#I LOVE combining things than make me explode

[sb-is-a-thing]

V1 and his fucked up exploding cat

[suempu]

Looooving the Laios content!!!! If you have any nsfw headcanons for him we would love to hear those too👀

<3 i tried to keep it as gn as possible. reader is on the receiving end

laios wouldn’t really be interested in sexual things unless you ask him about it.

getting intimate with him would have to happen at random or unplanned.

he’s really just content with kissing and hugging you, he’s never once thought of sex. one kiss is enough to get him so high and happy.

please makeout with this man, it gets him going. he loves your lips, the way you hum into his mouth, and the gentle caresses you leave on his arm while you do.

your first makeout session gets him hard. normally, you two only exchange sweet kisses and touches, so he was shocked when you decided to crawl over his lap to hold his face better.

his mind explodes from there.

he’s a whimperer, please guys agree with me on this. a lot of quiet gasps and surprised voice cracks are gonna come out of him.

“mmf… nghh… mMph-!”

he loves it when you tug on his hair, when your fingers dig into his roots and firmly pulling it back while you grind down at him.

laios likes putting his hands around your body, he embraces you while moaning into your mouth, eager for more of your taste.

dont get me started with the whole “taste” thing.

this man loves to eat, we all know that. but he loves to eat you.

the first time is awkward, as he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch you and he’s quite hesitant.

“i just… don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“laios, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it, okay?

you’re both learning each other’s bodies, and after much reassurance he leans in and nips at your neck.

he’s a… mouthy person. loves sucking on your skin, biting your ear (gently of course), moaning into your shoulder. one thing he loves to do, which isn’t inherently sexual, is to wrap his arms around you while nosing and kissing the skin between your jaw to your shoulder.

he trails his lips all over you, making you giggle and moan at the same time. he just likes feeling you out tbh

laios is def girthy, nothing extreme, just a bit thicker than you’d realize. he’s kind of shy at first, no one has ever seen him like this so he doesn’t know if he’s considered “sexy” or attractive

until now, he paid no mind to his body, didn’t care if people found him hot or anything, but he’s suddenly embarrassed when its you.

“i-is it good enough…?”

“you’re literally bigger than 4 of my fingers combined.”

but yes, please praise this man. tell him you love him and that he’s beautiful.

laios eats up the praise, he has a dopey smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. he loves knowing that he can satisfy you, it makes him feel fulfilled.

once you actually get to it, his body was trembling from the heat and warmth. he moans shakily while nuzzling his face into your hair, murmuring about how good you feel and how much he loves you.

he’s really loud. he’ll moan in your ear with no hesitation and you tease him about it afterwards.

aftercare with him is comfy and cozy. you both are spent as you cuddle into each other, basking in the afterglow.

he has such a loving gaze, he looks so much like a big puppy that it makes your heart melt.

“that… was really good.” he sighs, lips nuzzled into your hair. pulling back from his chest, you rub his cheeks as you relax into the pillows, staring up at him with a smug face. “i can tell. with the way you came after 10 seconds.”

“please don’t.” he groans.

don’t worry, after a few times he will memorize all the sensitive spots in your body and get you to cum a thousand more.

laios has good stamina and he can go for at least 2 or 3 more rounds. if you’re too tired, he’ll use his remaining energy to carry you to the bathroom and wash you both off.

will unintentionally get hard while he’s cleaning you, so please forgive him for that. he’s just really attracted to you lmao

“next time maybe you can try pulling my hair.” you lean back against his chest in the tub. “or maybe a tug?”

“i don’t know… i wouldn’t wanna accidentally hurt you.”

“……”

“…”

“laios are you hard right now?”

“i’m sorry.”

after that, you both will have a relaxing routine of drying each other’s hair and brushing your teeth before sleeping.

laios is eager to learn more about your body and he’s genuinely excited to figure out what gets you going. 100/10 lover, he can’t wait to go again.

[monstersflashlight]

Ohhh, maybe something with sugar daddy minotaur? Started with money end on the bed then the minotaur get so clingy with us, claim to be more then sugar daddy because our squirt 🥺

I feel so hot request something like this ahhh-

Minotaur daddy

Minotaur x fem!reader || daddy kink, squirting, praise kink, oral sex, super fluffy fluff

When he reached to you through your social media to be your daddy, you thought it was a stupid bot once again, but you answered to see what kind of crazy offer he had to give you. It was funny at first, just checking if he was a bot. But in less than thirty minutes there was an amazing sum in your bank account and you had a date and a contract set with the most handsome minotaur you’ve ever met.

Your first date was amazing, soft and quiet and he indulged you in everything you liked. You fell a tiny bit in love with him that day, but your relationship was purely transactional. Or so you thought.

You fooled around a couple times, but he never got his pants down. He pleasured you over and over, but never taking care of himself. He insisted it was all for you, that you were the focus of that relationship, money or not. So it worked great for you, you got his soft big tongue ravishing your pussy and money for it. You were completely fine with it…

But the reality is that you weren’t. Not at all. You wanted more, so much more. He gave you the best orgasms of your life, allowed you to pay for your living and indulged on your stupid craving. He took you out, dressed you with fancy clothes and paraded you around like the most precious thing he had. And that was great. But you wanted more, so much more. You wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you into oblivion. You wanted him to want you… But you didn’t know how to tell him that. How to act on your feelings. You didn’t even know if he wanted you that way.

The only thing you knew is that he fucking loved eating you out until you were a mess.

You were whiting against the sheets of his fancy penthouse. “Please, daddy…” You came three times already, your pussy so tender and overstimulated you didn’t know if you could go more.

“One more, babe. Gimme one more and I’ll stop,” he always promised that. He always said he wanted one more and you ended up soaking his face and clenching so hard on his fingers he would whine and tell you how fucking amazing your pussy was.

“I don’t know if I can,” you told him. Someplace inside of you, you knew there was at least one more inside of you, but it felt different this time.

He always ate you out incredibly well, but for some reason the combination of his fingers and his rough tongue were hitting something different inside of you. It was like you were on the edge of the most amazing thing was at arm reach but you couldn’t get to it. Not quite. Not yet. Your need to be a good girl was above your need for him to stop.

“Of course you can, babe. Do it for me. Come for daddy one more time,” he coached. His words felt hot and bothered against your pussy, his lips engulfing half of your pussy at once, lapping and sucking as he pressed against your G-spot over and over. His clever fingers giving your insides a massage that was driving you into insanity.

But you didn’t know if you could do it. It was so close but so far away at the same time. You grabbed his horns and rose your hips to meet his eager tongue once again, trying to reach that part of you that wanted to break under him, that part of you that wanted to be pliant, perfect for him. He chuckled at your eagerness and resumed his activities, his big tongue playing with your clit softly but intently, the way you liked. His fingers inside of you rubbing circles in the most awesome way. Your eyes were closed as you panted, pulling at his horns until he whimpered against your flesh, making you feel even better.

And then you felt something inside of you break down, like he destroyed some kind of dam and you were exploding into a million pieces.

You squirted for the first time ever over his surprised face as he pulled his face back but kept rubbing over your G-spot. You came, and came, and came until you felt you were losing your mind and your brain was melting inside your head. It was the most extreme feeling you’ve ever felt and the most amazing, too.

When you came down, still panting, he pulled you to him, your body wrapped around his as he caressed your naked back. “You did amazing, pretty girl. So good for your daddy.” You blushed at his words, like you always did. There was something special about him praising you, you never thought you had a praise kink, but he helped you discover a lot of things about yourself… Like you could squirt.

“I didn’t know I could do that, daddy,” you confessed. You tried not to sound too shy, but the fact that his furry face was still damp with your release and he was smiling at you like you held the light of the universe was doing things to your insides.

“You did great, you are perfect. My perfect pretty girl,” he caressed your face and pulled you up. Your mouths collided into a frantic kiss that left you breathless. He parted ways and said: “I think I’m going to keep you,” he whispered, making you shiver and look at him confused.

“What?” That couldn’t mean what you thought it meant. Right?

“I want you to be more than my sugar baby,” he responded, your heart doing crazy shit inside your chest as the butterflies inside your stomach flew around frantically.

“What are you saying? Do you want… more?” You asked, wanting to be sure of it.

“Of course I want more. I didn’t know how to say it because I thought you wouldn’t want an old bull like me. But you coming like that, for me… That was too much, babe. I need you like I need air. And I would need a repetition of that at least once a day for the rest of our lives. I… I love you.” The softness in his tone mixed with the way he was looking at you, your heart was beating like crazy in your chest and you thought you were about to implode with happiness.

“Are you for real, don’t joke with me. Because I love being your sugar baby but I kind of… love you, too,” you confessed. The happiness in his eyes was answer enough. You launched for his mouth, and you felt like everything was right with the world again. Like there was hope in the future. “But I’m still going to want pretty dresses,” you joked when you broke apart.

“Of course, pretty girl. Everything you want.” You smiled down at him and kissed him again until your bodies were melting into one.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis

[waitimcomingtoo]

This Means War

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you

Masterlist

“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.

“I don’t know. You should try it.”

“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”

“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”

“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.

“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”

“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”

“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.

“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“

“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.

“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.

“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.

“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.

“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.

“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.

“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.

“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.

“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.

“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.

“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.

“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.

“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.

“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.

“I’m not short.” Peter defended. “I’m the average height of a woman.”

“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”

“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.

“Sands?” Peter asked you.

“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.

“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”

“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.

“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.

“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.

“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.

“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”

Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.

“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“

“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.

“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”

“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.

“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.

“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.

“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.

“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.

“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.

“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.

“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.

“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.

“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”

“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.

“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”

“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”

“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”

“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.

“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”

“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.

“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.

“So, did you and Harry-“

“Harley.” You corrected.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”

You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.

“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.

“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”

“Like like like?” You teased him.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.

“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”

“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.

“Why do you ask?” You wondered.

“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”

“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”

“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.

“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”

“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.

“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.

“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.

“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.

“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.

“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.

“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.

“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.

“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.

“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.

“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”

“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.

“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.

“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.

“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”

“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”

Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.

“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.

“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.

“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.

“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.

“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.

“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”

“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”

“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”

“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.

“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.

“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.

“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”

“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.

“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”

“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”

“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.

“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.

“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.

“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.

“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.

“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.

“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.

“I said nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.

“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”

Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.

“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.

“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.

“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”

“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”

“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.

“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.

“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.

“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”

“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”

“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.

“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”

“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.

“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.

“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.

“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.

“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”

“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.

“A little.” Harley shrugged.

“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.

“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.

“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.

“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.

“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.

“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.

“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”

“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.

“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.

Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.

“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.

“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.

“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.

“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.

“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.

“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”

“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.

“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.

“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”

“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”

“Well, let me hear it.”

“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.

“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.

“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.

“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“

“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.

“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.

“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”

“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.

“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.

“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”

“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.

“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re here to sing to me-“

“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.

“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.

“I know that.” Peter said quietly.

“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.

“So have I.” Peter told him.

“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.

“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.

“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”

Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.

“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.

“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She never mentioned that.”

“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”

“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.

“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.

“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?

“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.

“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.

“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.

“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”

“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.

“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”

“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.

“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.

“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.

“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.

“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.

“I don’t even understand what that-“

“Me either.” Peter cut him off.

After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.

“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.

“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.

“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.

“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.

“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.

“I really do miss you.” He told you.

“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”

“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”

“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.

“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.

“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.

“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”

“So did I.” You admitted.

“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.

“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.

“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”

“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”

“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.

“We’ll see.” He laughed.

Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.

“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.

“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.

“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.

“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”

“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”

“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.

“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.

“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.

“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.

“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.

“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.

“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.

“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”

“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.

“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.

“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.

“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.

“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.

“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.

“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.

“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.

“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”

“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.

“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.

“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.

“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[itsclydebitches]

By this point we’ve all seen a hundred “Lucy had a crush on Cooper Howard and doesn’t realize he’s the Ghoul” takes (which feed me during the hiatus, thanks), but just for the lols I’d love to see the reversal: Lucy hates this guy.

Cooper Howard is her personal White Whale. Lucy hate-watches his films and nit-picks every scene like someone is paying her caps to do it. Whatever the opposite of a blorbo is, that’s Cooper. She woke up one day and chose violence against this 200 years dead actor in particular… but, you know, in a PR approved, Vaultie kind of way. Why the hate? Who knows. Probably a combination of her dad showing her Cooper’s debut film right when she hit that tween age where liking what your parents like is soul crushing and the fact that if she didn’t have this emotional outlet she’d probably explode. It’s the one (1) thing goody-goody Lucy is irrational about and Norm takes endless pleasure in it.

So she’s traveling with the Ghoul, right? Not a whole lot to do while traversing the Wasteland, especially when your companion is blatantly ignoring you and the pip-boy isn’t picking up any radio signals. So when Lucy is able to open that wound again she starts talking about her dad. The books he liked. Jokes he told over dinner. His favorite pair of socks. Silly, inconsequential things that don’t touch on the weight of his betrayal.

Eventually, Lucy talks about the movies they used to watch.

Eventually, Lucy is comfortable enough—and bored enough—to segue into epic rants about Cooper Fudging Howard. For hours. Nothing escapes her passive aggressive, couched-as-constructive-criticism bitching. Not his acting (“Really, he’d benefit from learning a gesture other than sticking his hands in his belt”), not his looks (“Who decided to put him in those pants in Master of the Ranch? Although, Dad says Howard is the one who requested them…”), not even his unintentional impact on the family (“I swear if Dad makes me watch A Man and His Dog one more time…”).

All the while Cooper is walking a few paces ahead. Seemingly stoic.

Actually losing it.

What’s he even supposed to do in this situation?? He hates himself, but not like that. Cooper doesn’t have any desire to talk to Vaultie (that’s a lie. He’s good at lying to himself), but suddenly he wants to turn around, finger held aloft in the air (hers), and correct everything coming out of her mouth—whether he truly disagrees or not. Hands-in-belt is a classic cowboy pose. He loved those pants.

Cooper is Struggling™ and they haven’t even hit the strip yet.

Bonus points: Somewhere along the line they get together and Cooper starts angsting over whether Lucy will leave him. Not because of the radiation damage, or the murder, or the cannibalism, but because if she ever finds out he’s Cooper Howard she’ll absolutely abandon ship. Or kill him. Either option seems likely at this point.

Lucy: Are you ever going to tell me your name? Cooper, literally in bed with Lucy post-coitus: …That’s a little personal, sweetheart

[solxamber]

Maybe a request where reader had a potion class accident with grim and idia as partners for it, and turned into a cat for a temporary amount of time due to a mishap?

I just think it sounds like idia would 100% milk this for all its worth cuz an event has occurred involving cats...

and i think grim being around with reader and idia would infact add to the cat meter, sounds amusing to me at least

Stay safe have a good day your writin is great :]

Mishaps and Kitty Cats - Idia x reader

love this request, combined 2 of my favorite things- cats and idia

Potionology wasn’t exactly a class you thrived in, but how hard could it be? You just mix some ingredients together, follow the instructions (mostly), and hope Grim doesn’t knock something over. Easy enough, right?

That was your first mistake.

The second? Teaming up with Idia and Grim.

Idia, hunched over his tablet, was busy calculating potion probabilities or something nerdy, while Grim was... being Grim. Pawing at random ingredients, making snide comments, and generally being more of a hindrance than any helpful mascot should ever be.

“I’m telling ya, we don’t need all these fancy-schmancy ingredients!” Grim huffed, flicking his tail dismissively. “Just throw in some catnip and call it a day!”

Idia, not even bothering to look up, mumbled, “Uh, no. That’ll throw off the potion’s balance and potentially, like, destroy the entire lab. But, yeah, sure, go ahead. I’ll just be over here doing the actual calculations.”

"Catnip," you muttered, shooting Grim a sideways glance. "Right. Because that's the missing key to magical success."

Grim puffed out his chest, as if the sheer confidence would make up for his utter lack of sense. "You mock, but I know what's what."

You sighed. Maybe pairing with the guy obsessed with cats and the guy obsessed with numbers wasn’t the best move. “Idia, are you sure you’ve got this under control?”

“I’ve got this down to a 96.8% success rate,” Idia said, tapping away on his tablet with the fervor of someone far too invested in digital alchemy. “The probability of anything going wrong is, like, practically nonexistent.”

You peered into the cauldron. It was bubbling ominously, more like it was contemplating murder than mixing into a helpful potion. “And the other 3.2%?”

“Well... worst-case scenario, you might end up as a squirrel. Temporarily. Maybe.”

Before you could even process what he just said, Grim—bless his chaotic little heart—decided to tip over a vial of glowing green liquid into the cauldron. “Oops.”

There was a brief, deadly silence. Then a whoosh of bright smoke exploded from the cauldron, enveloping you, Grim, and Idia in a thick, magical fog.

Coughing, you blinked through the haze. Everything seemed bigger, or maybe you were smaller. And then you noticed Grim staring at you with wide eyes, mouth hanging open.

“What?” you asked—or, at least, you tried to ask. What came out instead was a small, pitiful meow.

Grim blinked. Twice. “Nya?!”

Idia finally looked up from his tablet, and when he saw you, a grin spread across his face so wide it looked like he had just won the rarest item drop of his life. "Oh. My. Gods."

You stared at him, then down at your—oh no. Oh no no no. You had fur. You had paws. Your tail lashed back and forth as panic began to settle in. "I’m a cat?!"

"This. Is. Amazing!" Idia was practically vibrating with excitement, not at all concerned about your current feline predicament. "This is like, peak event status. You turned into a cat! This is exactly like that one episode of 'Magical Meow-taku no Monogatari' where the protagonist gets cursed and—"

Grim cut in, his tone somewhere between horror and indignation. “Nyaaa, wait a minute! I’m supposed to be the only talking cat here! This is outrageous!” His fur bristled as he looked between you and Idia, clearly not enjoying this turn of events.

You tried to hiss at Grim, but all that came out was a squeaky mewl. Great. Even your protests were adorable.

Idia, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Oh man, this is like, prime meme content. We need to document this! Hold on, I’m sending a message to the dorm chat.”

You swatted at his leg with a paw, trying to stop him, but your efforts were in vain. He was already furiously typing into his tablet.

“‘So, uh, our partner just turned into a cat lol. 10/10, would pet again.’ There, sent,” Idia said, looking way too pleased with himself. He looked down at you, his expression downright giddy. “You don’t even understand how happy this makes me. A real-life cat transformation! This is like, a rare gacha pull, but better. Because it’s you. As a cat.”

Grim groaned dramatically, throwing his paws up. “Unbelievable! I can’t believe this is happening! Now there’s two of you! This was supposed to be my thing!” He shot a glare your way. “You better fix this fast, or I’ll never live it down.”

You tried to roll your eyes—well, as much as a cat could roll their eyes—and sat down, tail flicking impatiently. You’d really like to be human again, thanks.

But Idia wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“You know,” he said, voice taking on a thoughtful tone, “I could, theoretically, keep you like this for a while. I mean, think of the content. We could have a whole cat-themed channel. Imagine it: ‘Cat Adventures with the Prefect and Grim!’ You could be a streaming sensation!”

Your wide-eyed, horrified stare was lost on him as he started muttering to himself about potential subscriber counts and fan art. Grim, meanwhile, was rapidly spiraling into a jealousy-fueled rage.

“No way! This can’t happen! I’m the mascot! Me! Not you!” Grim wailed, tugging at his own fur as if his dignity depended on it.

In the background, Idia was already searching for the best cat toys to order online.

This was going to be a long day.

Masterlist

[miviaceleste]

A Blackrock Story: A Boy with Turquoise Eyes

Happy 12th Anniversary to Blackrock Chronicle!

This comic ended up being 47 pages long (when I first sketched it, it was only 20 pages long). Since I can only upload 30 images in a post, I had to combine 2 pages into 1 image so hopefully it's still visually fine and not annoying to scroll through!

I wrote this mini-story more than 10 years ago, so I figured it was time to finally make it into a comic (after editing the writing a lot because I became a much better writer since lol).

Be aware of the TWs, and I hope you enjoy this comic!

TW: Violence || Blood || Injuries/Scars/Burn Marks || Kidnapping || (Temporary) Death || Loss of Limb / Amputation

Thank you all for reading one of my most insane projects ever!

Now, here’s another long story:

About 8 years ago, my life became so busy that to stay on top of my studies and activities, I stopped watching a lot of YouTubers, including the Yogscast.

I’ve grown up throughout the years. I had to stop acting like a kid to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m still an artist today, but I haven’t drawn in this way for about 3 years to pursue my real passion. I love to draw, but I didn’t have the time or inspiration to make something grand.

About 3 months ago, I suddenly got curious about how all those YouTubers I stopped watching were doing, so I checked out their channels and watched a video or two before moving on. When I got to the Yogscast channel, on the other hand, I quickly fell in love with the new content and with everyone again.

It was insane to see how immediately my love for them came back. In 3 months, I’ve watched so many videos and streams/VODs. It’s all so comforting, funny, and uplifting. Clearly, I missed so much content in the past 8 years, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of things to watch for a while.

What made me most happy was that despite changing a lot, I never stopped being that kid who laughed at the Yogscast’s shenanigans. It just goes to show that no matter how much the world tries to push you around, you never lose that sense of joy you had as a child.

Now, about Rythian:

Since I started watching the Yogscast in 2011, Rythian has always been my favorite. I loved his series so much, especially with how he got into character to give us an immersive experience. It was an escape for me as a kid. When difficult moments were thrown at me, I watched Rythian’s series to find a sense of comfort.

So when I started watching his and Zoey’s Blackrock series, my mind was blown. The storytelling, acting, humor, and drama of the series were so immersive and touching that my creativity exploded.

I mainly use art to express myself and my interests because I struggle to talk about it. But funny enough, Blackrock was the only interest of mine that got me to not draw, but to write. I wrote a lot of short stories about the series—even how I envisioned the series would end. I was so inspired to create all the time from this series.

And what’s crazy is that at the beginning of this summer, I found all of those written drafts and notes from when I was a kid. I kept them all for 10+ years and found a very loose (and not that good) draft of this comic and I felt really inspired to finish it.

It was roughly when I was first watching Blackrock too when I realized that I can be creative in the future. The Yogscast helped me understand that I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life. If they could do it, then why can’t I?

What’s also wonderful is that even after so many years, Rythian never stopped being my favorite. When I started watching the main channel again a few months ago, I immediately found myself rooting for him whenever he was in the group videos. I just remembered how much happiness he brought me when I was younger and it makes me so happy that I still get so much joy whenever I hear his voice.

While working on this comic, I watched all of Kirbycraft and caught up on Kirby Farm. I can’t help but smile the whole time Rythian, Briony, and Kirsty interact with one another. The dynamic of these three brings me so much laughter and comfort. A part of me is upset that I didn’t get back to watching everyone when Kirbycraft was still live, but better late than never, right?

I also originally started this comic without the intention of posting it. But then I figured, Hey, it’d be great to share it with everyone who’s also been impacted by this series and the Yogscast in general, so I made this blog to post it here. Honestly, I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to draw is (who knew building a career takes away a lot of your energy and time?). But I think that’s what’s so wonderful about my love for Yogscast and particularly Blackrock: I didn’t make this comic for the likes or views. It was just because I wanted to, and I’m so happy to see there are so many people on here who feel the same love for them as I do.

This series and the people who made it, along with the people who supported it and loved it and continued to love it, impacted me for the better. I learned so many years ago that I can be creative for a living, and have been working hard towards doing that since.

Happy 12th Anniversary to the Blackrock Chronicle. To Rythian and Zoey who put a smile on this kid’s face even during the toughest of times.

And to the Yogscast, thank you for being there for me when I needed you all the most and for still being here when I came back. Your ability to inspire me and make me laugh never disappeared throughout the years I was gone, and I’m ready to laugh some more.

[lishens]

ʚɞ ⁺ ˖ ⸝⸝ ꒰⠀THE APPLE OF HIS EYE⠀꒱

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out. Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

pseudo-incest. fem!reader is a virgin. dubious consent. caleb has an obvious thing for being the big brother in this dynamic. slight guilt. overuse of endearments and the term "girl" when it comes to describing reader. mild nipple play. fingering. pussydrunk!caleb. praise. slight mean!caleb.

“Why do you look at me like that?” It is a question that comes softly, almost sweetly from the girl perched above his lap. Caleb feels his heart swell, almost to the point of aching. She is his entire world, has been upon first sight as nothing more than children, but in this closeness where the space between them is almost nonexistent? Caleb can barely resist the urge to press his lips all over her face, leaving a mark on her in the same way she did with him.

All he does is smile, arms around her waist tightening like he cannot bear to part. In the silence inside his mind, he can admit freely that he will never survive without her. Everyone would say that it is a given, after all, they are siblings.

With their grandmother now gone, they only have each other to rely on. Family is where one must draw strength, their love and support the energy necessary to keep an individual going. But not like this, Caleb knows that much. Brothers do not lust after their sisters, should not want them in the way a man wants a woman. But he does. By all the stars above, he does.

A sharp inhale, letting the scent of her fill his lungs, then a whisper, “you’re just the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” An understatement, if there ever is one. Even goddesses in the heavens cannot compare.

The love that he has for his little sister is an immoral thing that would be sickening to any other. Caleb knows and understands, but he would rather sink into depravity than let go of her, of his feelings, and the hold that he has on her. It is only by small mercies, fate looking upon him kindly, that she never pushes him away.

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out.

Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

The sound of her small exhalation laced with far too much affection fills him with life, it makes him move closer, their breaths mingling until they are breathing the same air — like he is a man drawn to her by some inexplicable thread. He is, and he always will be. “Am I?” She dares to ask, like she is not the most beautiful thing in his world, the only thing that lightens his days. She dares to ask, like the answer is not in the way his eyes can never be far from where she is, like it is not obvious how he gets tongue-tied in her presence, like his devotion can ever be questioned when it comes to her.

“Of course,” he whispers, lips curving into a smile. Warmth floods his very marrows, like liquid light and liquid love combined. A hand travels from her waist, to the side of her ribs, then to her jaw. He stares at her, the sun of his universe, and dares to caress the skin beneath her eye.

They are so close that Caleb feels like weeping, it has been so long since they have been this intimate, the only kind of intimacy he will ever get from his sister. It is enough, it has to be enough.

It is not enough.

They have always been a ticking time bomb, one wrong spark and they explode like a house of cards, of false families and relation threads that they never agreed to, crumbling down to ashes.

“Sweet enough to make my head spin,” comes the soft murmur, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of her lips. Caleb wants to say more and do more, to confess how he truly feels, but something holds him back — society, expectations, the rules he created to keep himself in check. But his restraint is rapidly fraying, a noose choking his neck. “My darling girl, my pretty girl.”

His heart beats like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings, each throb echoing the truth of his words. He loves her like he loved no other, like he will love no other. It is her or no one at all.

A muffled noise, the sound of pure delight. Caleb hears her laugh and wants to bottle the sound, keep it safe forever. “Yours?” She asks in a small voice, hesitance in the way she looks at him, and something in him just shatters.

She can doubt the rest of the world, but she must never doubt his feelings.

It is a question that does not require an answer, his constant presence beside her speaking for itself, but he needed her to understand how much she means to him. “You are,” Caleb confirms, voice low and almost stern. He captures her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards so they can stare into each other’s eyes and she sees the truth of his words. There is no room for doubt in his heart, his mind, and his soul.

“Really?” She asks, like she cannot believe that she is so precious to her big brother. Her eyes are wide, almost in awe at the mere thought of his need to possess her.

The lines begin to blur, brother and sister, man and woman — a yearning heart to another heart that wants. But maybe, they have been blurred since the very beginning. Maybe, they have always been doomed, their fates written in a way that they will be made to devour each other one way or another.

“Really,” he insists, a hint of frustration seeping into the tone. Caleb leans forwards, having to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Foolish girl, you have to understand,” he trails off, the words not rising, struggling to find the correct ones — the ones that will speak the truth of the enormity of his feelings. How can he ever dare speak of what he feels without scaring her? How can he ever convey them in a way that is enough, that encompasses all that he feels when no words seem suitable? A long pause, having to take a deep breath that sounds loud as a bang in the tension between them. “You have always been mine, not my sister, never as my sister. You have always been the sun in my universe, the bright star in which I revolve around. I’m nothing without you, the life inside of me cannot exist without your presence. I am yours, just as much as you are mine.”

Silence ensues, his eyes desperate to see anything from her features — it can be hatred, disgust, anger. Anything, anything at all. He dares not to hope, not when his feelings do not require to be returned.

“Caleb,” she begins, tone soft and gentle like soothing a spooked animal, and he feels his breath get caught in his lungs. “Caleb, I love you. I have always loved you and it scared me sometimes.”

A sigh of disbelief comes falling, then joy. An overwhelming sense of relief soon washes over him at the admission as it finally sinks into his mind what she just said. Hope surges upwards, overtaking all of his sense of reason. He holds her cheeks between gentle palms, thumbs rubbing gently on the warm skin.

“Hush, it’s okay to be scared,” he coos, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, keeping his touch soft and careful. “But you have to trust in me, in us. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

Sharp gaze tracks the way she bites on her bottom lip, considering his request. It is obvious how terrified she is by this change, but also incredibly tempted. It is new territory, but not only for her, also for Caleb. Her trust in him wins out in the end, her head nodding once then twice, shaky hands reaching to hold on to his shoulders. “Yeah, I think— I think I can, b-but I don’t know how.”

Relieved, he leans in much closer until their lips are barely a hair's breadth from one another. “Just follow my lead, okay?” The tone of his voice is low, reassuring. Palm moving from her cheek down to her throat, trapping it in his grip in a gentle hold. Caleb presses his thumb right above her pulse, just to feel her heartbeat against his skin. It is not even a want, it is a need.

He soon tilts her head upwards, letting their lips meet in a tender press.

The world turns quiet, and he can almost weep from the joy just one kiss can bring him. The guilt exists in the periphery, but it is easily ignored in favour of her skin against his.

How can he ever think of anything else when he has her on his lap like this?

Caleb pours all of his love, his desires, into the kiss in hopes that she can feel the depths of his feelings. His teeth scrape the plush brim, tugging on it just to hear her whine, and whine she does. A low groan comes in response, his hand moving even further downwards to pull her even closer, a bruising grip on her hips.

He wants to devour her, to consume her entirely, but this is new for the both of them and he does not want to overwhelm her.

Fraying control makes Caleb move gentler, more coaxing than demanding. A sensual rhythm that cares not for her inexperience, just wanting her to enjoy the act of kissing him, of feeling all his love.

Breaking the kiss just enough to catch his breath, he pulls away from her mouth to look at her with hunger, pupils dilated as he marvels at how she responds. “Pretty fucking thing,” he hisses, more to himself than to her. The hardness of his arousal pressing insistently between her legs, evidence of his growing need.

“You make me feel things,” she trails off, looking away from Caleb as she struggles to find the right words, “things I never felt before.”

The heat on her cheeks seems to further warm from embarrassment at how wanton she appears. It makes him warm inside, even more when she does not dare pull away, does not dare break the intimate connection of their bodies. “I know what you mean, it’s nothing I’ve ever felt before either.”

His hands start to wander, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the skin of her lower back. Caleb marvels at her softness, the warmth of her flesh. Slowly, and with utmost care, he begins to move his hands higher to map the contours of her body; lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. When she squirms, he makes shushing noises, “it’s okay, we can take our time.” But he still tugs her shirt off, exposing the bare expanse of her torso.

The sight of the swell of her breasts, peeking above the neckline of her bra, makes his mouth turn dry and he has to swallow hard.

“Gods,” he croaks out, instinctively leaning forward to mouth at her collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous, prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”  Caleb’s palm moves to cup her breast, sliding underneath the pad of her bra to brush his thumb over her nipple, watching with delight as she twitches in response.

Impatient, he pushes her bra down until it bunches around her waist. Surging forward, he takes a nipple into his mouth without care for her squirming. He suckles on it gently, teasing the bud with his tongue at the same time his fingers pinch and twist the other. Free hand travels down her stomach, dipping into the waistband of her shorts to explore the dripping folds of her core.

He can already tell how wet she is, how ready she is to take him.

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “You’re so messy.”

It is a mockery, and Caleb can feel how much she likes his words by the way she practically flutters around his fingers. Dirty girl, he thinks to himself. The digits trace the slit, moving them back and forth until his fingertips are soaked with her arousal before rubbing tight circles on her sensitive little nub just to hear her sing.

“Just let go, baby. Feel everything for me, hm? Don’t think, let me take care of you.”

He slides a finger, just one, curling it to hit that spot that makes her see stars. When she wails, tears pricking her pretty eyes, Caleb cannot resist the urge to grin. “Found it,” and it is with relentless attention that he moves his hand back and forth, never letting more than two knuckles be free from her heat.

She thrashes above his lap, trembling from the overwhelming sensation assaulting all her senses. A sharp cry echoes in their living room, salty wetness dripping down her cheeks as she struggles to breathe through the intensity. Every single time Caleb pulls his finger back, he watches as she gasps and shakes her head. “It’s too much,” she weeps. “I can’t— I can’t!”

Instead of stopping, Caleb only laughs meanly. All his vows of treating her gently had flown out of the window the moment he felt her tight cunt around his finger.

“No, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her eye, tasting her tears. “It’s not too much. Trust me, okay? Trust your big brother to take care of you.” It is those words that send her falling over the edge, soaking his lap with her release as she cums with a strangled cry.

Coaxing her gently through the aftershocks, he soon brings his fingers to his mouth. Caleb smiles sweetly, before licking her arousal clean off of his fingers.

“Delicious.”

He cannot wait to feel her cunt wrap around his cock. This is his reward for being patient, it is what he deserves, and Caleb will never let her go.

© lishens ( 2024 ): do not claim, modify, copy or repost my works without permission. minors do not interact.

[prince-liest]

some personal thoughts on Talk Show 666: Anger Management, partly stolen from my own comment replies to other people:

It's kind of interesting to me every time people perceive Alastor's words to Vox when he's saying things specifically to humiliate him in the context of sex to be excessively cruel, or something to feel bad for on Vox's part. I never intended to write them as something that Vox wasn't, like. Blatantly enjoying, in a very kink-specific way. Granted, it's not the usual humiliation kink dirty talk, because Alastor's idea of dirty talk started at "your bones would look super pretty carved out of your chest" and Vox never corrected him except for to react positively to getting humiliated…

However! Similarly to the way that Alastor wants and enjoys being forced into distress and helplessness as in Livestream 666, Now Presenting: A Love Potion Makes the Medicine Go Down, Vox likes being hurt by Alastor's words. At least, he did until they reached this moment in Talk Show 666: Anger Management where he gets upset with Alastor for talking about how disgusting he used to think Vox's interest in him was. There's a difference between saying "You are [insert humiliating kinky insults]" vs "I think badly of you," especially framed in the context of a time in the past when they actually ended up on bad terms…but Alastor doesn't know what Vox is getting out of this in the first place, and so didn't know this, either.

On the other hand, I do think that some of that perception of feeling bad for Vox probably comes from the same place as people who did read the CNC fic and perceive it as genuine non-con - despite Alastor's repeated initial consent, Vox's check-in, Alastor's utter lack of using any force whatsoever to attempt to escape, and his satisfaction with how things went after the fact. Sometimes you just truly cannot relate to how another person would experience something, especially if you personally find that thing to be a negative experience.

Additionally, at no point has Vox done anything other than encourage the monologuing, including actually discussing it and what he gets out of it. Alastor's been pressing that button like a "say mean things and Vox gets off on it" generator without really having a deeper understanding of why that is, because "I don't get this Sex Thing but it seems to work for him" is how he handles a lot of what they do together in general. That is the intersection where Vox's frequently shitty communication tactics combined with this situation to explode the whole thing in their faces. It was going to happen eventually! Best it happened now, after they did so much processing to get to where they are.

No murder attempts, that's already good!

[koolades-world]

I’m so proud of you for getting 2K followers!

Can you please do Simeon x reader (the two are already dating) with Simeon saying both prompts 5. "I’m here. You're safe with me" and 9. “are you bleeding?”

Please and thank you! :D

thank you so much!! i gladly will :))

i don't think i've ever written a dedicated piece for simeon so i'll put my whole heart into this to make sure it does him justice!

enjoy <3

prompts 5 and 9 w/ Simeon

It was getting late. The songbirds were asleep, and fireflies could be seen out in the open field near Purgatory Hall. The stars lit up the sky and if you listened close enough, you could hear demons laughing with one another. On any other day, the sight might be enjoyable and would be a great opportunity to gather loved ones to savor the moment.

But, it was too late for Simeon's liking. He was expecting you home hours ago. You had even called him, letting him know you were on your way home, and that you were running one last errand, despite the fact that you were out with friends. He didn't want to rush or question you though. You were an adult and your own person. You didn't need him looking over your shoulder. How he wish he did though.

He didn't want to call the brothers, because they would tear apart the Devildom searching for you, nor did he want to wake up his housemates out of fear they'd view him as irresponsible. He checked his D.D.D. for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, and after looking at the time, he decided he was going out to find you himself. If you were still running your errand, he could just apologize. He just wanted to make sure you were ok.

Just as he had gathered all his things and was about to put his jacket on, he heard the keys being inserted into the lock of the front door, and he heard it crack open. With the biggest sigh of relief he'd ever let out, he hung the jacket back up and rushed to greet you. You looked tired, and had your jacket oddly draped around you. But, he didn't question that. Instead, he was more focused on the bouquet of flowers in your hand.

"Sorry I took a while to get home. These are for you, sweetie. They took a tumble, so I'm sorry they look a little rough. " You held them out to him, and he felt as if his heart was about to explode from joy. Nobody had ever given him flowers before. He took them from you, and spun them around in his hands. He studied them closely, and found a little note stuck on a picket in the center. You watched anxiously as he removed it and read it.

"Mc. You're too kind. I'll have to make it up to you in some way." The note read 'because you deserve it <3' and Simeon was over the moon at the sentiment. There was no occasion. Mc just wanted to do something nice for him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I thought you might like them. No need to make it up to me. You're my boyfriend. That in itself is more than enough for me. You're my gift, silly." At your words, he threw his arms around you, unable to contain his feelings. He was usually so composed, but he just couldn't hold it in. He found it kind of ironic he found true happiness in the Devildom, but he could live with that fact as long as it meant he got to remain by your side.

In this hug though, something felt off. You leant into him heavily, which he might normally put off as you being loving and happy to see him again, but that combined with everything he'd observed when you'd entered, he felt as if he should at least ask. "Are you alright, my love?" He stepped back a little to scan you for any signs of harm. The way you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm alright. Just tired from my night out is all." You tried to comfort him with a warm smile, but he was quick to shut that down.

"Be honest with me. This isn't me trying to be mean, and you know that." He glared at you in a way you'd never seen before. With a sigh, you realized the act was up. You shrugged the jacket off, and at first, Simeon saw nothing wrong. But, as he looked closer, the fabric of your shirt looked as if it was damp.

"Are you bleeding? Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got home?" The flowers were quickly set on a nearby table as he rushed to your side to inspect you closer. You lifted your shirt just enough to show off the three evenly spaced slashes on your abdomen.

"I didn't want you to feel bad about the gift." You confessed. He was quick to put two and two together.

"Did you get this while getting my flowers?" Your silence was telling.

"I know what you're going to say, so you don't need to," you sadly told him. He put his arm around your shoulders and led you to the living room. He sat you down on the sofa and told you to hold still while he healed you.

"You should see the other guys." You weakly smiled at him, in hopes of trying to lighten the situation.

"There was more than one? We'll be talking about who did this later since I want to focus on your right now, but you can't casually mention things like that." Simeon sighed. He went silent after that to focus on healing you, and like magic, all that was left of the wounds was scars. Now, the two of you were just staring at each other silently.

"Why didn't you call me?" He remained in front of you to look you in the eyes.

"I had it. I didn't need any help." At first, you planned to stop there, but you couldn't hide anything from him. "They told me they'd hurt you if I tried to ask you for help, and I panicked. I was really worried about you, and they told me no matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to escape." You leant into him again, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sweetie, it's alright. You did great." He wiped the tears as they fell. Despite the sparse amount of tears, you looked upset and worn down. "I'm here. You're safe with me." His words seemed to resonate with you, and you tightly clutched him as if he might vanish.

"Thank you. I love you." You rested your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. Remember, your safety always comes first. Any world where you are is a world I want to be in." He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. "By the way, thank you for the gift, I really appreciate it," he told you, gently smiling.

"I thought you'd like it. They made me think of you when I saw them." He couldn't deny the fact that you were always on his mind, and it warmed his heart to know that you felt the exact same.

"Now, let's get you to bed. You need rest. I'll watch over you." With that, the two of you headed off so you could get your well needed rest. Simeone was glad you were safe.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Literally, I'm not gonna tell you what I was doing when I though of this 🫣. But uh, my god, dude. Stick a fork in me cuz I'm super, super done.

C/W ::: Just like, gross lovey dovey shit. Fingering, teasing, um, I don't even think this has language. So yeah. If you hate romantic stuff, mushy stuff, this is not for you.

WC ::: 646

Song Rec

Kafka laid down to your right, next to you on your bed. He thinks it's a lot like you: Warm, soft, and he never wants to leave.

And for the last 45 minutes, he's been kissing your neck so slowly and gently that you feel like you're either going to cum from the tension that has been racking your body or crawl out of your skin.

His right hand has been drawing tiny circles on your belly. His thumb rubs the parts of you that you wished he'd never notice. Never pay attention to.

Still kissing you, he slips his hand just below the elastic on your probably too-casual-for-the-occasion panties. He just looks down at you, locking eyes, and smiles that loving smile that he gives you when he knows something you're not quite privy to.

Your brows furrow, hips jutting upward as a nearly inaudible whine slips from your throat.

But his superhuman hearing caught that and the way your heartbeat increased dramatically as he sought out your wetness. His fingers danced further down with every intention of filling you. But at the last second, he withdrew his destination.

He put his middle finger into your mouth and tipped his chin up at you, silently reminding you that you know exactly what to do right now.

You obliged and let it slip passed your lips, sucking him in. You swirled your tongue around him, tasting yourself. Eyes rolling uncontrollably at how utterly sexy this man is right now and always.

Kafka had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing he needed in this world. The way his eyes dilated as you sucked on him made you feel like the only thing in his world his sights were set on.

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, "Is this what you want? Is this what you need?"

He knew the answer already, but he loved hearing you say it. You wanted him. You needed him. You were his. He was yours. And right now, all you could focus on was him making you cum with his fingers, his mouth, his dick, or any combination thereof.

And so, he put his middle finger back in your mouth and took his index finger back down to your pussy. He spread your wetness over your clit. Your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his touch getting heavier.

He pressed down on it with a gentle but firm touch, and you melted into his embrace. The feeling of his hands on your body and his breath on your neck made you feel like you were floating.

Your orgasm was coming on quick. You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him and grip onto him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

With every kiss and stroke, he carried you closer to the edge. Your hips bucked as you felt the pressure building even more inside of you.

Your moans grew louder and louder until finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. You came, cursing any deities that were within range of hearing you. And, finally, a sigh. You were left feeling like your body was going to explode from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Kafka held you through it all, his fingers never leaving your clit, until you'd completely released every ounce of energy he'd made your body stockpile.

He held you close and kissed your forehead gently. "You're so … I love you so much."

You knew he meant it. You knew he loved you more than anything else in this world. You just wished you knew why. Why did he choose you? How did you end up with someone who was so perfect for you?

As he lay next to you, Kafka gently nibbled your earlobe and whispered, "I'm never letting go."

@supersecretsaga @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@witchy-scribblings (I hope it's ok to tag you?? I figured if you love him as much as I do you want to see everything ever written for him lol. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged and I'll cease and desist! =) )

@darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @bakubunny

@viburnt @reiners-milkbiddies @southside-otaku

@trevengersprincess (Sun-Ray? Do you want to be tagged in this stuff? Lmk! =) <3)

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

iirc you mentioned (in the eridan essay?) that nepeta and feferi hate each other. could you elaborate on that?

You can find the details for that in my Nepeta essay, but the TL;DR is as follows:

Nepeta is the only troll who has ever expressed that the hemocaste is stupid and should not matter - the lowbloods are upset about being lowbloods, but generally seem to accept the hemocaste's existence, whereas every highblood mentions how rad and awesome it is to be better than the lowbloods (whether or not they believe that).

CT: D –> Your fraternization with the base classes have 100sened your morals, can’t you see this AC: :33 < no! i dont care, they are fun AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn’t matter! AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!

Meanwhile, although Feferi says that "nobody is better t)(an anybody", she's actually a huge stinking hypocrite who loves being a princess and loves being better than everyone else. The moment she isn't talking to another troll, she can't shut up about it:

CC: GLUUUUB oh fine. CC: I will suspend my neato quirk just for you. CC: I hereby renounce the royal mark of sea dweller supremacy in the interest of INT-ERSP-ECI-ES DIPLOMACY. ... CC: Okay, you win. I have officially humbled myself before you. Entirely glubbing peasant-IFICATED for your pleasure. CC: Shall I clip my fins for you as well, your majesty? ... CC: Hey! We're the aristocracy. We've got a duty to be weird. ... CC: PSH WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT, MISS HORNLESS MCFINLESS.

In fact, that last remark, finless? We actually get to see that insult a second time - this time from Eridan, when he's trying to be casteist at Sollux:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal

Like, "finless" not an innocent thing to call someone. Feferi also uses the r-word twice, which is a lot given how little dialogue she has. Signs all point to her actually having a LOT of rampant, unchecked privilege, even if she is a genuinely well-meaning person who wants to make life better for everybody.

Put it all together, and you get two characters who, if they're alive, and therefore discussing what they want the new world to be like, will have IRRRRRRRRECONCILEA8LE differences. Like, there's a reason Fefetasprite was the second-most explode-prone of the combination sprites. What I'm saying is pitch FefNep would fix Feferi -

[getvalentined]

FF7 Fandom PSA

This is not a callout post, this is a warning about a genuinely dangerous abuser who uses fandom spaces to acquire victims.

Apparently my abusive ex is ingratiating himself into fandom spaces again, so if you're in the FF7 fandom please keep an eye out for someone calling himself Pix or Pixeled.

The details of what he did to me specifically are available in a post from almost exactly two years ago, readable here. Other people have shared their own stories, but I don't have the energy to dig up all of them. Trigger warnings for gaslighting, emotional abuse, violent threats, forced isolation, manipulation, and more that I'm definitely missing.

Known usernames:

Instagram: midgardsomrnights, pixeledartsy, okgoosefus, pixeledpalace

AO3: pixeled, pixeledxxx

tiktok: pixrexpen, gaywrathlet

FFXIV: sarielperedhil (on Brynhildr)

ko-fi: pixrexpalace

Other: pix pendragon, pixeled pendragon, pixrexpendragon

Some of these are current, most of them are not; he's no longer active here or on Twitter that I'm aware of, so I'm not referring to his usernames there, but he uses some combination of parts from these for his usernames everywhere so they followed the same theme.

This is not "fandom drama," this is a sincere warning to anyone in his orbit to be careful and be safe. Please love yourself more than he wants you to.

With that in mind, there are more personal details under the cut, discussing the fallout of going public with his abuse and more of his behavior; no screenshots on these because it's years in the past, not all of the related accounts and spaces still exist, and back when I was first gathering evidence I had to stop before it lapsed into the territory of emotional self-harm.

Same trigger warnings as above, plus racism, (implied) sexual exploitation, sexual manipulation, and discussion of Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

I want to be very clear that I was not the first person to go through this, I was just the first to go public afterward. I have lost relationships with people I thought were friends by doing so, and actually been referred to as abusive in response to my initial thread on Twitter letting people know what he'd done. I've had people who used his treatment of me as an excuse to join in with hurting me go on to co-opt my abuse to make themselves look like victims, claiming that we were best friends until he drove us apart—or worse, to use him as a complete stand-in for their own behavior, implying or outright stating that he forced them to isolate me from friends and fandom activities and treat me like shit, all while these people have me blocked on every possible platform where I could reconnect with them.

Pix was the Bad Guy of early 2022 on FF7 Twitter, and while he deserved the title, not everything everyone said about him was true. Not everything everyone said about me was true, either, but people tend to take anything connected to fandom as "drama," even when it involves literal abuse.

One thing I never told anyone except my closest friends is that Pix drove me to the verge of suicide multiple times. He put up videos insulting me to be "funny" and got friends laughing along, when I asked him to stop teasing me all the time he exploded and said that he was allowed to express himself however he wanted and if I had a problem then I should break up with him so he could finally kill himself guilt-free, he told me that he wasn't going to placate me anymore by saying "I love you," he told me in public spaces to shut up because I didn't know anything. He used racist slurs against Asian people behind my back and told everyone who called him on it that I'd told him it was all right, leading to a continuing belief among some circles that I have some deep internalized racism toward my own fucking ethnicity.

He told me that his mother saw me as a whore and a homewrecker, because I'd seduced him away from his boyfriend of eight years—in spite of the fact that I told him outright I did not want a romantic relationship with him because he was already in one, and I wouldn't be party to cheating. When I went public with what he did, he claimed that I pressured him into a romantic relationship, neglecting to mention that he'd been pushing for one almost since we met and that I'd shot him down because he was already with someone else. He said that I'd forced him to break up with his boyfriend, and seemed to be implying that I'd somehow sexually exploited him because I'm a cisgender lesbian and he identified as an aro/ace trans man at the time we broke up. When we got together, he identified as a bisexual nonbinary person.

To be completely honest, though, his orientation and gender identity doesn't even fucking matter with regards to the implication that I exploited him because we never had any form of sexual contact—unless you want to count RP, which I don't, and if I did I would be calling him a cheater because I was not his only RP partner.

To be completely clear, we were in a long distance relationship, thousands of miles apart, and we had no sexual contact. We never sexted, we never had phone sex, we never even exchanged dirty pictures. Our relationship had no sexual element whatsoever. He eventually told me in no uncertain terms that if/when we got married, he wasn't going to sleep with me because he didn't have a sex drive anymore due to trauma, and that since I loved him so much I'd have to be happy with that.

He would remind me of this when my Body Dysmorphic Disorder began to relapse constantly from the amount of stress he had me under, because my experience with the condition is rooted on my lack of physical femininity and leads me to see myself as completely sexually repulsive. When I was triggered and trying to untie the knot in my chest that made me want to throw up at the thought of my own body, he would remind me that I didn't have to worry about being too ugly for sex with him, because he was never going to fuck me anyway. That it didn't matter if I was disgusting, because he found all bodies disgusting, so really I was lucky to have him. He didn't even care that I was disabled and that my arms and legs are too long, that my joints slip out of place all the time, that the way I have to move sometimes to keep from hurting makes me look "weird and stupid." I was so lucky to have him, because even though he was very aware of all those things, he didn't actually care. He wasn't going to fuck me anyway.

The last Christmas card he sent me literally had the words "You deserve a high-five!" printed on the front, and on the reverse he'd written something along the lines of "okay but you know I'd be sure to miss and slap you in the face, sorry not sorry."

He made my life hell in every possible way, and people said it was drama because we met through fandom—and that I deserved it, honestly, since I was so fucked up and he was such a good person for even caring about me in the first place. I deserved it, people said, since I turned around and stabbed him in the back after he'd done so much for me for the years we were together. It was just fandom drama, they said, and I was just thriving off the social capital it allegedly earned me.

And now he's back and making new friends, but it's fine because this all happened years ago, and everyone with a brain should be able to see that it's just fandom drama. But it's not. It never was. Don't let him convince you otherwise.

[thrashkink-coven]

OKAY

I think we need to discuss something that I’ve literally never heard any other practitioners talk about but I think it’ll immediately clear up A LOT of confusion! This is obviously my own upg so take it with as much validity as you please.

When doing any kind of work with any kind of deity, you really need to understand the concepts of archetypes and syncretism.

Religion, faith, and mythology, it’s all a big mess. Our clumsy archaic human language and our tendency to destroy and distort information means that the ancient world is really, to our modern understanding, A LOT (and I mean a LOT) of hypothesizing.

We often use the same words to describe different concepts, mix up names, combine names, and misunderstand each other. Such is the nature of humanity.

Theology is always fluid. Different entities have different cultural associations, some major entities or characters are even shared among multiple groups of people. Syncretism means that groups of people develop their ideas with the influence of other groups of people, though shifted to make sense for their personal experience.

My favourite thing in the world is when different religions share stories- viewing history from totally different perspectives- Retelling the same events through the scope of their theology.

This is why we have archetypes. There are many goddesses of love and sex that are associated with the planet that is commonly known as Venus. Why these archetypes emerge in the way they do? That’s up for you to debate with yourself.

The question of whether Aphrodite is Astarte or Ishtar or Lucifer or Helel or Eosphoros or Hesperus is not a question that can be answered entirely objectively. It can never be proven and it can never be disproven. Because sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes the answer is definitely no, and sometimes it’s really hard to tell.

The way that we all experience the energy that is “Venus” is going to be different. If she definitely feels like the same energy as Astarte to you, then that could be the case. There’s no objective authority on reality or faith. There is no reason why the findings of 1000 year old magis are more legitimate than yours. Study, learn, experiment.

I like to imagine it similar to colors. We all agree that wavelengths between 620 to 750 nm are red. We have silly little cones in our eyes that work with our brains to turn information into color. But we all understand that there are thousands of shades of red, and some people can’t even see red. Do you see where I’m going? I hope this makes sense.

Because of the way that we interact with reality, there are as many Aphrodite as there are people who believed in Aphrodite- and this is true for every God (at least in my silly little opinion).

There are as many variations in her energy as there are variations of people who follow her.

I try to scope this around what Jophiel told me once. YHWH created him, sometimes. But not at the moment when I was talking to him. When I asked him if Lucifer was the Satan of Christianity he said “sometimes” as well. It depends. It all depends. That’s the beauty of this weird wacky thing that we do.

Anyways,

I don’t know how else to write this but to say some people aren’t compatible with every archetype lol. This is totally okay though, it’s not anyone’s fault! It’s just like … spiritual chemistry. Alchemy? Stay with me!

Nature has laws. If you try to push against these laws you will experience difficulty and suffering. ☹️

Nature creates certain compounds. Stable compounds thrive 🙂 and unstable compounds explode ☹️. Interactions create products and outputs. When two or more elements that are not compatible are introduced they may have a volatile reaction.

I will not claim to know how divinities operate. This is all just my silly billy pondering. But I do know for fact, that at least in my experience, certain entities that share the same address interact with different people in different ways- and some entities will only respond to you under a specific face. Some entities will share faces, and some won’t even respond to you at all.

I’ll use a couple personal examples for reference.

When I first started working with Prince Cerberus, I addressed him using his Goetic name Naberius, as recorded in the Lesser Key of Solomon. I used his sigil and addressed that name.

One of the first things that came through crystal clear was his request to not be called Naberius. He made it very clear to me that he wanted to he called Cerbere or Cerberus, or that I could make up a personal name, but never should I use Naberius. He did not give a reason but he was firm on it.

Now, does this mean that we all can’t use the name Naberius and that we should all blacklist the name? NO! and this doesn’t mean that anyone who works with Naberius is disrespecting Cerberus!!!

For whatever reasons, I don’t know why, my Naberius is Cerberus. I don’t know if Naberius and Cerberus are the same entity or not, I just know that when I think of Naberius I get forwarded to Cerbere. I’m still able to use Naberius’ sigil, but I always get Cerberus.

That might not be true for you. That might not even be logical. That’s just the way that my spirit interacts with that spirit.

I’ve been a long time admirer of Lord Hermes. I approached him and tried desperately to gain his favor, but he refused 💔💔. He made it pretty clear that it wasn’t going to happen through a few ways, and since then he’s repeatedly rejected me…

lol 🥲

I was confused about that for a while, until I started getting hints towards Lord Mercury.

I can’t explain why, I have no idea what the real reason behind this is, but I feel extremely compatible with Mercury, but not with Hermes, like at all. Their energy feels quite separate and different to me. My Mercury isn’t quick like silver, he’s actually quite slow and contemplative.

I was bummed to not be able to establish a “work” relationship with Hermes but it’s probably for the best. Mercury is an excellent teacher.

What I mean to say through all of this rambling is that these things are not concrete. My Astaroth is only Astarte sometimes. Sometimes they feel very similar, sometimes they feel very distinct.

It’s important to remember that the Gods are not one thing, but many things at once. The answers to these questions are all variable. Only you can find the answers for yourself.

If you read this far you’re a real one 🫡

[kbagraces]

Flip A Switch - Lando Norris

Lando Norris Mafia AU

As much as we try to suppress the stigma, strong women will continue to be perceived as intimidating until you learn to love us.

PART 3 - Demons

I sped straight home to Mandi. She's my absolute ride or die, she's also the only person I've ever been allowed to be around. My father always hated anyone who tried to associate with me, Mandi somehow charmed her way into being my best friend and almost like an adopted cousin to my family. She's been by my side from the age of 15 and will be forever.

I may not have a gang of men supporting me but combined, Mandi and I have more intelligence than the lot of them. Mandi suggested there was no time to be wasted so we packed up all the stuff we could carry, my essentials consisted of all the weapons i could fit into my bag, Mandi however filled hers with clothes for every scenario as in her words "murderous rampages can still look cute". And I can't argue with that.

We had a plane waiting for us in Dover, we agreed flying from London would be a little too obvious however we were going to detour through London to possibly trick them in case they were tracking us in anyway. Keegan is not the brightest so I don't think he would've caught on just yet, but you never know his team might surprise me.

We sped down winding country roads, only an hour from London where we'd stop briefly.

Mandi reached to turn down the music, "What do you think Norris meant when he said his family leaving your dad was a misunderstanding?"

Now i love Mandi, but she does like to see the good in people. This was just not one of the times it was needed.

"Mands, he's a man. He's lying. As much as he painted it that he wanted to help me, there's always an ulterior motive, there always is with men in this business."

"Your dad was a man though. You trusted him, even more than you trust me."

"Daddy always had my best interests at heart. He never lied to me." I miss him so much, we were exactly the same. My mother used to hate the way we'd pair up in everything we did. My relationship with him fuelled Keegan's hatred as well. Daddy loved Keegan, he was a great father to us both. But daddy knew Keegan wasn't business minded, he was messy and he never planned things out or thought before he acted, he wouldn't make a good leader and he's going to ruin my entire bloodlines reputation if we don't get to Spain.

Keegan knows. Unsure when they're leaving.

"Why is he still reaching out to you?" Mandi questions as Lando's message flashes up on the dash. "You must've made a lasting impression." She smirked, I wasn't sure what she was getting at but i didn't appreciate it.

"Not going to send some love hearts back then?"

She finds herself too funny.

"Fuck off and put this in," I lean over my the centre console into my bag in the back, pulling out earpieces. She raises an eyebrow, I already know what she's thinking.

"Are we fucking spies now or something?" She laughs.

"I know you think it's excessive Mands but this isn't a drive along with my dad, you're fully involved now. It's just a precaution." She nods, slipping the device into her ear.

The low fuel warning light flashes up on the dash, "might have to make an early stop."

We pull into a rough looking petrol station. Mandi jumps out of the car beginning to fill it up. Watching her every move in case of any unexpected danger she waltzes into the station. She suddenly turns to the cashier before bolting to the dimly lit bathroom.

"Y/n/n, fuck there's two men sat in the cafe. Guns on the table, the cashier looks fucking terrified. I think they're- I hear her say over the earpiece.

The sound of glass exploding beside my head cut off whatever she was saying. Shards flew all around me, i instinctively ducked down into the foot well of Mandi's car.

"Mands. Don't move. Do not leave the bathroom" I stressed, popping my head up slightly, the men had disappeared from the cafe however the entrance to the petrol station door was swinging.

"Are you fucking joking? You'll die on your own!"

"Stay there!" I screamed, she's not here for this.

Footsteps clicked around the car, "I think we got her! The boss will be happy. Check her."

The passenger side door where I sat flew open, my gun being the first thing to welcome him, not the dead body he was expecting. A smirk found its way on my face as he scrambles for his own gun once more. One shot to the head. He slumps straight down. I jump out, where is this other idiot. "If you're going to put a hit on me, you actually have to hit me you fucker." I spit, sliding my way around the car.

"You've got a smart fucking mouth. They all say it's a shame you're a bitch with a body like that." I feel his arms clasp around me, pulling me against his body. One hand clasping a knife pressed into my neck, not hard enough to pierce the skin, but with one glide, dead. His other hand wrapped in his hand pulling my head back into his shoulder.

Fuck. I bend my arm backwards, grabbing at his manhood, squeezing and twisting. He screams out in pain, leading his grip to tighten, the opposite of what I was hoping would happen.

"Fuck you." He seethes, smashing my head into the side of the car. My vision going with every hit.

I hear Mandi, come out screaming. She's not armed. I made a mistake not providing her with a weapon, i didnt think we'd need them this early into the trip. Fucking stupid.

I want to yell at her to stop, I don't know how close she is.

I hear a gun shot.

Mandi.

But then the grip begins to loosen in my hair his head sliding down my back a warm trail of what i assumed is his blood staining the back of my hoodie. Did Mandi have a gun?

"What the fuck?" I hear her exclaim.

My body collapses finally, my vision still blurred but the piercing screaming sound in my ears slowly dispersing.

"How many times do I have to stop these situations before you realise I'm on your side?"

I know that voice. I'm starting to hate that voice. Lando.

I know he just saved me and Mandi, but he just can't mask the cockiness in his voice.

"How did you know we were here?" Mandi questions as she runs over to me, wiping the hair that was stuck to my head with blood away. Using her sleeve to clean up what she could.

"If they can track you, so can we." He shrugged. He's worryingly nonchalant after killing someone. I feel pangs of guilt even if i hate them, with Lando, not a care in the world, he was born to be a killer. I was taught.

"Thank you." I choke out, my voice hoarse.

"Nat has a place not too far from here. It's protected, you guys can crash with us tonight. No strings if you still want to be proud and carry on without us you can. But get some rest first." He speaks to Mandi, he can tell she's not as one track minded as i am.

"No we need to carry on-"

"Y/n with what car? You're in no state of mind to make decisions."

I try to argue but i feel Lando's hands already, grabbing both my arms, pulling me up. I lean into him, feeling a lot less stable than i convinced myself i was. Mandi already stepping into the car, Lando assists me to the car, my arm around his waist as his is slid beneath my arms.

"Good to see you again, y/n!" Natalie cheers as Lando places me in the backseat, he leans over clicking in my seat belt for me, I want to protest, but i genuinely don't think i could've done that myself.

Its strange how Natalie is so cheery as if she didn't just witness a murder, possibly two.

The mumbles of their voices all begin to merge together. I hear Mandi, shaking me to stay away just until we get to Natalie's.

All i could do was hum.

I can't fight it. Their voices finally disappear.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@barcelonaloverf1life

[dullgecko]

I was rewatching Fantasy high, and realized that Gorgug has asked for hot chocolate everytime Gilear is sent out for Coffee so now here’s the bad kids coffee order

Kristen: Cortado (we know this already 😔)

Fabian: The most complicated order every single godamn time and it’s always different each time. The baristas have started writing his name wrong on purpose they hate him.

“A venti nonfat, no whip, 9 shot, 1 pump mocha drink with 4 shakes of cinnamon, and a caramel drizzle at the bottom. I also want it hot, like as hot at you can get it.”

Riz: Classic black coffee with some sugar and milk, 1) detective vibes, 2) keeps him up. Also Riz relies on coffee so much it is a borderline addiction.

Fig: Something really sweet, like a “Cinnamon Caramel Cream Cold Brew” or smth, Fig doesn’t really drink coffee but she knows exactly what she wants.

Gorgug: Gorgug thinks all coffee is bitter it makes his mouth feel weird and doesn’t like the smell. Hot chocolate is the only thing he’ll order.

Adaine: Also not a coffee drinker, more tea drinker. When she does drink coffee it’s something really light, like a cafetiere.

(I’m a barista Fabian’s order is something that’s actually something I’ve had to make)

Kristen orders Cortados mostly for the in-joke at this point, but she also strikes me as someone who would enjoy a mocha or even those seasonal flavoured coffees when the mood strikes.

Fabian is a menace, his coffee orders are a nightmare, but somehow they always taste amazing. If he's pressed for time or not in a mood to fuck with the barristas he just gets something like an oat-milk latte with caramel syrup. Its especially fun to do when he comes up to the counter, the barista recognises him and a look of dread passes over their face, and then they're just confused by the super simple order. Will usually order the same drink as he's getting for Riz if they're out together, does not take the goblins size into account and adjust the size of the order to suit. It's 2 of exactly the same drink, large or extra large.

Riz's simple coffee orders are mostly because black coffee is usually the cheapest thing on the menu. He'll usually order for himself because most of his friends are on a crusade to stop him exploding his own heart with caffeine overconsumption (Adaine will get him tea, kristen will get him small size only half-strength coffees, Fig will get him a drink that isnt even coffee or caffinated like a milkshake and Gorgug will get him decaf). Fabian is the only one who's allowed to purchase him coffee, but the half-elf spoils the fuck out of him by getting him the extra-large fancy flavoured coffees that have more sugar in them than you should consume in a week and enough caffeine that Riz is vibrating and seeing into the next dimension afterwards. The coffee's Fabian buys him are also disgustingly expensive and cost the same as about 12 of Riz's usual order combined.

Fig gets herself iced coffees with flavoured syrups in them. They're almost more milkshake than anything else, with a little bit of coffee for the caffeine kick. If she has a hot coffee it usually has about five teaspoons of sugar in it with milk to mask the bitterness.

Gorgug likes hot chocolates and vanilla chai lattes. He tries not to have much caffeine because it raises his heart rate too much and makes him feel like he'll go into a rage if not careful.

Adaine love her teas but will spring for a dirty chai latte with vanilla if she's really tired. Sometimes she'll join Fig in having an iced-coffee with extra ice-cream if the weather is really hot.