeleton with a spirit. This is so cool and interesting! And they've been doing this consistently and regularly, to talk to the late King Markus! All the magic applications in this game make the South seem so boring lol (but that's for another post).

And I love that the Necropolis itself is considered alive by the Watchers! It moves and rearranges its own configuration in accordance with some sort of unknown will; is it partially built inside the Fade? Is it imbued with magical energies, like Arlathan was? How old is it? Is the reason it functions this way because it's so old that it predates the separation of the Fade from the material world, or is it just that the Veil is thin there? Are the Lichlords the ones directing the Necropolis? How? So many interesting implications and questions brought up by just the building itself!

I think my favorite thing about the Necropolis and the Watchers, though, is how they present death. Most of the cultures that we've encountered so far in Thedas view death as a universally negative thing, but the Nevarrans celebrate its place in the cycle of existence. In the gardens, which are such a beautiful, peaceful location, there's a puzzle you can do where you have to turn on a series of meditation bells in a specific order to get into a treasure room; when you put together the poetry accompanying each bell in the correctly, they describe (metaphorically) the movement of a person through life and into death. It's such a gorgeous little detail, and I love the way the Necropolis is designed to encourage the player to think about death (it also folds in so neatly to Emmrich's personal plotline!), especially since it is so integral to the game as a whole (yet another different post).

Visiting Blackthorne Manor and picking up mementos in the Necropolis shows that, this death positivity is, in fact, a pervasive cultural attitude. Nevarrans believe that they have a duty to each other that persists after they die; that the body can keep being useful; that the living should honor the dead. It's such an interesting perspective that was missing from the DA series; people die all the time, and, of course, it's intended to make the player sad, but DA has never seriously discussed death, its implications, what it truly means or how it affects those left behind. They've never really made you sit and look at it as the player. There are some sad lines after Leandra dies in DA2, but it's mostly in the narrative to give Hawke a reason to hate blood magic and stuff. There's no funeral. There's a few lines from Gamlen, Hawke, and your companions, and then the game moves on. It's always like that; the game gives you a moment to be sad, and then it moves on. There's no mourning. But this game is partially about mourning! It's about people being gone, and it being too late; it insists you look at death and deal with it, and the Necropolis is the epitome of this.

The game asks the question over and over what you think the characters should do in response to their own losses, and the Necropolis represents are really interesting, nuanced, answer to that question. They're not gone; they're right there. They're still with you. You can go and visit them and celebrate who they were in a place that honors and cares for them, still. It's so beautiful and interesting and full of love, for the living and the dead.

I didn't even talk about Emmrich's plotline or the class differences in the Necropolis, or how everyone there is a weird goth nerd and I love it so much, but I think that's really the important point: the symbiosis. The living; the dead; the spirits; the corporeal, all finding a way to be together.

[amethystwrytes]

Also doing this unsolicited bc I want to lol

1. What’s your current bias line?

Lee Minho, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin - but honestly lbr, it’s whoever I’m looking at at the moment 🥴

2. Who’s the one that made you stan?

Changbin, no question, and it was the “I’m so sensitive because I’m so hungry” clip that got me because same sweetie, same.

3. What song was your first?

The first SKZ song I ever heard in full was Gods Menu. And yes, I just wanted to see that part with Felix cookin’ like a chef lmao.

4. What’s your current favorite song?

Man, they’ve been killing it lately, but I’m still not over my little Chk Chk Boom moment.

5. What members personality resembles yours the most?

Minho, I’m pretty sure anyway.

6. If you had to pick a specific racha, which would you choose?

Ugh. I feel like 3Racha is the correct answer but my heart says DanceRacha 💃🏻❤️

7. Which attribute of the members do you like the most?

I mean, Changbins biceps, duh.

8. What’s your favorite album?

I’m going to be honest here and admit that navigating KPop albums is not my strongest suit - it’s a lot lol - but ATE has bops on bops on bops and is currently my fav.

9. Do you own any albums?

Nope. Lmao. Sorry🙃

10. Have you been to a concert?

Also no. I just really hate spending so much money on concert tickets these days just to go get knocked around, not be able to see, and get lost in the screams just to breathe the same air as my favorite artists. It’s a sensory/me issue 🤷‍♀️

11. Who’s your favorite duo?

Hyun…ho? Minjin? Hyunjin and Minho lmao

12. Favorite cover/solo song?

It’s not a straight up solo - but I do really like the song Drive.

13. Favorite SKZOO?

Leebit 🩷

14. If you had a day with one member what would you want to do with them?

I would want to cook with Minho, and just eat and watch movies and veg out on the couch all day. He could cook us up a meal and I could bake something sweet 🥰

15. Who’s your favorite singing voice?

Seungmin and Minho but honestly Han has a beautiful voice, so does Chan…fuck it… all of them lmao

16. Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

Hwang Hyunjin. With my sweet Minho coming in a close 2nd.

17. Do you have a favorite SKZ Code?

I’ve not seen them all, but I laugh every single time I see the clip of Seungmin losing it during flying yoga. Every single time 😂

18. Favorite MV?

Hmm. I really couldn’t pick so I’ll say Gods Menu since that’s the first one I ever saw and a girls first time is special 😂

19. Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

Probably Minho or Hyunjin tbh

20. Let’s feed those delusions, who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

I’m picking Lee Minho and we’re staying in on a chilly day and watching movies and cuddling.

.·:*¨ 𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 ¨*:·.

20 Questions for my fellow Stays!

Making a little tag game because I love them and I’m nosy tbh. I also just love interacting with yall!

1: What’s your current bias line?

2: Who’s the one that made you Stan?

3: What song was your first?

4: What’s your current favorite song?

5: What members personally resembles yours the most?

6: If you had to pick a specific racha which would you choose?

7: What’s one attribute of the members do you like the most? (Example: Chans dimples)

8: What’s your favorite album?

9: Do you have any albums?

10: Have you been to a concert?

11: Who’s your favorite duo?

12: Favorite cover/solo songs:

13: Favorite SKZOO?

14: If you had a day with one member what would you wanna do with them?

15: Who’s your favorite singing voice?

16: Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

17: Do you have a favorite SKZ Code?

18: Favorite MV?

19: Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

20: Let’s feed those delusions, Who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

[writingfics-passingtime]

Bucky and queen song

Waving Your Banner

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: We Will Rock You - Queen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (flirtatious, no pronouns used)

Word Count: ~1300

CW: swearing, some flirting, suggestive jokes, a bit of tickling

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a flirtatious/suggestive interaction between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

Note: Thanks, anon! My initial note-to-self from when you first sent this was, verbatim, "okay but dodgeball would be fucken hilarious with we will rock you" - so we've gone with an Avengers training game vibe with this one

The woods hummed with tension, broken by the occasional crack of a branch or the muffled thud of boots. The Avengers had turned what should’ve been a simple training game into an all-out war, and your team was desperate to gain the upper hand. Somewhere ahead, in the shadow of the tree-line, stood the final obstacle: Bucky Barnes, silent, brooding, and lethal, guarding his team’s flag, the White Wolf circling his den.

You crouched beside Sam behind a cluster of bushes, your pulse steady but sharp as you surveyed the terrain. Bucky was right where you expected him, leaning casually against a tree just outside the flag's perimeter. He looked calm, detached even, but you knew better. The slightest flicker of movement would set him in motion, and if he was after you, there’d be no escaping. Flag perimeters were a no-fly-zone, so you and Sam would have to take it on foot.

“Alright,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “We need a plan. And by we, I mean you, because I’m not getting anywhere near the Winter Soldier.”

You shot him an incredulous look. “You’re faster than me.”

“He’s a wall. A brick wall with trust issues and superhuman reflexes.”

You sighed, pressing your back against the thick trunk of a tree. “Then we need a distraction. Something that’ll actually make him move.”

Sam raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’s your genius plan?”

“You,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “You could bait him. Taunt him. Goad him into leaving his post.”

“And get steamrolled by the murder machine? Hard pass.” He scoffed. "Besides, you’re obviously better bait.”

The heat rushed to your face immediately. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” Sam teased, his grin widening. “You’ve got that whole… thing going on.”

“What thing?”

He waved a hand vaguely at you. “You know. The whole ‘badass with a secret soft side’ thing. He’ll eat it up. Hell, I think the whole team’s noticed the way he looks at you.”

You glared at him. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

“He does,” Sam interrupted, revelling in your reaction. “Come on, you could probably get him to do whatever you wanted. Just say something like, ‘Oh, Bucky, is that a vibranium arm or are you just happy to see m-”

You shoved him into the bush.

Sam tried to silence his little grunts as he pulled himself out, yanking the twigs from his armour plates. “Fine. You wanna argue about this all day, or should we win?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just send in Redwing.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

The plan was simple enough: Redwing would create a distraction in a bush behind Bucky, luring him away from the flag, giving you and Sam time to move in and grab it. You moved carefully, keeping low as you crept through the underbrush. The tension in the air was electric, every rustle of leaves amplified by your own awareness of how close Bucky was.

But, true to form, Sam couldn’t resist screwing with you.

As you crept closer to the clearing, Redwing darted toward you and made a ruckus in the bush partially shielding you from view. It was more than enough to give you away, and before you could even curse Sam’s name, you heard it - the unmistakable sound of boots crunching leaves, closing in fast.

Your head whipped around just in time to see Bucky moving toward you with the kind of speed that made your heart stutter. His expression was sharp, predatory, and - gods help you - just a little amused.

“Shit,” you muttered, bolting from your hiding spot.

“Running won’t help you,” Bucky called after you, his voice dark and smooth, laced with amusement.

You didn’t bother responding, too focused on dodging tree trunks and low-hanging branches. But it didn’t matter how fast you ran; he was faster. In seconds, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you clean off your feet.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low in your ear.

“Not yet, you don’t,” you growled, twisting sharply in his grip.

You elbowed him in the side, breaking free for a split second, but he was faster. He blocked your next move, his vibranium hand catching your wrist and spinning you around. You didn’t go down without a fight, aiming a kick at his shin and struggling against his hold, refusing to make it easy for him.

“Feisty,” he muttered, almost admiringly, his grip tightening as you wrestled.

You managed to get one arm free, landing a half-decent shove against his chest. He staggered back slightly but recovered in less than an instant, his smirk returning, sharper than before.

“Alright,” he said, his voice edged with amusement, “you wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.”

Before you could react, he was on you, trapping you between his body and the wide trunk of a tree. His fingers darted to your ribs, pressing against your sides with infuriating precision.

You jolted, a startled laugh bursting out before you could stop it. “What the fu- hey! No, that’s cheating!”

“Cheating?” he echoed, his grin widening as he tickled you again, this time catching your waist. “You’re the one trying to fight dirty.”

You squirmed, trying to slap his hands away, but the tickling was relentless, and your traitorous laughter left you weak, your arms useless.

“No! I- dammit, Barnes!”

Seizing the moment, he stepped back, grabbed both your wrists and yanked you against him, hauling you effortlessly over his shoulder. You kicked your legs in protest, but his grip was unyielding, his hand steady against the backs of your thighs.

“Put me down!” you demanded, pounding your fists against his unfairly muscled back.

“Not until you’re in jail,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” you grumbled, your cheeks burning as you felt his arm tighten around your thighs.

He chuckled, the sound warm and agonising. “Unusual, maybe. But I’d say you’re enjoying it.”

“Barnes!” you snapped, squirming harder.

His laughter deepened, and he carried you with an ease that was both infuriating and maddeningly attractive. When he finally stopped, he set you down just outside the jail, his hands lingering at your waist.

“Let me go,” you said, though the bite in your tone had softened.

He stepped closer, his body a looming presence as his eyes bore into yours. “Say please.”

You scowled, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Didn’t think so,” he said, his smirk widening as he stepped forward, forcing you to step back - straight into the jail’s boundary.

You glared at him, your chest heaving as he stood just inches away, his gaze dark and intent. “Happy now?”

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “but close.”

Before you could fire back, Sam’s triumphant whoop echoed through the trees. You turned just in time to see him flying above your team's base with Bucky's team's flag, waving it over his head like a trophy.

Bucky groaned, his head falling back briefly before he levelled a sharp glare at you. “Distraction,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, the word practically dripping with accusation.

Your lips curved into a coy smile despite yourself.

“You’re too damn good at it,” he said, his tone darker now, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and stalked off.

Flushed, you called after him. "This isn't over, Barnes!"

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, turning to face you as he walked backwards towards his next mission. "Not by a long shot."

[strawberrypinky]

WIP Wednesday

Since I'm still squabbling away at Chapter Four or, as it's called, obsidian kingdom (ooh, spoiler), I've decided to be nice and share a little snippet below the cut.

Special thanks to @heyitszev @awkwardengland and @gufu-vire for all the love you have given my silly little fic. You don't understand how much that means to me 🤍

"You do realise you can't avoid speaking to me forever."

"Fuck you, Gortash," she replied with a hiss, not meeting his eyes.

Enver clenched his jaw, irritated. "Is that all you'll say to me for the rest of time?"

"It would be more than you deserve," she spat out, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"More than I deserve ?" He chuckled, the sound threatening to even his own ears. "My sweet little wife, I deserve everything because I worked tirelessly for it."

She finally whipped her head around, furiously wild green meeting his eerie brown. He could glimpse her fingertips crackling with wisps of magic, though she seemed to scarcely hold it in. "Worked for it?" she repeated. "You are condemning this world to a fate worse than death, and yet you decide to waste your time by forcing my hand and for what ? You did not work for anything, Gortash. What little you have, you got because you sucked up to your sick god."

He snapped before he could truly control it, his hand whacking out and grabbing her face between his gauntleted hand, the golden metal digging into Elodie's cheeks as she glared at him intently. Abounding fury burned through his veins, eating at his soul as scaldingly hot as the fires of the Hells had been. Perhaps they had left a greater mark on him after all, for all of it came easy to him - he was born of hatred, forged and moulded in it.

"I am the Chosen of Bane," he pressed out. "You have no idea how hard I've had to work to get to my station."

"Get the fuck off me, Gortash," she only hissed in response. "Or I'll make you regret it."

He laughed in response, the sound dark and threatening as it echoed in the carriage, but he let her go. Perhaps a small part of him was frightened of her after all, for she was small but mighty beyond what he had expected or anticipated. He would not risk injury when success was so certain. She would be unable to turn her magic against him the second they were bound in the eyes of his Lord, forever allied. Forever his . His Lord's dread tingled in him, delightfully spreading to each part, and Enver fought to rein it in. Each second he had to wait for the grand finale of his destiny was torture, the anticipation palpable in the air. He could espy the spires of his estate coming into view, the lights brightly illuminating the path up the cobbled drive to his home as they always had. And yet, it felt different and paradoxically the same as the carriage entered the Gates and the horses trotted up to his home. The air felt different, laden with eldritch enmity and anticipatory tension as the newlyweds disembarked the carriage and stood outside their matrimonial home. Enver observed Elodie as she stood in front of the door, taking in the walls in the dim lighting of the lanterns, bare of any agrestal botany like she was used to from her childhood home.

She kept silent, though she turned up her nose in slight distaste, shivering as the cool winds of the night kissed her skin. Enver gently pushed her towards the entryway, the doors opening to reveal the grand foyer to Elodie's eyes for the first time. He watched as she glanced around, the wrought iron chandelier and flickering candles casting intricate shadows from the high ceiling they hung upon. Her blush gown was a strange contrast against the polished black marble floors, veins of green reflecting in the dim glow, the cool air carrying the faint scent of incense and old stone. Not a single soul had greeted them, the sweeping staircases with bannisters of ebony and emerald-carpeted steps void of Enver's usual staff. He supposed they had all gathered in the chapel below, awaiting them for the crescendo of a five-year pursuit and thus the single company they had was each other, and the statues of Bane and his gauntleted hand standing in alcoves, the towering stained-glass window on the far wall depicting a vivid scene of his Lord's glorious return; the vibrant greens fractured into the air.

[thybirbman]

Sorry but I'm gonna ignore half the post bc I read the first two paragraphs and now can't think about anything else, so you're getting me trying to logic religion instead of Tobi!Kakashi (tho I will say I saw a fic once with the Obito-Kakashi role reversal where they had it that Kakashi was pretending to be Tobirama rather than Madara bc of the hair and smarts and it even fits with the Tobi nickname! It was amazing, don't remember it tho, so sorry.)

Anyway! Here are my Hatake religion thoughts, presented as facts rather than just my headcanons bc I love writing fake facts:

The Hatake do worship multiple gods/vague spirits of the land rather than one specific god, but like a typical pantheon religion where there's a buncha gods, but then there's the one special favorite guy that's in charge of everyone, and to the Hatake, that's Kaguya. Yeah, they worship the gods of plants and harvest and whoever brings the rain, but the Hatake are wolves first, farmers second, so Kaguya, the goddess of rabbits (aka usually the first thing a young cub gets to catch on their first hunt, something something a symbol of coming into their own and becoming their own person as well as a sign of good things to come and that they'll be powerful enough to live by themselves, just lots of good meanings to the Hatake) that also resides on the moon, is their special lil gal.

The Hatake's beliefs are kind of... vague? They don't really have a set mythology, or they didn't in the beginning, because they used to be a bunch of small vaguely connected family units all over the Land of Iron just doing their thing, but they slowly got whittled down to the few that are now left. And each of those units had their own spin on things, ranging from Kaguya being their sworn enemy who was cursed into a rabbit so they could hunt her for all eternity, to more positive stories of Kaguya either always being a rabbit, inventing the concept of rabbits in the first place, or willingly transforming into a rabbit permanently to be hunted by the Hatake for all eternity as a kind of game. (aka go with whatever suits the story, you want bad Kaguya where the Hatake were systematically wiped out by Zetsu bc those fuckers were literally engineered in a fucking lab by God to be perfect Kaguya killers? Want good Kaguya where Sakumo and Kaguya get to be freaky together and have Kakashi be a half god? Whatever works for you!)

Most of them, however, end with Kaguya either returning to her home on the moon right before dawn breaks or being sealed away on the moon by mean people who don't want the Hatake to have their fun ritual hunting game. Very sad. It's a tradition to not eat the first rabbit you ever catch, and instead wait for nightfall before holding it up to the open sky and then burying the thing in the dirt under the moonlight, to show Kaguya that they still remember their old hunts and that no earth rabbit will ever be as great a catch as her. Unless you were part of those guys that didn't like Kaguya, wherein you would wait with your first ever rabbit til nightfall before absolutely ripping that thing to pieces and eating it's heart raw while glaring up at the moon. And then go pray and apologize to Tsukuyomi for glaring at them (the moon).

Back when Kakashi was a kid, Sakumo always burried any rabbits he got, which was kind of extreme when usually it's just the first rabbit you ever kill. Sakumo's only explanation was that they'd never be as good as the first rabbit he caught, and it would be an insult to that first rabbit for him to ever try another.

(Picturing shittily drawn Kakashi frowning down at a scraggly rabbit in a dirt hole thinking damn must have been one good rabbit, rabbits don't even taste that good, meanwhile in the background in full renaissance style oil paint Sakumo is just on his knees absolutely sobbing his heart out at the moon)

Concept of the Hatake, as a wolf clan, worshipping Tsukuyomi, the moon god, as their god. Alternatively: it'd be incredibly funny and ironic if you leaned into Kaguya-hime as a moon rabbit, being worshipped by a wolf clan.

I have no specific thoughts (yet) bc I also love the idea of the Hatake not worshipping any one god but instead honoring just the vague spirits of the land (leaning into them as farmers) but like. Where's my "The Hatake worship Kaguya-hime" AU where things get really awkward when it becomes clear she's kind of trying to blow up the world or whatever from her prison in the moon.

Zetsu goes to a young Kakashi or Sakumo or smthn for help with freeing his mother bc the Hatake's have worshipped her for so long, so surely they'd help

Or if you have one of those role swap Kakashi and Obito aus, add a bit of flavor to differentiate between the villain, brainwashed, Akatsuki, Madara-impersonator Obito-- with brainwashed, Akatsuki, Kaguya-hime worshipper Kakashi, helping Zetsu, potentially with full knowledge of the eye of the moon plan bc he genuinely wants to free Kaguya.

In an AU like that, maybe Zetsu would be more open with him in general too, like, they share the same genuine goal, and also potentially the love for Kaguya. So I can see Zetsu maybe opening up to him a lot more than he would if he were fr just a puppet. At the very least, they could commiserate about "poor" Kaguya hime, trapped in the moon.

I just think it'd be interesting

[rottingcompost]

born to love carrot cake, forced to live in a world where everyone hates carrot cake

[hazel2468]

I'm feeling salty so I'm just gonna say-

If you can't handle the idea of feeding live prey to something.

Do not get a pet. That requires you. To feed it live fucking prey. There are SO MANY OTHER OPTIONS!

Also don't be that fucking weirdo who goes on other people's socials and bitches about how it's "inhumane" or "gross". They'd be doing it out in the wild. It's a little something called nature. And no, you cannot find an "alternative" for your mantis.

It's a MANTIS. It is like. One of the most famous predatory insects. It is infamous for eating its prey alive.

If you're going to be a little baby about feeding live prey. Then get a pet that doesn't need that. And shut the fuck up.

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

"That's fascinating," Antonio said, "I did do some research on the typical cat Sidhe. Of course, I don't seem to be one. They seem to be drawn to warmth, perhaps because the cold slows them down."

Or in his case, makes him feel tired. He had lost count of how many times he had almost passed on public transport in the Winter just because it got so cold.

"Causing a little mischief is a good sign," Antonio said, "I think it means you're starting to at least feel a little better. I'm just glad we were able to stop fighting among ourselves in the end. We even got to laugh together for a moment."

A moment to relax while nothing was happening to them, so to speak. There was that sympathy in his green eyes.

"Maybe after all of this is over, perhaps we could all just sit down for a meal. I am aware Bill can't seem to eat normal food, but I feel he would still enjoy it for the company," Antonio added, "I will admit, I have missed the idea of it myself. Well, I mainly just enjoyed family dinners when my Nonno was there."

And he couldn't really remember the last time he had a meal with company. It had been that long.

"Then I think that can be arranged. We gather for some meal of sorts. A breakfast, lunch, or a dinner, sometime when this is all over," Antonio said. It would be nice to cook for people again, and actually have company, "What do you reckon?"

He frowned a bit at that. Antonio still had his regrets over letting that thing in his body and acting the way he did.

"To be honest, I have no hard feelings for him. I was angry when he first tried to control me, but he has changed," Antonio said, "And I was not acting in my own best interests when I attacked him in his shop. It does not change the fact that I allowed myself to become corrupted by that force in the first place. I am also glad we can still get along despite what I did."

But then he looked curious.

"Your father? You believe he might have something to do with this? Do you need me to go with you? I know it can be daunting to confront a parent alone, especially if he might be sending people to attack your friends."

"Oh, it's actually the opposite for me. It's like that for all of us, actually. Our powers basically renew every Winter Solstice." Rook explained, "I should start feeling a bit a few days before my birthday."

She was looking forward to that more than usual with everything that was going on. Hopefully, they would figure this mess out before the stress of organizing the celebrations added itself to the rest.

"Well, I couldn't resist." Rook replied with a grin, "And it was the only nice moment of that shitty evening. I think that and this breakfast are the only nice notes in this whole mess...the company too."

Rook's wings twitched at that, betraying her apprehension towards the situation. It was difficult to keep up the brave act while those she cared about were getting hurt or fighting each other.

"I know I miss sitting at the table with others. Mum hangs around sometimes, but she can't eat." She set the phone down once both messages were sent and eagerly dug in. "Well, Lucien wouldn't say no to that. He loves getting spoiled."

She clearly didn't mind either. Rook wasn't lying about having more of an appetite.

"I'm glad you two are getting along, though. There's enough going on with those weirdos who are after us as is... Which brings me to the next suspect on my list."

There was another twitch as Rook looked up.

"It might be a good time to check on my dad."