#I gotta have you rattling around in my brain more

[painted-fanbird]

Thinking about the Inkworld trilogy and Mistborn Era 1, and how they handled books 2 and 3 and why I like the Inkworld better lol

Why compare them? Because Inkheart was the last series I read before Mistborn, and I adored it, but more relevantly they’re formatted similarly. both trilogies have first books that function as standalones, followed by two connected sequels turning them into trilogies

The actual analysis is under the cut both because of massive spoilers for both series, and because this is long and I’m not about to be clogging up your dashboard lol

I adored The Final Empire (book 1), but Well of Ascension (book 2) and The Hero of Ages (book 3) were both major misses for me. Though I didn’t love tWoA, I did find it generally fine. tHoA on the other hand I actively dislike. Contrasted to the Inkworld trilogy, where Inkspell (book 2) is actually my favorite! With Inkdeath (book 3) as my second favorite. Inkheart (book 1) comes in third, but I still love that book. The other two just speak to me XD

Inkspell expands on the loose ends left in Inkheart very naturally, and I love that! Inkspell opens with Dustfinger returning home, which works perfectly since he just vanished into the night at the end of Inkheart with Farid. It additionally sets up Orpheus, and once we’re in the Inkworld we meet up with the rest of our loose ends! Basta and The Magpie. Additionally, Inkspell has the advantage of the Inkworld being generally unknown to us the reader. Cornelia Funke has basically free rein to do what she wants as long as she doesn’t violate the whimsical, magical vibe she’s already established in Inkheart. Which she does not, and Dustfinger’s initial return to his world is literally my favorite scene in the whole book <3

tWoA, by contrast, doesn’t really do this imo. The biggest loose ends we’re left with in TFE are allomancy as a whole, the missing atium, and low key OreSeur specifically. tWoA chooses to focus on literally none of this in depth, instead focusing on the government and the Siege of Luthadel. Which is logical, obviously rebellion take overs will have some kinks they need to iron out, but it doesn’t pay any serious mind to what TFE set up and I find that to be a let down. We get a little bit of Allomancy exploration in Duralumin, but that’s it. The atium is relevant exclusively because the invading armies think Luthadel has it, but there’s no anything about it outside of that. OreSeur is just straight up dead! Though I did love Vin and TenSoon, that was my favorite part of the whole book <3

tWoA also squanders one of the things I adored about TFE, the character dynamics. The whole crew was so fun, and it was such a delight to see interact with each other and Vin. In tWoA they’re barely even there! Dockson, Kelsier’s best friend, has literally three scenes in the entire book. He dies in the third one. Clubs? Also has like three scenes, including where he dies. Ham is marginally more present, but Spook is only in like two scenes himself. We see the most of Sazed, which is cool because I like him <3 Instead of focusing on the crew, tWoA introduces new characters! Which are… hit or miss. Tindwyl and TenSoon and Allrianne my beloved <3 Then there’s Zane. Whom I can only describe as a Gary Stu and frankly I want to pick Sanderson’s brain and find out what the hell he was thinking when he made Zane because by all accounts he makes no sense lol

Inkspell and Inkdeath however, introduce new side characters without usurping the focus on the main cast. This is admittedly helped by Inkheart having a smaller cast in general XD But Dustfinger, Mo, Farid, Fenoglio, Resa, and Meggie if you squint (her squandered potential is another post lol) all remain major players, and continue to interact with each other like the did in book one. It’s great <3

tHoA is where things get particularly dicey for me lol. In tone and in plot. I just found it to be depressing, boring, and I do not like Ruin and Preservation. I don’t generally enjoy plots on a cosmic, god fighting scale to begin with, and I actively hate twist, “it was him all along!” villains. I find them to be boring, and feel that they remove agency from the villains prior to them. Also, I think they were set up poorly. If you removed them from the plot, literally nothing changes with TFE, and very little would change in tWoA. Not ideal for a villain you’re about to claim was here the whole time.

This book also continues the trend of no one talking to each other by scattering our protagonists to the four winds! Vin literally only talks to Elend, and maybe Ham once this book. Spook is in Urteau with Sazed, Breeze, and Allrianne, and his message never makes it to her. They literally don’t talk once and that’s a damn shame considering what they could have had. Tonally it’s just death and distraction all the way through, and that’s just,, blegh. No thanks.

Also everyone is so grim faced and boring, I hate this version of Elend, there’s no sass, no bite to him anymore. Just a grim and dutiful general who insists he’s struggles with doing hard things but then does them anyway. I also hate that his character arc goes unfulfilled! My man spends the entire book being worried about his inability to keep people safe, then he gets beheaded after watching an entire squad of soldiers get slaughtered by koloss. Like sure he saved the world but uhhhh yeah that’s not a satisfying conclusion. (Elend as a character was actually just generally not utilized well by the narrative imo. Raise your hand if you remember that this man was forced to sleep with a skaa girl at 13 years old she avoided romance because of it!)

Vin is also kind of boring, which is deeply upsetting because she was a fav in TFE and tWoA. She’s just so,, grim. And nothing else. It sucks. Also I don’t think her arc was done well here either. I love the idea of her finally coming to terms with the two parts of herself, but it felt forced! Vin spends basically no time as Valette after book 1, so it feels dragged out. We did not have to wait to book 3 to resolve this, we could’ve sorted this our way earlier lol

Also the whole thing with Sazed and the prophecy is just,, wut? I’m not a fan of the implication that Sazed is less of a man because he’s been castrated, and since I just generally don’t like Ruin and Preservation in general turning Sazed into god is just not where it’s at for me. It felt bizarre and out of place tbh

Inkdeath, on the other hand, does not have these issues. It’s villain, The Adderhead, was firmly established and was also the primary villain of book 2. He is not a god. He’s a king who was seeking immortality and was kind of foiled. A man, at his core lol. Tonally it is pretty grim at the beginning, but when Dustfinger is brought back, about 1/3 of the way through, the plot takes a notable hopeful upswing. Things aren’t easy, but they’re looking better now <3

I’ll also be the first to admit that Inkdeath’s clear cut happy ending is my preferred story ending lol, which is absolutely major points in its favor XD

I also think Inkdeath handles its characters well. Meggie and Farid do kind of end up on the side, but Mo, Dustfinger, and Resa all really shine. This opinion is helped by the fact that Mo and Dustfinger are my favorites, but I think it holds merit outside of that. They’ve been primary characters since book 1, are continuing to participate in the main plot together, and I find their arcs to be constant and wrapped up very nicely <3

TL;DR: I think tWoA and tHoA squandered their potential by introducing new plot threads instead of focusing on established loose ends, and committing several character assassinations by book 3. Inkspell and Inkheart did not do this, they followed up on their loose ends directly, kept the focus on the characters introduced in book 1, and did not go suddenly off the rails in the climax, instead ending with my preferred traditional fairy tale ending <3

[lululeighsworld]

me, thinking of a sweet n' fluffy gunterleigh thought:

my brain: okay but here's how possessed!gunter would take this idea and twist it for his own goals

me: do you know how to be quiet? you're why we can't have nice things

[artsybun]

Another Leosagi thing that has been sitting in my folders too long.

I have drawn and shipped Leo with multiple “types” of Usagi’s, Yuichi Usagi, Miyamoto Usagi, and then this bastard who is kinda? my own thing ? It’s technically Yuichi Usagi but with multiple of my own story things involved that I’ve been rattling around my brain for WAY too long. I have another doodle sheet somewhere that goes over the entire thing, but in essence it’s:

Yuichi Usagi’s pipeline into trying to “become” Miyamoto Usagi bc of *trauma* (Jei, it’s Jei). He hides behind this blank mask while trying to emulate the more serious nature of his ancestor, but forgets Miyamoto Usagi’s own love for life in the process. And ofc Leo, as he does, takes one look at Usagi and vows to figure out his “deal”. Meanwhile, Usagi is fighting for his life trying to contain himself because this kappa continues to lower his walls.

EDIT: The doodle sheet I mentioned that goes over my version of Usagi is down below. It’s extremely SRTUC heavy, so if that’s not your cup of tea you don’t gotta check it out.

[blueberryredbullwithlime]

+18. age gap but yuuji and megumi are like 20

yuuji likes megumi's mama.

she's long since divorced toji and she's beautiful -she lives further away from yuuji's house than toji does and megumi feels the need to apologize for the extended effort. but yuuji swears it's no big deal, "honestly i prefer your mom's house anyway!"

megumi shrugs it off as a kindhearted yuuji-ism, thinking nothing more on the matter.

he should've looked into it more. yuuji's insistence on helping around the house; carrying in groceries, dusting fan blades and hard to reach shelves, washing dishes after dinner, mowing the lawn and skimming the pool without a shirt. yuuji's apparent sudden restlessness in the middle of sleepovers, which always somehow mysteriously wound up with him in the kitchen with you. his doting mother.

"you're so pretty," yuuji swoons, "i always wondered how megumi looked dainty when his dad's..."

"a brute?" you suggest, "that guy's oafish, total rocks for brains!" yuuji finds the hissed insults funny, "you know, megumi would probably hate hearing you call him dainty."

"eh, he's gotta know what he looks like," he waves off the concern, then leaning forward on the table, arms crossed over one another, "but, i kinda have to ask... why'd you and his dad separate?"

"so blunt!" you gasp, shrugging soon after -something about sharing this with a boy no older than your son feels wrong, but yuuji's face is so round and trustworthy, sincerity dripping from every pore. you don't have many friends anymore, the ones you do have are tired of this same old rant, but just remembering your ex's sharp face, that lashing bastard tongue oozing lies- you cock a hip against the table, subtly rattling the two steaming tea cups you'd set out, "ugh, he wanted to trade in for a younger model, go figure! he's already greying but wants to prowl around college campuses for poor girls that don't know any better! i hope one of them cuts his eyes out when he breaks their heart. stupid gambling jerk, just wants eye candy when he's out on the tracks!"

"a younger model...?" yuuji mumbles, adjusting so to lean his cheek on his fist, "i didn't think he was that dumb."

"aw, you're a flatterer, huh?"

"no, really!" yuuji pushes up from the table, nearly knocking his cup over at the sudden movement, "you're amazing, if we got married i'd be on my knees every day to keep you around."

that declaration gives you pause. eyes widening and knees wiggling, "yuuji! you can't say that!"

"huh?! why not?" his tone is far, far from suave. eyebrows raised and palms splaying flat against the table, "what's so wrong with that? it's the truth."

"i'm over forty, yuuji..." you sigh, praying your disappointment is masked as exasperation. you're not even sure you should be trying to masquerade, this is yuuji!

he's your son's best friend. he's sweet. he's helpful. he's strong. he's half your age.

yuuji's eyes dart from your face, shining beneath the honeyglow oven light, down toward your pelvis, "what? does pussy retire or something?"

"woah!" you have half a mind to whack yuuji upside the head, "you definitely can't say that!"

"you're acting like being over forty is death," yuuji abandons the chair, circling the table until he's right in front of you, "i don't get that. megumi's dad, too. 'younger models' and stupid things i can't say. you're hot-blooded and breathing, aren't you?"

"yuuji..." your own gaze flicks upward, piercing through the ceiling to where your son sleeps, "you're megumi's best friend."

"so he'd be happy if i restored his mom's confidence, right?"

"i don't think..." you whisper, voice webbing off into a mere hum.

"i do," he counters.

yuuji draws his hand over your shoulder, the palm is clammy and his face is flushed: completely erradicating any mirage of calm. though when you don't push him away, he grows bolder. stepping further into your space and twitching into your shape, as if to push a thigh between your legs. a hand itching to cup your chest. lips urged against yours.

"hmm? the hell are you two doing down here?"

yuuji slips off as easily as he appeared, shouting, "planning your birthday!"

you shudder back against the table, both hands clutching the edge for support, "megumi! you're up!"

"woke up 'n' yuuji was gone..." he scratches through his wild hair, blinking at you two through a thick haze. examining your proximity, he narrows his lashes at you judgmentally, "what was he doing down here?"

"he said- "

you're cut off by yuuji launching back into megumi's side, slinging an arm around your son's shoulders, "we were planning something! for your birthday!"

megumi glares at his friend, eyes softening when he looks to you. he nods, "yeah, okay."

yuuji forcefully turns them both as you call up a sugary "goodnight, 'gumi!"

"'night, mom!"

yuuji coos, poking his friend's cheek, "what a softie."

"whatever," megumi shrugs the boy off, scoffing while leading them into his room -pausing just long enough to sock yuuji in the shoulder, "and stop trying to bang my mom, you fucking weirdo."

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time���I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[finniestoncrane]

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

[sentientgolfball]

Lessons

I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3051

Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence

Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.

“Look at just how fucking wet they are.” 

“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?” 

Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot

“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.” 

You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit. 

“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh. 

The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse. 

He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there. 

You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out. 

When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss’ grasp much to his chagrin. 

“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…” 

You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door 

“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets. 

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes 

“Can I taste them? Please?” 

“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.” 

Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat. 

“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.” 

Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still. 

“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.” 

You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him. 

“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval 

“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”

Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically. 

Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.” 

You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place. 

“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong. 

He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”

Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.” 

Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix. 

“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin. 

Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge. 

“Don’t stop. So fucking close.” 

Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again 

“Hands off.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities. 

“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip. 

Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there. 

“Find the thread and isolate it.” 

You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment. 

Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”

“Humans are easy.” He says quietly 

Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”

You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life. 

“You wanna stop just say the word.” 

You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving 

“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down. 

“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.

“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat. 

“Consider it your final exam then.”

Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole. 

“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off. 

Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan. 

“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. 

Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal. 

He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.

“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out. 

He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him. 

Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm. 

“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest. 

He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high. 

“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.

Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.” 

“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face. 

“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens. 

Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.” 

You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.

 “Swiss what the hell?!” 

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”

You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels. 

He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation. 

I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.

You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.

“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” 

Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.”  You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom. 

You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”

[meanbossart]

I gotta ask this has been rattling in my brain for a while.

How did your DU drow react when Astarion asked him for help with the ritual? What were his thoughts? Or was he simply like stop it, no, we aren't doing that. OH, How did you picture your Astarion and DU Drow react after he "died" and was brought back? I know that we don't really get that much dialogue or reaction from the companions when that happens (Praying they add something later down the line in another patch)

Again thank you for sharing your beautiful art and fanfic with all of us its so refreshing to see!!! :)

OHOHOHO I'm glad you asked. I feel like that first question is very revealing of DU drow's character and It was a fun moment to ponder upon, because I think much of his behavior might lead one to believe he would be willing to go along with whatever Astarion wants, instead of pushing back at all, at least on the surface.

There's two factors at play here - first, DU drow knows of his heritage at that point, and thanks to the blank-slate treatment of the tadpole he's gotten a brand new perspective on it by the time he learns of the truth. Prior to losing his memories, accepting the fate that Bhaal had bestowed onto him felt like a choice and the best thing that ever happened to him in life, a confirmation that he was special and destined for greatness instead of just damned to the lowly existence he had endured so far. After his brain is scrambled however, DU drow got a taste of what true freedom feels like while unburdened by his upbringing; he's strong, he's powerful, he's self-sufficient, he enjoys the fruits of his labor without appreciating what got him here - he does not feel like he needs Bhaal, and the fact he ever did is laughable at best and violating at worse. This leads him to abhor the idea of depending on higher power to succeed instead of just raising oneself up by their own merits, or abiding by any mentality where you take orders from a source.

So when Astarion speaks of ascension, and especially after he learns of the source of that power (Infernal magic) he's disillusioned by it. While his memories are still hazy, the situation still feels awfully familiar to him. He doesn't think Astarion needs that higher power because he doesn't, either, and to take it would surrendering to fear and giving away even more of his autonomy than he already has.

And if that sounds a little self centered and like he's missing some of the point, it's because he is. While DU drow has fallen in love with Astarion by that stage in the story and wants what's best for him (he actually entertains the idea of him ascending up to a point - he wants him to be happy) he still has a difficult time empathizing with others. Ascending feels like a bad choice, but he can only justify that feeling from his own, narrow perspective.

(I mused on about characterization for too long again. So more under the cut - the sky is blue the sun is hot etc.)

Then there's the uglier, far more vulnerable and knee-jerk reaction to it. Now that Bhaal is no longer his purpose in life or the gift he once felt it to be, Astarion has taken it's place. Bhaal needed DU drow, in his eyes, much like Astarion does now. And as much as the vampire might have told him that his feelings on the matter changed (and that he was no longer manipulating DU drow for his own ends alone) he can't fathom a reason to be kept around unless he continues to be needed. He has slotted himself as Astarion's protector and devotee, and a vampire lord does not sound like they need much of either.

As much as he would never admit to it, DU drow does not know a life where he doesn't pledge himself, body and soul, to another purpose. He seems like he's happy to barrel through life directionless, but he needs something that anchors him or he has an inexplicable feeling that something terrible will happen. And honestly, maybe he's right - for a man who loves killing, he has a much easier time applying some strategy to that desire as long as he's doing it to some an specific end. Without Astarion, he probably feels like his choices are to either submit to his hedonism entirely or just lie down and die.

I don't need to spell out that this is pure codependency at it's finest.

So, when Astarion asks for help to complete the ritual he is conflicted. He wants to do whatever Astarion wants, but his brain is setting off alarm bells that, if he acquiesces, this will be the end for them and for him. And whatever comes after is a terrifying void of nothing. While he loves Astarion and ultimately does the right choice in pleading with him to give up on this power, his motivations are far from selfless or pure, as much as DU drow may not yet realize it.

This is why, after everything takes place, and specially once he severs his connection to Bhaal and his mind clears a little further, DU drow would go on to grapple with a lot of guilt for taking this opportunity away from Astarion, as I have touched on in the fic and will continue to do so. He's happy to feel like he has a reason to be kept around, but the inevitable hurdles that Astarion must continue to face as a spawn are obviously painful to witness. This is why he dives full force into trying to "fix" his vampirism instead, following that.

NOW, FOR THE NEXT AND HOPEFULLY FAR BRIEFER ANSWER TO YOUR OTHER QUESTION (spoiler alert, it's not brief at all, god damn it):

Yeah everyone just standing around in that scene feels little weird LOL not that it took away too much from how dope a cutscene it was (I probably watched it with the attentiveness of a sport's fan witnessing a footbal game turning in the last 10 minutes of a match) but If I were to embellish it instead of just going with something like "everyone is shell-shocked and paralyzed", I would say Shadowheart is the first to rush over to see if there's anything at all she can do to help, and probably the first (and only, in that moment) to break down crying. I think she very quickly composes herself after he's brought back, tells him he gave her the scare of a fucking lifetime and that he's the luckiest idiot in all of the realms - but that she's glad he's back. No hugs for him though LOL

Astarion is pretty much the opposite, that he would stand there in shock feels kind of apt to me. Like, holy shit, what just happened? Did one of the only good things in my life really just get taken away in the blink of an eye? Am I just cursed to have everything snatched away from my hand as soon as I'm growing comfortable with it? Yes, of course I am. What else did I expect. When DU drow pops back up he's probably like "Oh yeah I knew it'd be fine" (plus the little Twee comment, that was very funny to me.) and DU drow is similarly going "Oh definitely, it was my plan all along to be killed and then resurrected by an ominous house-keeper skeleton this whole time. Anyway, smooch for a dead man?"

This... Clearly very traumatic little incident is probably addressed by them only later. He gets a kiss and a hug at camp and a very stern "if you do that shit again I'm raising you back up just to kill you myself" from Astarion and Shadowheart's just down to drink in celebration and drown her trauma away for now lmao.

OH YEAH AND GALE WAS ALSO THERE. There was a whole Gale debacle in my playthrough but, the TL;DR, is that especially towards the end of the game he was Not in the best of terms with DU drow. Still, I obviously think he's an empathetic person and had his own "oh shit" moment. I'd say he takes this opportunity to try extending a very sincere hand out to him later that day, both for his courage in defying a god and dumb-luck - which DU drow completely passes on like an asshole and just gives him a cold-shoulder about, leaving feeling even more dejected than he already was and probably further cementing his choice to pursue the crown of Karsus later, despite DU drow's disapproval. Good job buddy!

Thank you so much for the ask and for your lovely compliments!!! Sorry for writing you a dang ESSAY 😬

[whorefordean]

ghost of you || d.w

pairing-dean winchester x reader

wc-1.4k

tw-grief, angst, slight mentions of suicide, death, set in 15x20 (so dean is… yk), hallucinations i guess?, pet names (sweetheart is the main name used for reader)

a/n- my grandma passed away recently and i wrote this sorta as a way to cope. there is NO happy ending bc sometimes that’s just how things go. anywho pls enjoy <3

the bunker had never been so cold and quiet in the entire time you’d called it home. it was more welcoming on the first day you’d arrive, when the dust layered over all the furniture like a second skin, than it ever could be now.

you stood in the hallway staring at your bedroom door, unmoving, until your knees begged for mercy. when you finally caved, the wall caught you like an old friend. with tear stained cheeks and a blank expression, you slowly slid down even further. the solid concrete sent an uncomfortable chill through your cheek, but you couldn’t be bothered to move.

heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, but your eyes remained on the door. there was only one person it could be anyways since dean wasn’t coming back anytime soon. worn boots stopped directly in front of your line of vision, soon followed by a familiar face coming into view.

“you gotta get up, sweetheart,” sam’s voice broke the silence. your gaze flicked to meet his as the pet name spilled from his lips. rage settled on your tongue like a bad taste as the name rattled around in your brain.

“don’t call me that,” you seethed, raising your head up slightly before dropping it back to the ground. sam flinched at your words, dropping his gaze to the floor. you had once told him that you preferred the pet name over your actual name. because that’s what dean had called you, sam realized.

“you can’t lay here all day,” sam spoke gently. he reached out to rub your cheek in a soothing manner. your eyes flutter closed and for a moment, you could pretend it was dean again. tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of him. you had done well to keep your mind blank for a while, but the luxury of oblivion was disrupted too soon.

“i haven’t been here all day,” you mumbled mindlessly as you stared ahead.

“it’s been four hours,” sam points out carefully while placing a warm hand on your shoulder. you glance at him briefly to see tears in his eyes too.

“i can’t go to bed,” you mumble with a shrug. sam looks at you confused.

“why not?” he asks. sam watches as your face contorted in pain. his heart aches for you.

“because i can’t go to bed without dean,” you tell him. as the words slip from your mouth, a pained gasp claws it way from your throat leaving sam searching for any words to comfort you.

“he’d want you to be comfortable,” sam tries gently to coax you out of the floor. he flinches when you raise your voice.

“he wouldn’t want anything because he’s dead, sam! dean’s dead, and he’s never coming back! he’s gone, and i’m still here!” you shout, shifting to sit up. the emotions lacing your words cause sam to choke on his own sob.

“why do i have to be here, sam? i don’t wanna be here without him!” you continue your tangent. choking on a sob, you bury your face into your hands, knees tucked tightly into your chest.

“please, i don’t wanna be here!” you wail, staring at the ceiling now. sam tries to speak up if only to comfort you, but he stops short. your words feel like a punch to the gut as he realizes that the here you’re referencing isn’t the bunker. and you’re no longer speaking towards sam.

you’re begging the universe to kill you. you’re crying out to the angels. you’re calling out to jack - god - to put you out of your misery.

“i promised him,” sam starts, sitting down fully now. he crosses his longs legs, and sits directly in front of you. it’s your turn to look at him in confusion.

“what?” you ask, sniffling while wiping your tears. sam watches you with teary eyes, waiting for you to compose yourself. when your sniffling softens, he continues.

“dean made me promise not to let you fall apart. completely, at least,” sam tells you. i shake my head at his confession.

“i can’t do this sam. i can’t,” i whisper. my voice cracks as i look up at him. sam’s expression is one of pure pity. it feels selfish to have him comforting me. sam lost dean too, but he always knew how to get him back. something is… different this time. part of you knows that this is the end. there will be no miracle resurrection this time. this is how it ends for you and dean.

you can hear sam sigh and walk away, patting your leg gently before he goes. as his footsteps descend down the hallway, you lose yourself in the cracks of the wall. your mind drifts to dean, not that he’s actually left your thoughts since… the incident.

“come on, sweetheart,” you hear from your bedroom. you almost yell at sam to go away, but the voice is soothing, soft, as your eyes regain focus. the words roll off his tongue like smooth honey, warmth filling your heart.

“dean?” you speak up quietly as tears brim your eyes. you sit up quickly, staring at the cracked door in front of you. when you receive no answer, you stand up hesitantly, walking up to the door. your hand stutters over the handle before finally pushing it open completely.

the ache in your chest lessens as you stand in the threshold. your breath catches as you stare into the room. beside the bed, dean stands there, waiting for you with a warm smile. you stare at him in disbelief for a moment, not quite sure what to do. you know this isn’t real, but what if…

“you- you’re not real,” you mumble as you stare at dean. it looks like dean. it sounds like dean. and the way he’s staring at you… it feels like dean. the look of love in his eyes isn’t lost on you.

“i know,” is all he says. you look at him pained as he says that.

“then what are you?” you whisper, furrowing your eyebrows in sorrow. dean continues to smile at you gently. you can see the sadness in his expression as he watches you. dean opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. you watch him ponder on his answer for a few moments before he finally says something.

“i’m your peace, sweetheart. you know as well as i do that this is gonna be hard. i just need you to make it through tonight. if you can survive tonight, you’ll be okay,” dean promises. you look at him, almost angrily as he says this.

“what does that even mean? you’re dead, dean! i don’t- i don’t know what this is!” you try to argue, but you can feel your energy depleting quickly, though you hadn’t had much to begin with.

“i am dean. i’m your dean. do you trust me?” he asks softly. you stare at him for a moment, breathing heavily, before nodding slowly. dean nods once before speaking again.

“then i need you to lay down. you need to rest, sweetheart,” dean tells you gently. with teary eyes, you agree silently. dean’s shoulders visibly relax, and you can feel your own tension ease slightly. pulling the covers back, you slip into dean’s side of the bed.

dean encapsulates your senses as you drop your head onto his pillow. you are surrounded by him. his smell, his warmth, his love…

“dean,” his name falls from your lips easily. you can hear shuffling around you. the bed dips, at least, you think it does.

“i’m here,” he cooes soothingly. your hair ruffles, and you’re sure it’s dean playing with it. you sigh as you close your eyes.

“can you just stay here until i fall asleep?” you mumble sadly. in your heart, you know this isn’t real. you know it’s a sick game your mind has conjured in the wake of your grief. still, you let yourself lean into it. protection from your own mind is a survival instinct right now, and you’re not sure you’d manage without it.

“yea, sweetheart, i’ll stay. just until you fall asleep,” you hear him answer. his voice is barely audible as your thoughts begin to fade. the ache in your chest returns when it dawns on you that, even though he’s here tonight, dean will not be here when you wake. as much as you want to prolong the inevitable, your body forces you to submit further to sleep. you reach out to grasp his hand but meet the cold sheets instead. you ignore the pain in your chest and clutch at the blankets while allowing yourself to pretend it’s him.

“goodnight, dean,” you mumble softly.

“goodbye, sweetheart.”

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 7 thoughts

hmm. hmm. that is the sound if me pondering what i just watched.

(i understand that this episode was an analysis into mulder's self-destructive behaviors when faced with overwhelming grief, but. that does not mean i enjoyed vampire hookup time)

well. we shall start from the top!

i read that it was an episode about vampires which i thought was a weird narrative choice because. hello. scully still gone??? but then i remembered that i too ignored the main quest in skyrim to hunt some vampires and that i had no place to judge

(granted, my main quest wasn't finding scully though. might have given that a bit more priority than saving the whole world. because she IS my whole world)

we open with a guy that looks like joe biden meeting with an attractive young woman. they're making out in a hot tub and we just know someone is gonna get slurped upon. and woe, it be upon us! double vampire attack.

back in DC, mulder gets his old office back! it's covered in plastic. he takes some of it off. he adjusts his calendar from may to november, so we see how much time he and scully had been assigned to other tasks, which also has me wondering how she managed to get a new house that quick.

(also, this calendar is... scantily clad women posing next to tools such as hammers and saws. was this allowed? was this acceptable? was it normal? were the 90's a lawless wasteland and mulder an irreparable freak?)

well. scully is an x file now, and he puts her glasses and id into an evidence bag and closes the filing cabinet which was sooooo evil. but he can't bring himself to put her necklace away. oh man. oh he's gotta have it in case he finds her. he has to hold her close. i'm Fine this is Fine.

so. he goes out to california to deal with the joe biden looking fellow being murdered. and he is not wanted on the crime scene. we know this because someone greets him by saying "nobody called the bureau" and he says "well, they should have" and lifts up the tape to let himself in. because one thing about him is that he's gonna let himself into a place he isn't wanted.

he sees the writing of a bible verse in blood on the wall and says something about their grasp of biblical knowledge being "feeble and literal" and i was like okayyy need to have a theological discussion with him

he then scares the other guy who originally wanted to kick him out by reciting a LARGE amount of facts related to similar cases and it's very much giving photographic memory. got me thinking, have we ever seen this man forget something? (directions don't count. they're confusing. but everything else sticks in that man's brain)

he just needs one thing: a phone book. which he uses to call a blood bank and ask about a new guy. who must be the vampire who did this!

so he rolls up to the blood bank and i'm over here struggling because i do Not Do Blood, and i knew at this point this was gonna be a tough watch, but i didn't anticipate the non-blood related reasons why this would be true

anyway he's sniffing around the blood bank and he hears some slurping and wouldn't you know, this dude is tearing into a bag of the red stuff like it's a capri sun. somehow he gets him into custody, where the dude refuses to talk because the lights are on, and mulder comes in with a lamp he put a red filter over, because he was prepared for vampire interrogation.

the vampire is going on about how what he did isn't murder because it's not like animals hunting prey is murder which is. not the greatest approach in terms of legal defense. mulder tells the guard that the guy is delusional and it's best to play along, and he believed this to be true... until he, quite literally, burned to a crisp in the sunlight. and died.

he's talking to the coroner and rattling off a bunch of vampire facts and says he didn't believe in vampires which is so funny to me because like. why is that where you draw the line, my friend. not at bigfoot and definitely not at aliens. but man. vampires are just too out there for spooky mulder. until now!

the coroner has a very funny line: "you are really upsetting me... on several levels" which seems to be the general effect fox mulder has on people. and also because i felt the same way about his dumbass actions during this episode.

coroner finds a stamp on the dead body's hand, which seems to come from a nightclub. so naturally our fbi agent ends up there.

you often see posts saying that "(insert character here) should be at the club". i fear that this is not the case for fox mulder, but it's possible that it's his suit and tie that are throwing me off. he just doesn't seem like he belongs there. i ask myself, where should he be instead? perhaps some sort of star wars convention would suit him better. a book signing with some author he likes. idk, an interior decorating festival. not here.

i shall use my verbatim words to walk you through the next scene:

"pause. he's talking to a woman who was looking into a compact without a mirror. so. vampire suspect. and now why are they getting so close together. and getting a drink. okay now they're leaving to a new spot together? AFTER she admits to vampirism"

(here she did some stuff that required me to look away from my screen due to my Weak Constitution. but also it would have felt necessary to look away anyway because it was getting... charged)

she tries to get him to... suck on her finger... but he won't do it because aids. which is fair. i think that's a smart move, actually. it's just that getting flirty with a vampire he knows was involved with a ton of killings was such a stupid move, i don't know why it's now the braincells start to kick in.

that kills the vibe, though, so she gets another guy to take his place and things escalate.

mulder pulls in at a restaurant called ra. nice! the sun god! and he is... through a window, witnessing some more slurping action. he seems to want to intervene and save this poor soul being feasted upon...

but the poor soul is no poor soul at all! he comes out and decks mulder, and delivers this line with stunning conviction: "i don't know who you are, freak, but we're two consenting adults" and with this, he is forced to flee.

and yeah. it made me laugh. my expectations for the genre were subverted. he signed up for that shit! what he did not sign up for, however, was the next part, where he was killed by the other vampires.

cut to investigating the crime scene. mulder has brought along a forensic dentist, which is a job i had no idea you could go into. he needs to see about those bites, which are very human.

next they go to vampire woman's house. it's a very nice place. mulder... opens her oven. and sees a loaf of bread in there. and i'm thinking, man, i hope this doesn't go where i think it's going. baked goods... ovens... i never want a vampire pregnancy arc. but he cracks open the loaf and something red spills out and somehow, this to him means that she is gone and isn't coming back. he can read the signs of the bread. so add that to his resume. what did the bread tell you, my liege?

he seems to have stayed in her house, however, because he's there when she's back, and says he knows she was using the bread as a charm to ward off evil. because apparently that's an eastern european thing, blood bread to warn off evil. sound off if any eastern europeans in the chat wanna confirm or deny.

anyway. he's IN this woman he thinks is a vampire's HOUSE? what the hell. mulder seriously i need you to stop and think. like you should have stopped and done some thinking a while ago. honestly i'm not mad i'm just disappointed. and he's like "i want to save you come with me before they kill you" ohhh big tough man needs to save her huh. make him feel good inside. huh. certainly no ulterior motive here...

she's monologing about her horrible childhood and how sweet blood tastes. um girl. don't lie to him like that. i have busted my lip open before that stuff does NOT taste sweet and dangerous. it's like a penny with rust that you found in a parking lot.

it seems her vampiric origin story, if to be believed, is that things simply got too kinky. which is a new take on the genre.

(it's also about being caught in an abusive relationship and the damage that inflicts, but it seems abusive boyfriend came into vampirism at his kinky parties and things escalated from there. which. well. it blew the eyebrows clean off my head, to be fair)

at this point we see that he is WEARING SCULLY'S NECKLACE? he says something like "it's from someone i lost" and she says that she "hopes he finds her"

i did not like the undertones here and certainly not the overtones. because i knew where this was going. he was shaving in her bathroom. and let me tell you something: there is only ever a shaving scene in media because the writer needs a way to get some blood out of someone's body and into the real world. and man. i knew it was coming.

but what i didn't see coming was her SHAVING HIM??? girl. i am uncomfy. and she does, of course, cut him, and then they kiss. aggressively. terribly aggressively. can anyone answer what was going on in a satisfactory manner?

but the gag is: the original vampire- who burnt to a crisp in the jail cell, and was the abusive ex she spoke of- HE'S WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW!

he breaks in and taunts the vampire woman about how he had to "wait for her to finish" and i was like cool. thank you SO much for that mental image i'm super happy with it. i definitely don't feel like i need a shower. but then he's going on about how he can't be killed.

here, at the tail end of the episode, we learn the rules of vampirism in this world: a vampire cannot be killed by a non-vampire. and a non-vampire BECOMES a vampire by consuming the blood of a believer and also taking a life. it is only here we realize that this woman is not an actual vampire yet, she just appropriates their culture by drinking blood unnecessarily.

mulder's still sleeping in her bed and she's like "you need to leave" and she stabs the wall to make her evil ex think she's killing him. but when they go to break out, mulder ties him up quite handily and he gets in the car to escape with vampire woman. until ANOTHER vampire woman jumps on the hood of their car. and main vampire woman knocks her out for a bit by running into her with said car, which is super effective.

mulder's leaving the place in shambles, his shirt still unbuttoned, wandering down the side of the hill. back at the house, now that we know the vampire rules, main vampire woman says she can finally kill the evil vampire ex. and he's like how!! you haven't had the blood of a believer or taken a life. so. she licks the blood off her hands (unclear if it's hers or mulders tbh) and says she'll take her own life. and drops a match after pouring gasoline.

so. that brings that to an end. and shabby looking mulder sits on a hill as he learns all four in the house died.

the episode ends with him playing with scully's necklace. which i don't even sort of feel like unpacking right now but maybe another time.

probably not, though, because i just didn't like this episode. and yeah, a lot of it comes down to me not wanting to see mulder hook up with people who aren't scully. can you blame me? is it so wrong to have preferences in this world?

but also, narrative wise- do you honestly see the guy fucking off to cali while scully's still missing to deal with an unrelated problem instead of devoting every hour of his life to finding her, like we saw him do in the last episode? you expect me to think he just puts it off for a lil while? the guy who, just last episode, pulled his gun on the ski lift operator to get to the top where she might be a little faster, and then choked his one and only suspect out of fury? you're thinking this is the guy that's gonna go soak up some west coast rays?

and yeah, he was obviously not himself through the episode- very cold and analytical- but c'mon. we all want to bang a vampire. he's not special. i just personally wouldn't do that if my friend were gone. like how is that gonna help the situation. be so for real. time and place!

and also the whole only learning the rules of being a vampire about 5 minutes before they need it to be plot relevant. that annoyed me too.

overall, mulder, like i said, i'm not mad, just disappointed.

let me know what you thought on this episode- i try to not be a hater, but i also understand that hating in small doses can be good for the soul. if it's a widely beloathed episode i'll feel better in my judgement as i join a long tradition of haters who have come before me.

[grandlinedreams]

hi is it possible to request a good old (modern) coffee shop au with a little twist of law being a barista and reader being a regular customer….. like how he would ask them out in this situation and stuff like that

also i sure hope youre not tired of writing for the same character over and over again but damn you capture laws personality so well im jealous lmao

OH BLESS i love me a good coffeeshop au, they're always so cute :(( and i'm absolutely not tired of writing for Law, that man rattles around in my brain on the daily ㅡ I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!: coffeeshop!au, Shachi and Penguin being the worlds silliest guys, law is a little oblivious, fluff!]

"Oh look, it's your favorite customer."

Law doesn't like the sly look on Penguin's face, the grin that promises trouble even as Law turns at the chime of the little cluster of bells above the cafe door.

"Hey, [Name]!" Shachi greets you, and Law doesn't like the look on his face either.

"Hey guys," you say as you approach, fluffy white samoyed pressing into your side, tail swaying gently. "Hope you don't mind me bringing Bepo in."

"Nah," Shachi produces a treat from beneath the counter near the service case, kept tucked away for the occasional four legged visitors like Bepo. "You know we love him."

"Some of us love more than just Bepo," Penguin intones and Law's eyes flick to him and narrow in warning, but his coworker only grins.

"Okay..." Your tone is polite despite the confusion on your face, and you refocus on Law. "Could I get my regular, please?"

A small smile tugs at Law's lips, expression softening. "Sure."

There's snickering from behind him that makes him want to chuck the tip jar at the duo, but he resists in favor of waving off the little folded bundle of cash that you try to hand him. "On the house."

"Really?" Your head tilts. "Odd, wasn't it like that last time?" Law flinches, but you're still smiling, and he watches you drop the money into the tip jar. "I feel bad if I don't give something."

You pull away from the counter before he can protest, Bepo padding alongside you as you take your usual seat at the tiny couch tucked in the corner.

"Dude," Penguin intones from behind him, clapping him on the shoulder. "You are so whipped."

ㅡ

Law has watched you come in to the Polar cafe nearly every day for the last two months. It's hard not to develop a sense of camaraderie when you see someone that often, and despite his best efforts, he has to admit that it's shifted into a want for something more romantic towards you. The problem is, of course, that he has no idea how you feel.

Penguin and Shachi, having witnessed this go on for the last two months, are of the opinion that he's worried about nothing and that his feelings are mutual.

"Law, they come to this cafe every day and ask for you. They said you make the best latte."

"There's also like six other cafes closer than this one and they come here. Pretty sure they like you too."

Law still worries. He's gotten used to your company, enjoys it ㅡ he doesn't want to ruin what the two of you have if he's misreading things.

"When's my turn to get cute little foam animals in my stuff," Penguin whines as he watches Law do his best to shape little white ears into the foam.

"Gotta find someone who likes you, dude." Shachi dodges the halfhearted swipe from Penguin.

"There are plenty of people who like me."

"Online doesn't countㅡ"

"Shut up, both of you." Law cuts in, banter making it hard to focus on getting the eyes shaped right. Both men peer at the cup.

"Is that Bepo?"

"Looks more like a polar bear."

"Shut up."

He sets the cup down on the tray carefully before he snatches a napkin and a marker, bent over his work to keep the pair of troublemakers from seeing.

They watch him pick up the order and the napkin, and Penguin turns towards Shachi. "Five bucks says he's asking them out."

"No way, he's a chicken."

ㅡ

"Here you go," Law says, announcing his presence before he sets down the cup and you turn from where you'd been cooing over Bepo, eyes flicking to the cup.

"Oh," you say, "is that Bepo?" Law nods, nervous ㅡ and then you beam. "It's so cute, I almost don't want to drink it."

The real Bepo yawns beside you, watching Law with dark, round eyes before pillowing his head on your lap. He watched you reach for the napkin and his heart leaps ad he moves to leave.

"Excuse me," you call and he stills, turning on his heel to face you once more. Your expression is amused as you hold up the napkin that he'd carefully written his number on, along with the question he's been wanting to ask you for weeks. "Gonna ask me out and then run away before I answer? Seems pretty rude."

"Depends on your answer," he responds, and you laugh.

"I thought it'd have been obvious that I like you, Law." Your eyes gleam. "You're the only one who makes my drink and I come here to see you."

"Oh," Law says, and though Penguin and Shachi were right, he's not about to admit that. "So..."

"What time do you get off? We can talk about that date."

A smirk tugs at his lips. "I get off in five minutes."

You beam. "Perfect."

(A week later when Law finally tells Penguin and Shachi that he's leaving early for his second date with you, Penguin gleefully ends up five dollars richer.)

[lolitakirstein]

Hey Neighbor

Part one

Part two

Don't be a stranger

Those 4 words rattled in your brain as the days and weeks passed. You kept busy (and subtly avoided toji) by finishing up moving in and picking up a job at the local bookstore. The hours weren’t great but it kept you away from your house and your neighbor. Yes, you felt kinda shitty. He was only trying to be nice. But the look on his face as he purred, “Don’t be a stranger” with a smirk on his face made you ten times more intimidated by him. I can NOT get involved with him…wait he probably didn’t even mean it like that… I’m looking too much into it…still…no not I can’t do it. I don’t know him and he has a child I’m sure he’s not even interested. These thoughts consumed you. 

As much as you tried to avoid confrontation with toji, it was practically impossible seeing as your houses were so near. Luckily, the interactions were in passing, a quick wave. A smile from you…a smug grin from toji. It seems Mewsy wasn’t one to avoid them, you would catch her strolling across the yard between your houses when Megumi and Toji would arrive home in the evenings. Megumi would light up and giggle as she'd once again perform her act of rolling around. 

Although you avoid one one-on-one confrontation with Toji, you don't avoid…looking at him… especially when he is outside with the garage door open, music blaring as he does pull-ups in his make-shift gym. Sweat streams down his rippled abs that contract with each heavy breath. It makes your mouth go dry. God, what it would be like to lick up those chiseled muscles, to cling on to those broad shoulders as he'd thrust— stop no bad bad bad, you scold yourself every time you started fantasizing, shaking your head as if it was an etch-a-sketch and could erase the images. 

You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, the time would come that you would have to speak to him…and this evening seemed to be just that day. As you sit on your porch reading your book, Mewsy on your lap, you hear that sensuous voice that makes your knees quake. 

“Hey, neighbor.” toji stands at the bottom of your front porch steps. Megumi toddling up the stairs, excitedly, “Y/N!,” he climbs onto the wicker lover seat with you, Mewsy perking up and stretching. 

“Megs,” toji sighs, shaking his head. “You have to wait to be invited onto a girl's porch, son.”

“It's fine,” you say, patting megumi's leg as he settles beside you like. 

“How’ve you been,” toji asks, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Not seen ya much. You avoiding me?”

Shit! Was I that obvious?

“Oh…n–no just been trying to work as much as possible,” you stammer, wringing your hands in your lap. 

“I see, “ toji responds. 

“Yeah…” god, you wanted a hole to swallow you up, he clearly wasn’t convinced. “You can come sit if you want.” you try to change the subject. 

“Nah, we gotta get going I'm about to drop him off at my boss’s house while I run some errands out of town .”

What kind of boss watched their employee’s kids? You didn’t know it you were relieved or bummed that he couldn’t stay. 

“Ohh, dad let’s stay with y/n pleaseeee,” Megumi whined. 

“No bud we gotta go,” Toji replied firmly. 

“But Shiu’s house is so BORING, UGH” he groans.

“Ugh,” toji mocks. “You’re not even a teenager and already giving me such attitude.”

You can’t help but laugh at the back and forth, how similar the two were, how good of a father Toji seems to be….what a dilf.

“Blah blah blah,” Megumi teases, causing you to laugh harder.

“For real, Megs we gotta go. It won’t be for long. I promise.” Toji says. 

Megumi starts groaning, “But I wanna stay with y/n.”

“Im sure y/n has things to do.”

Megumi curls his little arms around yours, clinging to you.

“I don’t mind,” you suggest. “He can stay.”

“YAY!” Megumi cheers. 

“Y/N you don’t have to. I don’t want you to think I came over here just to drop him off on you,” toji stammers, clearly thrown off by your offer. 

You shrug. “I don’t have anything else to do. I’ve babysat before. As long as you trust me with him.”

“Well,” toji sighs, running his hand through his messy hair. “AS long as you ok with it. I won’t be back til after dark.”

“Thats fine,” you assure. 

Toji stalks up the porch steps, squatting in front of Megumi on the seat beside you. “Listen you, little man. Behave for y/n. I mean it. Do what she tells you to do.”

“Ugh ok dad,” megumi rolls his eyes.

“Again with the bratty attitude,” Toji sighs standing up before leaning forward, bracing one hand on the back of the seat by your face to kiss his son’s forehead. “Love you.” 

You swallow at the closeness, his scent dancing around you. Pure male a hint of aftershave. He reaches into his pocket, handing you a set of keys. 

“Here’s the house keys. It’ll be after his dinner before I get back and I doubt you have the right kinda dinosaur chicken nuggets for him to eat.” Toji laughs. “His bedtime is 9, but nothing strict.”

“OK,” you say. “Uhm what’s your number in case I need to contact you.”

“Ha, so this how I get your number, huh? My son. Jeez, he’s got more game than me.” he shakes his head, getting his phone out and swapping numbers with you. 

“I’ll text when I’m on my way back. Thanks for this,” he says as he makes his way off the porch towards his car parked on the side of the street. 

“Bye daddy!” megumi wave. 

You both watch as he speeds away. 

“So what do you wanna do megs,” you ask.

“Let's have fun!!!” he shouts. 

[writegoblin]

I have been severely craving my boy. No no, not Michael. Boseph uwu

Look at him. Unf.

Anyways.

Bo Sinclair Headcanons!

SFW

- You ended up in Ambrose because your car alignment decided it had enough of these off road shenanigans.

- Your reasons for being out that way, for story purposes, are running from your old life. All your old family and friends are shitty so you an conveniently disappear bc smthn smthn deus ex machina

- HOW you find out about your car alignment is another story. Let's just say, tumbling in a car is much more painful than it looks. What's worse is landing in a roadkill pit. Yeah boy. You know what time it is B)

- Lester almost shit himself when you came from over the highway. He thought you were dead and was going to call Vincent when you punched out the front seat. That's hot. Alright stranger, you're coming with me!

- He tries to clean you up and get your name. Takes you back to his place because he doesn't want to catch the twins off guard. But the day you spend there is lovely.

- You get the Ambrose and immediately shits off. Long story short, you become something of a live in maid. They can't kill you because it would be a lot of hassle on their end (another deus ex. You're related to a cop or something idk), and they COULD turn this situation around. Get use out of you.

- Bo likes how witty you are. You don't like to be bossed around which is clearly why you ran away from home (what are you, 10?)

- At first he's very callous to you and makes no effort to understand you. As far as he's concerned, you're another spoiled out of towner, just impeding on he and his brother's strange get rich scheme (more on that later. I'll explain in end notes.)

- What's worse is you're argumentative. Whenever he asks you to do something (read: yells at you), you always gotta talk back. You say funny stuff sometimes but it's annoying mostly. Vincent enjoys it much more than he does.

- You make nice with Vinny first. When you aren't forced to do chores, he lets you help him with the wax. Bo sees this and eventually realizes that while you are certainly mouthy, you are human with like hobbies and shit.

- He's a chef he's a gourmand

- He cooks for he and Vincent because Vincent, due to some brain damage, has a weird palette. So anything he makes either has way too much seasoning, or it tastes like cardboard. Bo on the other hand, grew up running around the streets of Baton Rogue with his friends after school. He KNOWS how to cook good.

- He's also good at first aid. The actual surgery and medical stuff is Vincent's wheelhouse but once you broke your arm trying to fix some shutters he told you to fix. He felt bad so he very gingerly fixed your arm. It healed really nicely but you'll never forget the way those blue eyes of his were so warm when he looked at you, touching the bend in your forearm and his voice, gentle as the day you first met went, "does it hurt?"

- Yeah but you looking at me like that bout to get me pregnant hurts worse sir

- As a boyfriend he's only jealous/protective around tourists. But as a dude in a town with a population of technically 3.5 if you count Lester's visits, he gets it. He does not mind his twin ogling you. He does not mind sharing EVENTUALLY. At first, he's very apprehensive.

- Bo's love language is physical touch. Even nonsexual touch is nice. He likes laying his head in your lap while yall watch TV and you rake your nails through his scalp gently.

- When he gets night terrors he likes to hold onto you in the dark like hope. He puts his face in your chest and he's almost like a little kid for a second. You have no choice but to coddle aw noooo aw man can't believe I have this hot sexy guy in my lap crying ohbhughghh

- If you're pear shaped? He loves your hips. Man, woman, ethereal creature, it don't matter. He was born an ass man he'll die an ass man.

- If you like star gazing, he'll listen to you rattle off about constellations. He likes listening to people ramble about unique special interests because it gives him a little taste of variety in his quiet life.

NSFW

- big. Thick. Cut.

- leftward pitch and he loves doing mating presses.

- much more inclined to rough sex (obviously)

- I do know he likely and unfortunately assaulted those ladies on the wall but in my HCs I like to think it was CNC instead. What stops him from doing the same here is you're too loud and mouthy, so the attraction is initially not there.

- As you soften up because of Vin though, and start opening up and smiling and being cute, he can't help but let his mind roam sometimes.

- Loves fantasizing you in different little costumes to dress up in. A visitor once visited and she was a cam girl! In your size! So lucky!

- please were garter belts this man will not be normal

- Loves intercurral. To punish you if he catches you masturbating, he'll fuck your thighs until he cuts, leaving you all hot and bothered.

- The basement does not come into equation until after the first time. And the first time is more of a gentle, romantic moment of vulnerability.

- Your first time was during a thunderstorm and you were telling him about your past and how so many people hurt you. Abused you. He felt so connected to you. You always held back your anger and he let you express it by throwing stuff and by the end of it you were a sobbing and screaming and laughing mess and he was standing in the debris and he saw himself and he reached out and kissed you in an attempt to ammend himself.

- When he made love to you that night, he decided your ass is never moving out sorry lol

- Exhibitionist. Likes to take you to Baton Rogue for little dates and fucks you in alleys and parks. The most exciting was a drive in theater he took you to where you gave him head. He fucked you in the wooded area outside after.

- PRIESTKINKPRIESTKINK

- Hahaha okay but what if you confessed and he fucked u in the confessional would that be crazy or what

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have a few HOW headcanons actually!

- the boys do the whole house of Wax thing in an attempt to get rich. Bo decided "oh I guess I could be mayor but hm no money here" and he rubbed two cells together and was like "WHAT IF WE MADE AN ATTRACTION THAT WAS THE BESTEST."

- tricked Vin into it cause "they're carrying Mom's legacy :(((( she'd love this trust me we're gonna expand the house into a town it'll be great."

- Lester's there cause he loves his brother's and is also admittedly a bit crazy himself. He's definitely tied a few people up and intimidated people, but that's not his usual job. He's too baby.

- Canonically, where Ambrose is located, it would be a roughly 30 min drive (or 2 hours I forgor lol) to Baton Rogue! So fun fact. They're Baton boys uwu

- I think even though Bo is a good cook, gumbo is Lester's wheelhouse cause he's just got that swagger to him. Like if I met Lester and he was like "do u want me to make you gumbo" I'd say yes, no hesitation.

[amazingmsme]

lee!richie with ler!jason is rattling around my brain right now </3

do you have any hc’s for the nighthawk sillies??

- ☁️

I absolutely LOVE the nighthawk sillies!!! Sorry these took so long, but life’s been crazy lol

Richie is still so shy & timid around the football team, so he acts much more reserved around them than he does with Pete & Ruth

Jason, being the captain of the team, is pretty in tune with his teammates’ emotions & quirks, so he can tell that Richie still kinda feels like an outcast because he keeps his distance from most of them & is clearly suppressing his true personality

He tries to subtly let him know that he can “relax” with them & that they’re all bros, & even tho Richie smiles & nods enthusiastically & says “yeah totally, for sure” Jason can tell there’s still that jock/nerd boundary that Max’s reign of terror instilled in everyone

While Kyle will mess around & play with Richie because he’s just a goofy guy, Jason goes out of his way to include Richie & tease him just like he would any other player

This fic over on wattpad has a chapter with Jason & Kyle teaming up on Richie & even tho it’s set during their Bully Era™️ it lines up so much with how I picture them & it makes me giddy

Once they’re actually friends, he’ll still poke fun at him, kinda like when he told him he fuckin’ stank & needs to hit the showers. Just looking out for him while still being a bit of an asshole about it (a loving one tho!)

Richie is still waaaay too nervous & skittish to try to get revenge for all their antics they pull. Jason is internally screaming because he just wants to see the nerd snap & cut loose with the team the way he’s seen him do with his friend group. Because when that happens, then Jason knows he’s done his job & Richie finally feels accepted

Kyle literally has to drag him into it & help wreck Jason after a game where they lost & he feels like it was his fault. Kyle was tickling him to cheer him up & Richie had the misfortune of walking by. Kyle grabbed his arm & pulled him down & before he could question it, he’s like “go for the hips, he’ll fucking scream” & Richie tried to back out, but Kyle isn’t having any of it, & spills all Jason’s worst spots to “make it easy” for him

Pretty sure I’ve mentioned Richie’s spots before somewhere, but I’ll be damned if I find the post, so if I say something that doesn’t match what I’ve previously said, that’s why. But I think his knees, ribs, ribs & feet would be his worst spots. The dude’s so boney & lanky, so obviously he’s gotta be crazy ticklish in those places

Jason’s worst spots are his thighs, belly, & armpits

Richie’s are his ribs, hips, knees & feet

[cosmicdream222]

Is there any way to persist properly because whenever I assume its working then my brain automatically shows that the reality isn't what I actually want (if you get what I mean)

When manifesting, the only thing you ever need to do is change your thoughts (or mindset/state of your prefer) to believe you can have something. It’s literally not any more complicated than that.

You don’t need to reprogram your subconscious mind, find blocks or get rid of limiting beliefs. Your subconscious, higher self or 4D self already knows you can have it, because you have it already. You’re the creator and can have whatever you want.

The anxieties, fears, worries, intrusive thoughts are not YOU. It’s a collection of other people’s BS assumptions rattling around in your mind that you have absorbed and believe are true. I call it the monkey mind, also known as the drunk monkey in some books.

The only thing you’re ever fighting against is the monkey mind. The monkey is stupid and limited, and just wants to drag you back into the old story. All you have to do is break the habit of listening to the monkey. When people say they’re being delulu or gaslighting themselves - they’re not truly gaslighting themselves, they’re gaslighting the monkey.

Now I know y’all are no strangers to spiraling, and spiraling is only ever a result of listening to the monkey and believing the old story again.

❌How to spiral❌

You: I have my dream life

Monkey: No you don’t

You: oh, you’re right, nothing’s changed

Monkey: See, I’m always right, you’re wrong.

You: Why don’t I have it yet? What am I doing wrong? Wahhh my life sucks. Why is manifesting so hard?

✅How to ignore the monkey✅

You: I have my dream life

Monkey: No you don’t

You: stfu, I have my dream life

Monkey: I don’t see it yet

You: Doesn’t matter, I have it already

Monkey: You’re wrong

You: No, you’re wrong. I have my dream life no matter what.

Keep doing it like you’re training a new puppy or rowdy bunch of preschoolers. Stop listening to the monkey and letting it pull you back into your old story. That’s all you gotta do to persist.

[amethystfairy1]

✨IM FREE✨

The horrors of higher academic hell are through for the summer! Considering I'm pursuing a masters degree I've still gotta do some work over the summer, but it's not nearly the load I pull during semester, and of course you know what that means?

FANFIC TIME

IF YOU THOUGHT I WROTE A LOT ALREADY

AGGGGGGGH I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS AND SO MUCH FEWER TIME CONSTRAINTS!!!

With this in mind, I wanted to toss a lil question out there to all of you wonderful lovely people who follow me over here and read my stories! I've been doing some slice-of-life stuff for Hermit-A-Day May, we've gotten two stories for TTSBC and one for TT so far. TTSBC lends itself very well to slice-of-life because I mean...it's just such a big world with a lot denser of a cast of characters when compared to TT. But I would love to know...

I have a feeling I know what the answer is here but I guess I just wanted to confirm it for myself because my brain is a constant ping-pong match of ideas rattling around a like pinball machine 😆 So I figure before I go off the deep end entirely I'd toss this out there!

Thanks as always for following my work!!! 💖