#I have one more ask which I will get to tomorrow

[cherrygirlfriend]

⟡ ₊ . ༄.° postcards under the bed

pairing: dean winchester x reader synopsis: how dean became a part of reader's little family. tags/warnings: fluff, fwb, reader has custody of her 5yo niece wc: 1k a/n; your girl was craving fluff!!!

dean winchester masterlist ♡

when you and dean first started going out, you knew that he was always traveling and never really stayed in one spot for too long, which was more than fine with you; you were too busy working and taking care of your niece for a proper relationship, anyway.

so, whenever the man came back to kansas and you managed to get a babysitter, the two of you would get tangled up in your bedsheets for a night. until things started changing.

what started as dean calling you up when he was back in town slowly turned into him texting you when he was gone, asking you how you were doing and telling you he couldn't wait to see you, coming over as soon as he was back in kansas.

what started as dean coming straight to your place and almost immediately taking you to bed slowly turned into pots and pans clanging in the kitchen as he cooked you dinner while you simply watched him with a glass of wine on your hand, the man telling you all about whatever monster him and his brother had been hunting while he made you his so-called specialty.

what started as dean leaving before you had even woken up slowly turned into waking up to his snores, spending lazy mornings tangled in each other's arms while the two of you talked about everything and nothing in hushed voices, exchanging small, nearly feather-light kisses.

he started bringing you postcards from all the places they'd travel to, the back of them filled with chicken scratches about what they were hunting, and although he always gave them to you in person, he made sure to write your name on the lines meant for your address with what was dean's attempt at cursive, the shoe box under your bed soon filled with postcards from different places.

neither of you called it what it was; when sam queried dean about where he'd disappear off to the moment they got back from their cases he'd mumble something about 'going to see someone', and when your friends wondered who was the guy picking you up from your girls' night in the black impala you'd just shrug and grin before making your way outside, straight into the arms of the man leaning against the car.

"i'm gonna have to cancel tonight." you said into your phone, using your shoulder to hold it up to your ear as you used your hands to decorate a bunch of cupcakes.

"what? aw, come on." dean's voice rang out, "i got popcorn and sour patch kids, and you finally agreed to watch terminator with me. are you bailing on me because of that? because if you really want to, we can watch one of your chick-flicks. again."

you let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes, a small smile now lingering on your lips, "it's not that. my sitter has a fever and had to cancel. so instead of our planned explicit date night i'm gonna be playing board games with aurora."

"ah, damn." dean sighed on the other line, "i really wanted to see you, sammy and i are probably gonna be back on the road tomorrow, we found some vamps up in duluth."

"i'm sorry." you say with your lips turned down in a slight frown, "let's take a raincheck, 'kay? i should go get rory, i finished decorating our cupcakes."

"oh? what cupcakes did you make?"

"red velvet. they're her favorite."

dean let out a small chuckle before humming, "hey, i was thinking... if it's not a girls-only night... maybe i could join you."

"really?" you raised your brows, "you wanna spend the evening playing monopoly with me and my niece rather than, i don't know, go to some bar and spend the evening with some hot chick?"

"i mean, you do have cupcakes. and board games are no fun with just two people."

you hummed, your lips pursed as you thought about his suggestion for a moment, before swallowing, "yeah. you can join."

after that evening, it seemed like things changed all over again.

dean no longer texted to ask you how you were, or to tell you how much he wanted to see you. he no longer cooked for you while you got to relax. you no longer woke up next to him. you didn't receive postcards addressed to you.

instead, he'd call you, checking in on you and aurora, saying how much he couldn't wait to see both of you again. he cooked for you while you were busy coloring with your niece. by the time you woke up, led zeppelin was blasting in the kitchen and the entire house smelled of pancakes, and when you got up, you'd see aurora dancing clumsily while dean was making pancakes. and the postcards were no longer addressed to you, but to you and aurora, and instead of ending up hidden under your bed, they were displayed on the fridge, until you no longer had enough magnets.

you were laid on dean's chest, your fingers drawing slight patterns on his skin, until his own hand came to stop you, bringing your hand to his warm lips, pressing a kiss on it.

"what are you thinking about?" he asked against your skin, and you looked up at him, wondering if you should tell dean what you were really thinking about or just brush him off. but the look in his eyes was reassuring, almost pleading you to tell him what was on your mind.

you took a deep breath before locking eyes with him, chewing on your lower lip, slightly anxious about what he was going to think.

"i don't think i can live without you."

dean's eyes widened slightly in surprise, before he let out a soft chuckle, the feeling of his breath on your hand causing shivers to run down your spine. he let go of your hand and moved his hand to your cheek, and you almost automatically brought your face closer to his.

"that's good, sweetheart, because i don't think i can live without you, either."

[so-i-did-this-thing]

You're the only person I know on Tumblr who I feel like I can send this ask so I hope this is ok.

I'm absolutely sick to my stomach terrified. People keep talking about not acquiescing early and to keep fighting and that's good but... I'm a trans person married to a trans person and we have a kid. We are so, so scared that we are going to lose our parental rights and have him taken away, even if he's biologically my partners. We are pretty fucking sure that the only way we could even possibly stay in the US and even possibly keep our family together is to detransition. But then we would still be queer, and I remember the 90s and how it was pretty recent that gay couples were considered unfit parents.

And this isn't us blowing things out of proportion, we have an education in politics so we've got a pretty good freaking idea about how bad things can and will get, but also we don't feel like we can afford to NOT take things extremely seriously. The worst case scenario is pretty horrific for us, so we've talked at lengthe about leaving the country. Which is it's own basket of heartbreaks because then there's a real chance we will never be able to come back. And I don't really feel like I can talk about it because a) the Internet doesn't feel safe to be trans on and b) there's been SO much chatter about how we need to stay and fight and people who can leave are privileged etc etc

I just... I'm scared and heartbroken and angry and I feel extremely hopeless. I guess I don't really have a question after all. I just needed to talk about it because it feels like not enough people are seeing this kind of true tragedy that could come from all this.

I wish there was actual help we could get. But there doesn't seem like there's anyone who can.

You're right, Anon - you're not blowing things out of proportion.

I want to say that I'm relieved in a sense that you are talking about where your lines in the sand are are and what you plan to do if they are crossed. There is hope and comfort to be found in a plan, even if it is a plan for the next generation's survival, instead of our own.

Every trans person needs to start thinking about real answers to the following questions:

What will I do if I'm fired tomorrow?

What will I do if I'm denied a loan? Housing?

What will I do if I lose my HRT?

What will I do if information about trans people is considered illegal to circulate?

What will I do if I I'm declared an unfit parent?

What will I do if my marriage is annulled?

What will I do if I'm declared unfit to own my own property or make my own legal decisions?

What will I do if I'm about to be arrested?

There are answers to all of these questions that aren't just "give up and die." But there's no one-size-fits all solution. People will have varying priorities based on how they see their role in fighting fascism and what resources they have access to.

Community is going to become incredibly important. Trans people have always existed. Sympathetic cis people have always existed. Trans people have always found ways to survive and even flourish, even though it often meant not being able to pursue their original dreams.

If you don't know where to begin with strengthening our community, the Trans Literature Preservation Project is a good place to get ideas. The virtual book burnings have already begun on .gov websites, so maybe doing a little preservation work will give you more hope that you're working to make a difference.

Because the work is important, even if the progress won't happen until after our time.

[zepskies]

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

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[sim0nril3y]

Oml I love your weighting style so much!!!!!

I have no idea if you’ve already done something’s like this but I think a cute little fluffy moment where reader is at the shop and one of Simon’s men run into her, they don’t know she’s daiting Simon and start flirting but soon realizes she’s Simon’s gf when he like calls or something!

Feel free not to do it but just putting it out there ❤️💗

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was such a fun request, thank you so much for requesting it! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), canon-typical swearing.

Your eyes lingered on the wall of spices and ingredients before you. Now, what was it that Simon had said to get? Was it ground cardamom or cardamom pods? Bugger, why hadn’t you been listening? Maybe it was because you were thoroughly distracted because Simon had just gotten out of the shower, standing there in all his nude glory, water trickling down his big burlychest…

Concentrate.

Now, he had said… oh, which one was it? Think. Think… think about his strong chest and broad shoulders… his tummy and that wonderful happy trail… the way his hair was all ruffled and wet. Fuck, you were so damn lucky-

“Is there a reason that you’re looking at that spice rack like you’re about to tackle it to the ground?” A charming tone came from beside you, glancing over to see a young man standing with basket in hand, handsome smile on his face, eyes filled with humour. “Do you find spices that offensive?” He quizzed.

“What? Oh, no…” A laugh sprung from your lips then, shaking your head. This man was unreasonably pretty, tall and an intense but welcoming gaze. “No, no… I’m just trying to remember what I need…” Then your eyes wandered back to that wall of spices again.

The man hummed and then said. “Ah, so you didn’t write it down?” He quizzed, stepping forward to be beside you. “Now, that is a problem cause… I mean, there are quite a few aren’t there…” The heavy dose of sarcasm to his tone made a laugh spring from your lips. “Luckily for you I am an absolute genius when it comes to spices, so I can help you out.” The way he grinned was bordering on cocky.

“Oh, my hero~” You replied back resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but he simply chuckled and returned back. “Well, some people call me that, but you call me-”

A curt tone came from behind you. “Private Stone.” You saw the fear that shocked through him then, clearly recognising the sound of Simon’s voice with far less affection that you did. “Lt. Riley.” He hiccupped back, standing a little straighter, face far less charmingly smiley now.

Just as Simon moved to be standing by your side his arm wrapped around your waist and the message was very clear to the young man. “I’m surprise to see you swanning around off base when you have you re-test tomorrow morning. I would have thought passing that might be more crucial than chatting up birds at the supermarket.” He watched the way the Private shook his head all too quickly and held up a firm hand in his direction. “I don’t want to hear it. You better make yourself scarce.”

It was only a moment later that the Private went rushing off down the aisle away from the two of them and Simon chuckled to himself as he stepped forward to pick up the cardamom pops from the row of spices, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” “You had far too much fun with that.” You smirked back to him.

“Maybe.” Simon answered, stepping over to wrapped his strong arms around you, forcing his hand into the back of your jean pocket and squeezing in a tender way. “I know a way we can have more fun. C’mon, we should get home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 30-01-2025

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[swagyalastorwife]

Marriage proposal!Hazbin hotel x reader part 1

Warning : mentions of valentino that's it

Author notes : hello everyone here is the headcanons following the vote you were so up for voting it made me really happy I hope you like the fanfiction and if you have another idea don't hesitate to tell me I will make all the requests and I will make a new vote tomorrow kisssss (^.^)❤️❤️❤️ i will do a part 2 whit other characters so tell me who you want

Charlie🌈

☆ Charlie the very day she laid eyes on you she knew you were the one she loves you so much you are everyone so yes from the start of the relationship she saw herself marrying you and spending her whole life by your side so the day she proposed to you was a beautiful day, the most beautiful day hell can offer she took you for a nice walk in the most beautiful places that hell has then she gets down on her knees takes out a small box and tells you" y/n do you want to make me the happiest woman in hell and marry me" depending on your answer she will be happy or destroyed please don't be mean to her

Vaggie ❌️

♧ omg she really really loves you more than anything she would be ready to DIE for you so yes she wants to make you hers then she will organize the most romantic romantic dinner possible and tell you "Y/n my love I have something to tell you "she will be a little hesitant at first but she will decide to ask you the question "will you marry me?"

Angel duuuust my babyyyy 🕸

♡ it took him a long time to admit that he loved you and even more time to be sure that he wants to spend the rest of his life by your side i mean with all the shit valentino puts him through it was hard to believe in love again so the evening he proposed to you was a surprisingly romantic evening he invited you to the restaurant made sure to be far from val then showed you some nice place he knew then as soon as he found the right one moment he said "hey baby you know I love you more than anything in the world you have always been there for me in the worst and in the good times and I want that to last for life so will you marry me"

Husk🍻

♤ husk was shocked himself when he discovered that he loved you i mean since when can he love someone the only thing that matters is these bottles of alcohol anyway when he saw you he didn't fall in love at first sight like in the films, not at all it was while getting to know you after your many evenings spent at the bar chatting so one of those evenings he said to you "hey my darling I was wondering finally I mean do you want to marry me??"

Alastor🦌❤️

¤ the radio demon in love seriously I mean it's impossible well that's what everyone said until the day alastor met you you piqued his curiosity from the first day you walked through the doors of the hotel since that day he never stopped courting you until you give in to these advances and agree to maintain a relationship with him so one evening he invited you for a romantic evening and he showed you so many beautiful things and you had the privilege of visiting for the first time the bagou which is in this room, it was at this moment that he asked you the question. question I want the drill, a dish of jambalaya the conditions are PERFECT then he tells you "Y/n you are everything to me the most beautiful thing I have ever seen since the beginning of my existence so will you give me the pleasure of becoming the person with whom the rest of my life would be spent"

Sir pentious🐍

○ our little baby snake fell in love with you from the first second he saw you you were the one he needed and these eggs were convinced so after multiple lame plans and embarrassing declarations you finally agreed to be with him however our little snake wanted more he wanted you to be the mother of these eggs so one evening with the help of these eggs he made you a magnificent declaration written on a banner: will you marry me you barely had time to understand that he arrived near you and opened the box containing the ring

Nifty❤️

■she fucking loves you I mean des is the only person who plays with her and who agrees to watch these shows yesssss she loves you so one evening she asked you like that "do you want to marry me" you were shocked I can tell you

Lucifer🦆

♡hoooo if you knew how he loves you he loves you more than you in the world you are the person who saved him from this depression who knew how to find the words to comfort him and help him move forward so yes he wants to marry you but not right away beginning I mean with the trauma of Lilith he is a little scared but with time these fears will disappear and he took his courage and organized a prestigious dinner I mean he and the kings of hell and the sin of hell pride then..... this statement was so magnificent and at the same time so intimate it tells you

"my dear y/n you were my lifeline in the most difficult moment of my life you were there for me when no one of the summer you were the person who gave me back my love and I intend to share my love with you so will you marry me"

Hope you like it and I hope to be invited to the wedding 🤨❤️❤️❤️❤️

[bestanimal]

I can’t believe it. We’re finally here. Round 3 starts tomorrow (2/1), with our first poll dropping at 8 am EST.

Some notes:

Round 3 will be our biggest round yet, and I have 227 polls scheduled. That’s almost a year’s worth of polls. It should be obvious that not every Order is going to make it to Round 4. So you’re going to need to be more choosy this round. Be honest. Come here with a plan. Do a bit of research. Know your favs. This next round is covering Animal Orders. If your favorite animal is a Great White Shark you need to know that it’s a Lamniform. So you should make sure you’re only voting fav in the Lamniformes poll and not fav in the other shark polls. You can still vote love or like in those polls; that’s what those options are there for. But this round is going to require a bit more focus if we want a diverse roundup next year! If you’re someone who votes favorite in every poll, try to pick just one or two favorites from each class we’re covering. I would actually love if we could have at least one representative from each class moving forward. (That being said, don’t be afraid to reflect it in your vote if the descriptions and propaganda have you discovering new favorites! I’m kinda hoping for that here too!)

I can not state enough that this tournament relies on numbers. If you want your fav to move forward you have to make sure people see it. Reblog, post propaganda, etc. If you don’t have a large following, reblog the poll anyway, add some GOOD propaganda onto it, and then chances are I’ll reblog it which increases the chances of it getting seen again. Get your friends involved. If you know someone that only blogs about squids, tag them! This tournament is all about PASSION.

I had some complaints last round about missing some polls. These polls are all pre-scheduled. They post once a day, at 8am EST, and they’re open for 7 days. If you click on the tag #/Animal Polls while within my blog, you can see every poll in one place. I recommend doing that every so often so you don’t miss any of them! You can also turn on notifications or follow the blog via rss (but that also means your gonna be seeing asks, extra propaganda, and poll results as well.) On top of that, I will post a schedule of every single poll at the bottom of this post, under the read more. If there are polls you absolutely do not want to miss, put them in your calendar!

That being said, there is ONE BIG CHANGE this round. I am removing the hate option. I put the dislike and hate options there as a fun little mechanic to strategize and steal points from other people but uh… I’m ngl, it’s starting to Hurt My Feelings. Whoopsie. The dislike option will remain but I feel like hate is a bit too strong of an option to include. The fact that dislike, neutral, and simply not voting already detract points from the total seems like enough. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Still, as always, this is just a silly Tumblr tournament that doesn’t really matter in the long run. Nothing’s going to happen to the animals that make it to the next round and nothing’s going to happen to the animals that don’t, we’re just trying to figure out the most popular animal on Tumblr. If your favorite doesn’t make it, that’s okay! If anything, that just makes it, and you, all the more unique! And if it does? Welcome! You’ve found your people!

Poll Schedule under the read more

(Warning: It Big)

Polls will post once a day at 8am US EST.

Chondrichthyes:

Carcharhiniformes - Feb 1

Lamniformes - Feb 2

Orectolobiformes - Feb 3

Heterodontiformes - Feb 4

Squaliformes - Feb 5

Squatiniformes - Feb 6

Pristiophoriformes - Feb 7

Hexanchiformes - Feb 8

Myliobatiformes - Feb 9

Rajiformes - Feb 10

Rhinopristiformes - Feb 11

Torpediniformes - Feb 12

Chimaeriformes - Feb 13

Chondrichthyes Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Feb 20

Mammalia:

Monotremata - Feb 21

Didelphimorphia - Feb 22

Paucituberculata - Feb 23

Microbiotheria - Feb 24

Dasyuromorphia - Feb 25

Peramelemorphia - Feb 26

Notoryctemorphia - Feb 27

Diprotodontia - Feb 28

Macroscelidea - Mar 1

Afrosoricida - Mar 2

Tubulidentata - Mar 3

Proboscidea - Mar 4

Hyracoidea - Mar 5

Sirenia - Mar 6

Cingulata - Mar 7

Pilosa - Mar 8

Scandentia - Mar 9

Dermoptera - Mar 10

Primates - Mar 11

Lagomorpha - Mar 12

Rodentia - Mar 13

Eulipotyphla - Mar 14

Chiroptera - Mar 15

Pholidota - Mar 16

Carnivora - Mar 17

Perissodactyla - Mar 18

Artiodactyla - Mar 19

Mammalia Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Mar 26

Reptilia:

(I just want to give a heads up that there’s going to be an explosion of birds within the reptile polls and that’s not my fault; birds are just a lot more diverse than the other reptiles and you can blame how they’re classified)

Rhynchocephalia - Mar 27

Squamata - Mar 28

Testudines - Mar 29

Crocodylia - Mar 30

Struthioniformes - Mar 31

Tinamiformes - Apr 1

Rheiformes - Apr 2

Apterygiformes - Apr 3

Casuariiformes - Apr 4

Galliformes - Apr 5

Anseriformes - Apr 6

Phoenicopteriformes - Apr 7

Podicipediformes - Apr 8

Columbiformes - Apr 9

Mesitornithiformes - Apr 10

Pterocliformes - Apr 11

Cuculiformes - Apr 12

Otidiformes - Apr 13

Musophagiformes - Apr 14

Opisthocomiformes - Apr 15

Gruiformes - Apr 16

Charadriiformes - Apr 17

Caprimulgiformes - Apr 18

Nyctibiiformes - Apr 19

Steatornithiformes - Apr 20

Podargiformes - Apr 21

Aegotheliformes - Apr 22

Apodiformes - Apr 23

Phaethontiformes - Apr 24

Eurypygiformes - Apr 25

Gaviiformes - Apr 26

Procellariiformes - Apr 27

Sphenisciformes - Apr 28

Ciconiiformes - Apr 29

Suliformes - Apr 30

Pelecaniformes - May 1

Strigiformes - May 2

Accipitriformes - May 3

Coliiformes - May 4

Leptosomiformes - May 5

Trogoniformes - May 6

Bucerotiformes - May 7

Coraciiformes - May 8

Piciformes - May 9

Cariamiformes - May 10

Falconiformes - May 11

Psittaciformes - May 12

Passeriformes - May 13

Reptilia Round-up and Mini Stat Post - May 20

Cephalopoda:

Nautilida - May 21

Bathyteuthida - May 22

Idiosepida - May 23

Myopsida - May 24

Oegopsida - May 25

Sepiida - May 26

Spirulida - May 27

Vampyromorphida - May 28

Octopoda - May 29

Lissamphibia:

Anura - May 30

Urodela - May 31

Gymnophiona - Jun 1

Cephalopoda and Lissamphibia Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Jun 8

Actinopterygii:

Polypteriformes - Jun 9

Acipenseriformes - Jun 10

Amiiformes - Jun 11

Lepisosteiformes - Jun 12

Elopiformes - Jun 13

Albuliformes - Jun 14

Notacanthiformes - Jun 15

Anguilliformes - Jun 16

Hiodontiformes - Jun 17

Osteoglossiformes - Jun 18

Clupeiformes - Jun 19

Alepocephaliformes - Jun 20

Gonorynchiformes - Jun 21

Cypriniformes - Jun 22

Gymnotiformes - Jun 23

Siluriformes - Jun 24

Characiformes - Jun 25

Lepidogalaxiiformes - Jun 26

Argentiniformes - Jun 27

Esociformes - Jun 28

Salmoniformes - Jun 29

Osmeriformes - Jun 30

Stomiiformes - Jul 1

Galaxiiformes - Jul 2

Ateleopodiformes - Jul 3

Aulopiformes - Jul 4

Myctophiformes - Jul 5

Lampriformes - Jul 6

Percopsiformes - Jul 7

Polymixiiformes - Jul 8

Zeiformes - Jul 9

Gadiformes - Jul 10

Stylephoriformes - Jul 11

Trachichthyiformes - Jul 12

Stephanoberyciformes - Jul 13

Beryciformes - Jul 14

Cetomimiformes - Jul 15

Ophidiiformes - Jul 16

Batrachoidiformes - Jul 17

Gobiiformes - Jul 18

Kurtiformes - Jul 19

Scombriformes - Jul 20

Syngnathiformes - Jul 21

Ovalentaria (note: includes Cichliformes, Blenniiformes, Gobiesociformes, Cyprinodontiformes, and many others. If you don’t see your fav on the list it’s probably in this clade. I had to use Ovalentaria as it includes some families with uncertain order) - Jul 22

Anabantiformes - Jul 23

Carangiformes - Jul 24

Synbranchiformes - Jul 25

Scorpaeniformes - Jul 26

Perciformes - Jul 27

Priacanthiformes - Jul 28

Pleuronectiformes - Jul 29

Centrarchiformes - Jul 30

Labriformes - Jul 31

Acropomatiformes - Aug 1

Acanthuriformes - Aug 2

Lophiiformes - Aug 3

Tetraodontiformes - Aug 4

Actinopterygii Round-up and “Mini” Stat Post - Aug 11

Malacostraca:

Anaspidacea - Aug 12

Bathynellacea - Aug 13

Amphipoda - Aug 14

Mictacea - Aug 15

Cumacea - Aug 16

Isopoda - Aug 17

Lophogastrida - Aug 18

Mysida - Aug 19

Spelaeogriphacea - Aug 20

Stygiomysida - Aug 21

Tanaidacea - Aug 22

Thermosbaenacea - Aug 23

Decapoda - Aug 24

Euphausiacea - Aug 25

Stomatopoda - Aug 26

Leptostraca - Aug 27

Malacostraca Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Sep 3

Arachnida:

Ricinulei - Sep 4

Xiphosura - Sep 5

Opiliones - Sep 6

Solifugae - Sep 7

Sarcoptiformes - Sep 8

Oribatida - Sep 9

Trombidiformes - Sep 10

Eriophyoidea - Sep 11

Endeostigmata - Sep 12

Ixodida - Sep 13

Holothyrida - Sep 14

Opilioacarida - Sep 15

Mesostigmata - Sep 16

Palpigradi - Sep 17

Scorpiones - Sep 18

Pseudoscorpiones - Sep 19

Amblypygi - Sep 20

Schizomida - Sep 21

Uropygi - Sep 22

Araneae - Sep 23

Arachnida Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Sep 30

Insecta:

Archaeognatha - Oct 1

Zygentoma - Oct 2

Ephemeroptera - Oct 3

Odonata - Oct 4

Zoraptera - Oct 5

Dermaptera - Oct 6

Plecoptera - Oct 7

Orthoptera - Oct 8

Grylloblattodea - Oct 9

Mantophasmatodea - Oct 10

Phasmatodea - Oct 11

Embioptera - Oct 12

Mantodea - Oct 13

Blattodea - Oct 14

Psocodea - Oct 15

Hemiptera - Oct 16

Thysanoptera - Oct 17

Hymenoptera - Oct 18

Strepsiptera - Oct 19

Coleoptera - Oct 20

Raphidioptera - Oct 21

Neuroptera - Oct 22

Megaloptera - Oct 23

Lepidoptera - Oct 24

Trichoptera - Oct 25

Diptera - Oct 26

Mecoptera - Oct 27

Siphonaptera - Oct 28

Insecta Round-up and Mini Stat Post - Nov 4

Actinistia:

Coelacanthiformes - Nov 5

Scyphozoa:

Coronatae - Nov 6

Rhizostomeae - Nov 7

Semaeostomeae - Nov 8

Eutardigrada:

Apochela - Nov 9

Parachela - Nov 10

Final Stat Post - Nov 18(ish)

[mightyneinrewatch]

FAQ

Someone pointed out to me that asks were turned off, oops... that has been fixed now. Feel free to ask me anything! If I don't respond right away, forgive me, I have a day job and must pay bills, but I'll at least check in once a week when I'm rewatching the episodes myself.

Just to answer a few questions I've gotten so far:

There is no need or obligation to tag spoilers. (With the sheer number of people here who will be repeat watchers, it will be impossible to avoid spoilers, and I don't want anyone policing anyone on what tags they use - I want everyone to have fun!)

If you WISH to tag spoilers as a courtesy to new watchers, I would suggest using #nein again spoilers just so we all know it's specifically spoilers for the rewatch. (And if you are a first time watcher, WELCOME! I hope you enjoy the ride! Please tell us your thoughts as we go!)

PLEASE keep negativity to a minimum, meaning if you dislike a particular ship or canon event or whatever, I would only ask that you keep it out of the #nein again tag? That tag is for sharing LOVE of this campaign, so similarly I would ask not to see too many comparisons to other campaigns. (I have no intent to actually police any of this or call anyone out, and this is also NOT a request for ANYONE ELSE to police it either. I can and will use the block button.)

I am currently queuing up posts with the episode links, which will go out one episode at a time every Sunday at 8:00 am Mountain Time for the US (which I believe is 10:00 am Eastern Time for the US, and that's as far as my knowledge of time zones go) This is not a "live watch" per se. Think of it more like a book club. We all have a whole week to watch the episode and chat about it. Set your own schedule, and of course PLEASE don't feel bad if you fall behind! If you have a bad week, it's COMPLETELY okay to just skip the episode for that week and catch the next one. Or take a break for a few months! Or if you get REALLY into it, you can watch ahead at your leisure. No one is grading you on how well you manage to keep up.

On a very cool note, I checked the follower count AND WE ARE SOMEHOW ALREADY AT OVER 200 FOLLOWERS??? MY GOD, THAT IS INCREDIBLE! Very happy to join you all on this journey!

Special thanks to @sethdomade for mentioning the idea of a "dracula daily" version of a Mighty Nein rewatch! (That I'm now realizing I basically hijacked the idea and didn't even ask them at all if that was okay, I AM SO SORRY, I guess I'm asking forgiveness instead of permission??)

Drop any other questions in the ask box, and I WILL SEE YOU ALL TOMORROW FOR EPISODE ONE!

[lov3darlings]

darlings thoughts, figureskater!reader (18+)

cw: slight angst, bashing other skater lol, multiple orgasms, crying, mean!lando

lando sighed as he puts away the guy equipment. "mate you good?" his trainer, jon asked. "yeah, just a lil tired. let's continue this tomorrow," lando says getting up and wrapping up the gym session. lately, you and him were getting into arguments about you not spending enough time with him. "lando, the olympics are so near i cannot slack off, like at all," you yelled at him earlier the week. and since then the entire house was silent. both of you giving each other silent treatment. unable to understand another.

he drove to your rink. you mentioned something about having practice with another male skater because you both were selected to do some gala show together. the said male skater was recently blowing up for his numerous attempts to keep up with you in terms of jumping quads. but obviously lacked the skating skills as you do.

"it's pure bullshit! i am sick of this. you can't even hold the edge for lutz." lando hears you yell. your coaches declare a small break. your fellow skater leaves the rink, "to get freash air," he said, taking the coaches with him. you lean against the boards, body hot from sweat and anger. lando does the same, from the other side of the board. "what happened to my good girl? yelling at everyone now are we huh?" he humms.

your head shots up at his voice. "baby," your immediately filling up with tears. lando moves to hug you over the boards. "i'm so sorry," you sniffled as he rubs your back. you squealed when he lifted you over the boards. "you don’t understand how angry i am right now," he says as you mumble a string of apologise in his ear. standing on your tip toe to reach his height, despite still being in your skates.

"how about sucking me off as an apology," he hums. lando lets out a chuckle as your hands reach the waistband of his pants. "darling we're at your ice rink," he says. "do you want them to hear you being such a slut?" he added, pulling you into a hug. them, in question being your male partner and your coaches. "i dont care who’s outside," you reply as the older man held you in his embrace

lando pulls you into a kiss, his hands caressing your neck as he kisses you. it wasn't a gentle kiss. it was rough, as if he was desperate for it. he kissed you like a parched man, as if your lips was the water he needed. he pulled away as the burning sensation in his lungs grew, saliva still connected to your lips. "i want to make a mess of you," he says, breathing heavily. his fingers running through your hair strands, pulling onto a few of them.

"he's terrible. can't even hold a deep fucking edge on a lutz," you complain making the man chuckle. "yeah i heard you. don't you worry you'll be twice loud when moaning my name."

lando was man true to his words. he did made a mess of you when he had you at his mercy on his bed. moaning his name, like it was some holy mantra, twice as loud you were yelling.

he placed his lips on yours. heated kisses, his hands on your bare skin, yours in his curly hair, lips nibbling, biting, moaning into his mouth. it was one of those kisses that left you heavily breathing after.

"where do you need the most huh baby?" he teased, despite know the answer very well.  you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and guiding him to where you desperately need him, your cunt. "fuck, you're soaking wet for me, baby," he says.

lando smirked as he maintained eye contact while he gathered the wetness from between your legs with his fingers and sucked it off a little with a satisfied hum. he bought his fingers to your lips "clean my fingers, this is your mess," he commanded.

lando moves down between your thighs. he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. your hands gripping on his curls. he groaned a little at the soft touch. his tongue moving in circles as you pushed yourself closer to his face, practically begging him for more.

which was exactly what he was giving you. pushing two finger inside you. his lips and tongue slurping, sucking, and licking at your clit. you eyes rolled back as he pulled, what? thrid orgasm from you. lando makes sure to lick you clean but saves some of your cum. "fuck, sweetheart," he groans, smearing the save cum all over his lips, breathing heavy, and lean up to kiss you with it.

"suck on it." he commands, leaving you suck whatever was left on his fingers. "good girl," he praised. lando doesn't give you another moment to ride down your high as he inserts his cock in your cunt. "lando wait—" you whined. "take it like a good girl and stop whining," he barks.

lando didn't move. instead he started kissing down every inch of your body he possibly can, murmuring against your skin how beautiful you are, showing how much he loves you. but it wasn't the time. you were far to needy for the man. "if you want something, you have to use your words," he mummrs.

"baby please, please, please, please fuck me, please," you whined. and that's all it take to get lando started, after all how can he ignore such a pretty angel who was warming his cock and begging for it. he rocked his hips in you with such pace that you saw stars, groaning and cursing in your ear.

your nails started scracthed his back again. lando hissed as you accidentally drew blood. he held your both wrists with his one hand. arms over your head, mouth gaping while he groaned, pressing and thrusting themselves up into you. "just, like that, oh.. god," you mumble.

something that lando knew about you was that you often teared up as you reached your fourth orgasm. "gonna cry? go ahead cry f'me baby. let me see it," he said as the tear works starts flowing. he knew that you were sobbing not because it hurt. but because his cock was kissing the softest parts of you

lando laughed at you as more tear drop fell. he actually fucking laughed. the sound had you squeezing his cock harder, and lando only laughed harder, his laugh mocking you. "tu, tu, tu, such a cry baby," he says wiping your tears. feeling cocky that he made such mess of you.

"oh—fuckfuck—lando," you gasped as you came around his cock. "oh my god—lan! it's too much!" you babbled, but lando only jutted his bottom lip out in a mocking pout. he loved you, truly he did, but there was a thrill he got from seeing you cry. cheeks puffy and wet with your trembling, parted lips. it was his favourite sight. "so pretty when you cry," he groaned as he finished in you. using his fingers to stuff his cum back in you.

"come 're," he says pulling you in his embrace, falling next to you. his fingers traveled down to your swollen cunt. "lan—too sensitive," you curled up to him as he fingers you at a tortures slow pace. "you've been too good for me tonight darling, just a lil more," he whispers.

"oh gosh," you sobbed on his chest as you feel your orgasm take over you. lando inserted another finger in you making you latch onto him tighter. "so pretty, so obedient," he praised. "that's it, there we go," he says as you cum all over his fingers again. lando pulled out his fingers from you with a faint pop. sucking on your cum that coated his fingers.

he then kissed you making you taste yourself on his lips. "so pretty for me," he muttered placing a soft kiss on your forehead. lando looked down at you, "i love you," he whispered. you smiled, feeling butterflies for the man next to you. "i love you too," you pecked his lips making him smile.

[ssstarlighttt]

INTRODUCING MY NEWEST PROJECT: CUPID’S ARROWS.

so, you may have seen some crypticish posts from me, teasing something big things in the future, asking for beta readers, etc etc. well, i’m proud to say that it’s come to the point where i can talk about it. part of it, at least. as many of you know, my last multi-chapter project was address me, your majesty, which was finished over a year ago. it’s time for something new!

this was supposed to be an event for valentine’s day, where i posted 14 fics of 14 different ships, starting at the beginning of the month and leading to to the holiday. little did i know, i would somehow fail to realize that writing 14 fics in one month is not humanly possible.

so, here’s the rundown. i currently have the first fic done, and i’ll be uploading it tomorrow. for the rest of however long it takes, i’ll be posting the other thirteen fics. each one features a pair assigned to a random prompt from this list.

this has been in the works for a few months now and despite not getting as much done after making this way more ambitious than i need it to be, i really am proud of the result. hope you all enjoy it as much as i do :)

[corvus-ix]

Restricted Player

Sung Jinwoo x Player 1 Reader

Part 1 - First Meeting

It was another low-rank gate raid and another opportunity to test my potions, now with improvements

"I hope this batch works better... and doesn’t feel like poison going down"

I muttered under my breath, adjusting the straps of my gear

As I double-checked everything, I overheard some of the hunters talking about an E-Rank Hunter. Something about being unusually weak, I didn’t pay much attention since it wasn’t my business

~~~~

"Hunter Sung! Are you alright?!"

I call out as I rush to him to meet with Hunter Sung with a dagger of a goblin impaled in his torso

"You remember-"

"Of course I remember!—"

I snapped

"Not remembering the names of my raid party members would be irresponsible!"

I tossed a few potions toward the other hunters, the bottles clinking against the ground floor. As I pulled out a green bottle from my bag, I yelled out instructions

"Everyone who’s exhausted, take the orange bottle! And for those who are heavily injured, take the green one!"

"Wait! Hunter NAME-"

I ignore the other Hunters who were calling out to me, some of them grabbed the bottle and drank it, their eyes widening in surprise as they felt the effects and they return to fight off the remaining goblins

Turning back to Hunter Sung, I crouched down beside him

"Hunter Sung I need you to trust me, on the count of three, drink this entire potion. Got it?"

I instruct as I hand him the open bottle and wrap my hand on the dagger, he reach out for the bottle with a trembling hand and give me nod

"Ready... one... two—"

"HUNTER LASTNAME! LOOK OUT—"

"THREE!!!"

I yelled as I yank the dagger out of Hunter Sung and immediately throw it at the goblin running towards our direction, hitting it violently at its throat as Hunter Sung screamed but push through the sudden pain and chug down the potion

The effect was immediate as the open wound where the dagger was begin to close and his other injury heal up as well

I sign in relief and slump down

"Save your thanks, we still have to defeat all the remaining-"

I stop mid sentence as I look around and all of the goblins are dead and the hunters are busy looting the place, I sigh again as I sat up and collect the empty bottles

"Um... Hunter LASTNAME-"

"Sorry Hunter Sung, I'm too stressed right now—"

I hand him a card with my Hunter phone number

"If there's any concern you like to address, call with this number tomorrow"

I finished saying as I went to collect my fair share of the loot

~~~~

A phone ring echo through the dimly workshop, waking up a sleep deprived Hunter. Picking up the ringing phone

"Hunter LASTNAME NAME speaking. May I help you with something?"

"Hunter LASTNAME! This is Hunter Sung, I was wondering if I ask about the potions...?"

There were hesitate in Hunter Sung voice, but I have an feeling what's he might ask.

So I answer him bluntly

"If you want more potions or gears from me, you either have to pay or work for me and—"

I let out a sigh

"And if you’re hoping for a potion to cure an illness for a non-awaken… don’t get your hopes up. They’d likely suffer potion poisoning"

There was a long silent on the other side of the line, I was about to hang up when

"Hunter LASTNAME... I might be asking much, but are you sure about—"

"No. There’s an incredibly small chance potion poisoning could force someone to awaken, but it’s a one-in-a-hundred situation, the person will mostly suffer a sudden shock because of the sudden change in their body, they cannot physically withstand both the sudden effect and a complete foreign substance and let's not forget the mana and dungeon materials of said substance contain, which more likely will act as a poison than a cure for the non-awaken"

I ramble hoping to deter him from asking more

It was always the same. I’d help people, and some of them ask for more, either for themselves, for their friends, for their families. Some grew demanding, even violent, refusing to understand the underline of all of it

"What if I help?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, help... You know, help you someway, either gathering needed materials or a test subject....?"

I remain silent for a good while before I start to laugh

"Are you sure Hunter Sung?"

I ask, trying to comprehend his thoughts

"I mean, I did ask around about you... And I heard your been working on a potion that will help non-awakened people"

"Are you sure your source are legit? If I did what your saying, I'll be putting doctors and nurses out of business"

"I know. But from what I heard, it’s meant to be a last-ditch effort in emergency situation"

I smile at his stubbornness

"Congratulations Hunter Sung Jinwoo, you're now my official genie pig"

"Wha—"

"Since your a E rank, your more close to a ordinary non-awaken citizen yet won't suffer from potion poisoning... much I think?

But since your a hunter, your body already have mana so you don't have to worry much about—"

I continue to rumble on as I continue to explain everything to Hunter Sung, I heard a sigh from the other side of the line but since he haven't hang up yet I continue to explain and brought up a potential contract between us

~~~~

The day after that stressful raid is the day when Hunter Sung Jinwoo become my genie pig for my projects since he did suggest it himself and haven't turn it down when I gave him the chance

I let out a small laugh at the memory as I read through Jinwoo report about my new potions and a few suggestions at the end

~~~~

[ Player 1 █████ has successfully completed the random quest event ! ]

[ 50 EXP given ]

I just sigh in relief seeing the notification pop up, convincing NAME was easy this time because the quest requirements and their current plan align

"We’ve come a long way since that first dungeon raid"

I murmured, tilting an empty potion bottle in my hand

"And there’s still so much ahead for both of us"

I paused, looking at the system in front of me

"Sometimes I wish your system wasn’t so restrictive..."

I said softly, smiling wishfully

"It’d be nice if we could face what’s coming together as players"

[junixscribble]

Hexbug TM

Once again blame the server. I have no excuses for this one.

(Arcane lore + LOL Machine Herald)

Title: Hexbug TM

WC: 2029w

Summary: Jayce's constant need for revenge manifests itself into ingenuity. Very unfortunately for Viktor, Jayce has his sights set dead square on him.

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

Ever since setting up shop with the Machine Herald, Jayce had been getting in a few more fights. Not to the extent of his previous position as the Defender of Tomorrow (who according to the Piltover Press was on sabbatical) but more petty spats with chempunks. He had to admit that a couple of these had been started on purpose, much to Viktor’s chagrin. Viktor, in his high and mighty Herald-ness, thought petty fights were beneath him. Which is why it was such a surprise for Jayce when he walked with his arm half torn off and a hole in his side. 

“Hey, V- holy fuck! What happened?” Jayce rushed over, taking some of the weight off Viktor’s dead arm from him. 

“Some idiot decided to try and scam a child. I stepped in.”

“What’s this I hear from Mr No Unnecessary Fighting?” Jayce couldn’t help but tease, even if the hexclaw singed his hair for it. 

“This fight was necessary. Are you going to help, or stand there?” 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get pissy. Wow, they really did a number on you huh?”

He poked into the mess of wiring that was the cavern in Viktor’s side and he squirmed away. 

“Stop that. Get me over to the table.”

The table was the one in the corner, kept clear and reserved for when one of them fucked up so badly they had to be put back together. Normally it was Jayce on the table. Viktor hauled himself up onto the table and unclasped his mask, tossing it to the side. His face was contorted in discomfort - while his modifications dulled pain, it could not remove it completely. 

“How does it look?” He asked Jayce, his tone betraying his anxiety. Jayce peered at the arm, and then into his side. 

“Hmm. The arm is only torn at the hinge, and none of the wiring broke so that will be an easy enough fix. You’ve demolished some plates on your ribs and the wiring is a mess so that will need a little more time. Jeez, what did they hit you with?”

“Death ray.” 

Jayce gave Viktor a deadpan look and Viktor raised his eyebrows. “It was purple.”

“Sure. Anyway, let's get this armour off and get you fixed.”

Once the armour was off and Viktor had laid down, Jayce pulled out a box lovingly labelled as ‘Vik’s Robo Parts’ and got to work. They kept up conversation the whole time, and Viktor admitted it took him longer to get back because he wanted to make sure the kid was looked after. Jayce should have expected as much - for the stubborn front he put up, Viktor sure had a soft spot for children. 

It took about an hour and a half of work to fix everything back up, not without complaints from Viktor.

“You’re soldering that wrong, I can feel it.”

“No, I’m not. I’m soldering it my way, which is the correct way and not your weird version.”

“Mine is superior and holds stronger. Redo it.”

Jayce sat back and put the soldering iron in its stand. “Do you want me to get the cattle prod while you're immobile here?”

Viktor glared, but couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks. They had recently discovered that powerful electricity had a very different effect on Viktor than it did Jayce. It turns out that when you shock someone who has partially metal nerves, it tickles like hell. Jayce had used this incessantly when Viktor was being annoying and it pissed him off to no end, never mind the fact that Viktor himself had a bad habit of using the hexclaw to torment Jayce. When he was the victim, it was a hate crime in his eyes. 

“If you do, I will put that fun powder I made in a random set of your socks and wait for you to put them on.”

Now it was Jayce’s turn to blush. The powder referenced was an accidental concoction of Viktor’s that made the victim ridiculously sensitive to any form of touch. Getting the stuff off was bad enough, but the fastest way to dissolve the effects was to provide… certain stimulation. This war between the two had been going on for months, and at this point Viktor was winning.

Viktor huffed out a smug laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

Jayce gave him a weary look and went back to screwing the plates into Viktor’s side. He kept his face schooled as he carefully slipped a small disc under the panel without Viktor’s knowledge before screwing it closed. 

“Well, there you go. Good as new.” Jayce stood and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. 

Viktor powered half his body back on with an audible whirr, flexing his arm and feeling hte plating on his ribs. 

“Decent.”

“Just decent?”

Viktor groaned. “What do you want from me? ‘Oh Jayce, it’s the most wonderful repair ever! However may I thank you, big strong beefcake who has come to save me?’”

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh at Viktor’s ridiculous impression of himself. “Well I don’t know, that could be nice. Being called a beefcake is a plus.”

Jayce flexed his arms in jest and Viktor recoiled. 

“Forget it, I am never speaking to you again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“This time, I do.”

In the week following life went on as usual, and while Viktor did have to stitch up Jayce’s leg after someone decided to run at him with a knife it was uneventful. Which is the perfect environment for them to start pissing each other off. This time Viktor had left blueprints all over Jayce’s workstation. 

“Viktor, is it seriously that difficult to pick up after yourself?”

Viktor shrugged, not even looking at him. “My lab, my space.”

“Which you are currently sharing.”

“What did I just say? My lab.”

Jayce huffed, stashing the blueprints into the box they came out of. “You are a problem.”

“Oh, I’m a problem now? I wasn’t a problem when you ran into a knife two days ago. I even gave you lidocaine.” 

“You’re like if a tin can could speak and it was bad.”

Viktor turned to throw a piece of chalk at his head. It missed, so he turned back to his board with a grumble and realised he had in fact just thrown his last piece of chalk. Jayce could almost see the steam rising off his shoulders. 

“Jayce. My chalk, if you please.”

“Hmm… no.”

“What?”

Jayce laughed at the slightly dumbfounded look on Viktor’s face. “You chuck chalk at my face and expect me to give it back?”

Viktor started striding across the room towards him. “Motherfucker I am going to strap you down to a table and make you feel torture like you’ve never known.”

“Not if I get there first.”

Jayce jammed a hand in his pocket and closed it around a small remote, flicking the switch on the side and turning the knob up three clicks of the seven that were on it. Viktor stopped in his tracks and shrieked, falling to his knees and clawing at his side as a loud zapping noise started. He tried to speak, but Jayce turned the dial up another level and Viktor keeled over on his side, laughing. 

“JAHAYCE!”

Jayce turned the dial down to one, watching Viktor giggle and catch his breath. 

“Whahat did you dohoho?” 

“Hexbug.” Jayce said, turning the dial up and down again and making Viktor cackle. 

“Ehehe… elaborahate!”

“I made it! I took a cattle prod apart and made a little bug out of it. It can emit the same shocks that the prod does. Cool, right?”

“NohohOT COOL! Why- ahaha! Why is it insihide me?” 

“I put it there.” Jayce played with the dial, turning it up and down for fun. “And it means I can do this.”

Jayce placed his thumb on a joystick and Viktor felt something inside him move. The awful ticklish feeling was centred over a spot on his ribs, but that was now rapidly crawling down his side. The current stopped and Viktor felt tiny legs latching onto the wiring in his chest and crawling around. Viktor barely held back a yell as he fell backward onto the floor, kicking uncontrollably. Jayce knew the wires he was messing with connected to his nerves. At least if it was maintenance he could smack away his hands but this? He couldn’t exactly rip apart his own chest, no matter how badly it tickled. 

“JAHAYCE YOHOU AHAHASSHOLE!”

“Aw, does that tickle?”

The bug burrowed into a section of wiring near his spine and zapped again, making Viktor jolt. Jayce noticed the reaction and sent the bug on a fast paced adventure of his internal wiring, zapping at random intervals. This very quickly dissolved Viktor into a squirmy, hysterical mess. 

Jayce watched the carnage with a grin, turning down the voltage and piloting the little bug up Viktor’s spine until it was sitting near his central nervous controls. Viktor’s eyes widened when he felt the bug step onto the motherboard. 

“Jayce- Jahayce I don’t think you realise what this will do to me-”

“Really? Cause I think it’s gonna tickle really badly.”

The bug walked fully onto the board and Viktor made a choked noise, half a laugh in his throat already. 

“I wanna see what each voltage does here.”

 “Jayce, no!”

“Why? Is it gonna tickle?” 

Viktor felt the bug electrify and the popping noise started, along with what felt like a gentle, unbearable tickle throughout all the metal parts of his body. 

“Shihit! Ihit’s everywhehere!”

Jayce lit up like the sun, and Viktor knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. “Wait, that translates to all the augmentations?” 

Viktor didn’t confirm, and he didn’t need to. 

“So what you’re saying is if I turn this up here it’s going to tickle all over?”

Jayce turned the dial up to level two, and he broke.

“YEHES!” 

Jayce leaned in with a grin. “Good.” 

The dial turned up to three, and then four. Viktor screamed. 

“Four… five…”

“PLEHEHEASE AHAHAHA!”

“Six…” 

“IHIT TIHIHICKLES!” 

“Aaaand seven!” Jayce counted through all the levels, paying close attention to how Viktor reacted with each one. At the highest level he could see the electricity arcing over Viktor’s body while the man thrashed on the floor, completely lost in his own frenzied laughter. Jayce let him sit through the torture for a few seconds before turning the dial back to zero and switching the remote off. 

Viktor curled into a ball on the ground, still giggling at the last zaps of the current. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“...how do you THINK?” Viktor spat, sitting up. His hair was a tousled mess and his face was flushed adorably. “You just tickled me from the inside! I didn’t even know that could be fucking done!” 

Jayce felt a little bad. Just a little. “If you hop on the table I’ll remove the bug.” 

Viktor heaved for breath and held out a hand to stop. “No, no, just leave it. I can’t be bothered going through the rigmarole. I do ask that you don’t leave it directly over my nervous system though.” 

“Oh!” Jayce started, turning on the remote again. The bug took a step and Viktor arched his back, squeaking. 

“Ah, sorry. Heh. This will tickle.” 

He carefully drove the bug down to Viktor’s side while his partner tittered, placing it somewhere he could easily access the next time Viktor took himself apart. Jayce turned off the remote and placed it on his desk. 

“You deserved that.” 

Jayce got a hexclaw middle finger in response. Viktor stood and brushed himself off.

“I hate to admit it, but I do have to hand it to you. I did not see that one coming.” 

Jayce beamed with pride, and Viktor caught his expression with narrowed eyes. 

“This is not something to celebrate, Jayce. See, now I must one up you. Prepare yourself.” 

Viktor picked up his thrown chalk and went back to his equation, leaving Jayce sweating by the desk. He had just hammered in the final nail of his own coffin. 

[tkwrites]

I've been trying to clear out my camera roll these past few days. I've got a habit of screenshotting things to remind me to go back when I have time to actually read it. I came across a bunch of bts asks you answered, which I'm a sucker for!

If you have the time or want a break from whatever you are working on now, I'd love to know any initial thoughts or a directors cut/thoughts you'd like to share. For any of your works that you've not previously shared about, the list is probably quite long, so a lucky dip of sorts 🥰

I've had this in my inbox for a while now, but I wasn't sure what behind the scenes to give you.

As I was working on Hawaii today, I was looking through an old document so I could pull some ideas into the new plot and I remembered something about Five Days of Joy.

That entire family reunion fic bloomed from two scenes: Sarah and Quinn making out on the couch, and the first time he sees her in her black bikini. The black bikini scene was originally a flashback in the Hawaii snapshot.

It's wild to think that 1,000 words of what was supposed to be nothing more than a plot device spun out into a 16,000 word multi-day snapshot. I’d forgotten about that fact until I opened the old document to pull some detail into the new plot.

I've put both the original and the updated version of this scene below the cut. Warning for mild spoilers of the upcoming snapshot of the Hughes's in Hawaii before the Sarah and Kylee show up to surprise their guys.

The only time her cover was nearly blown, she had all her swimming suits laid out over her bed, deciding what to pack when Quinn called her over face-time.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, when she sat at her desk and propped the phone up so she could continue to curl her hair while they talked. 

Trying to keep her voice level, she told him a partial truth, “Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding which suit to wear."

They were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 

He immediately jumped on her story, "not the black one."

"Why not?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder. "I thought you liked that one."

"I do like that one, you look incredible in it." 

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

The first time he'd seen her in it was at the family reunion earlier in the summer. She'd come out of the house, laughing and talking with his aunt, and he'd completely lost the thought he'd been sharing with Luke.

It then continued on the same as it does in The Family Reunion.

Here's how it goes in the new Hawaii Snapshot:

“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into her closet. 

When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.

“Are you going somewhere?” 

Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the suits she had spread out so she could decide what to pack. 

“Hu?” she asked, deciding to feign ignorance. cos

“You have swimming suits spread all over your bed?” 

Jack glanced at his mom with wide eyes upon hearing that. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise.

Trying to keep her voice level, she told him a partial truth, “Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” 

They were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 

He jumped on her story immediately, "not the black one."

"Why not?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at the offending garment, where it lay on her pillow, already in the yes pile. "I thought you liked that one."

"I do like that one, you look incredible in it." 

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

"So I can only wear it around you?" she teased, bringing him back to reality. 

"Well, no," he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friend, thinking she was hot and single. 

She laughed. "I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together."

Hope you enjoyed this BTS, and that it's getting you excited for the upcoming Snapshot!

[paulmescalsbicep]

heeey can ask for a roommate James in which the air conditioning ends up going out and it's unbearable hot and the reader ends up going to sleep in James' room (which in the end doesn't solve her problem because James is a human heater that gets stuck with him) - 🍓

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ☆.｡.:* roommate!jamespotter x reader wc: 1k

The heat is unbearable. The late July warmth is flooding your small apartment, only managing to be endurable with the work of a shitty floor fan, stolen from James room, now placed in front of your couch. Your luck ran out this morning when the air-con decided to terminate itself on the hottest day of the year. Of course.

You nurse a cold bottle of water head laid back against the pile of pillows resting on the couch. You hear the familiar click of a lock but don’t bother to look up, the movement alone could make you sweat in this weather. “Hey” James said, voice cheery as he took in your exhausted figure laid sprawled out on the couch. 

“Air-con’s still broken, won’t be fixed till Monday” You groaned, still not moving. The thought of even just a weekend stuck without it is too much to bare. “Well I brought you dumplings if that makes it any better?” James confesses placing the plastic bag of takeaway containers on the bench before pulling off his gym bag and throwing it towards the door. 

At that you pull your sweaty body off the sticky leather and make your way to the kitchen. You take in James' figure standing tall before you. Beads of sweat fall from his curls, either from the heat or the gym. Both probably. Heat was kind to James, unlike others. Summer made his skin turn tan and glowy adding to his already god-like presence. Sweat never made him smell bad, instead it made his enticing scent even more notable making it hard to be around him. Just like now.

James serves himself a hefty portion from each container, still leaving enough for you. You take your serve and move to sit on the couch next to him. God, just sitting next to him has your skin rising in temperature even more than before. Your cheeks feel flushed as you try to distract yourself with the meal in front of you. 

You can feel his hazel eyes examining you closely. “You okay lovey?”. Ugh, that stupid nickname that always has you melting at the knees. “Yeah, sorry James. It’s just the heat is making my brain all fuzzy” You sputter out. “I guess I’ll just have to go to bed early.” You joke with a nervous laugh. 

“Wanna take the fan tonight?” He offers, spooning the last mouthful from his plate into his mouth. “No no it’s fine” brushing off his words as you take his plate along with yours and flee to the kitchen to busy yourself with washing up.

-

The evening winds bring the heat down from unbearable to unfavourable. Even in your thinnest pyjamas with the sheets brushed off and away from yourself, it still feels like you're sleeping in an oven. You should have just taken that fan. You make a mental note to go out and buy one tomorrow, there's no way you can survive another night like this. 

James walks past your door, a maroon towel wrapped securely around his trained waist. “You going to bed?” he asks, holding another, smaller,  towel in his hand to scrunch at his damp curls. “Trying too, might end up in a puddle by the morning” You croak. Warm eyes take in your frame, tracing your hips before making their way back to your flushed face. “If you get hot you're always welcome to come to my room, there's plenty of space in my bed.” James says almost nervously, like he was anxious for your reaction to such a bold offer.

The thought of James beautifully bronzing skin against your back is enticing. But the thought of not being able to control your thoughts with him asleep beside you is less ideal. “Thank James” You reply, offering him a polite smile. “Goodnight”. 

"Goodnight, love” He speaks with a wink, usual demeanour back, before turning away and leaving you with flushed cheeks and weak knees.

-

Lifting your head you peer at the alarm clock resting on your side table. 3 am. Your brain is bone-tired and exhausted. You’ve been internally battling yourself on forfeiting to James' offer and just slipping under his sheets. Instead, you wander to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water to occupy your thoughts.

Setting your cup down by the dishwasher you decide to just bite the bullet. Feet softly padding on the floor, you are met with the front of James door. Knocking softly on the hardwood, you twist the knob open and peek inside. There lay James fast asleep, hair spread across his pillow and chest very much bare.

He’s clad in nothing but his boxers, arms clinging to the pillow in front of him. You step towards his bed, taking the pillow carefully from between his arms and slip in the space left behind. His sheets are significantly cooler than yours, thanks to the fan facing directly where you now lay. Resting your head on the pillow, your body finally feels as if it can sleep.

Seconds later, muscular arms wrap around your torso pulling you flush to a warm chest. James' warm chest. His hand reaches down to hold onto your lower stomach, digging into the fat, not letting go. His body was like a human furnace, one you can’t pull away from either due to his iron grip on your waist. 

But maybe it’s a sacrifice worth taking. His heat pulls you to sleep as you breathe in his delicious scent, eyes falling shut and breath falling soft as you sink deeper and deeper…

[kind-of-a-writer]

the usual

Gator Tillman x fem!reader Gator takes you in the shitty bathroom at your shitty job. wc: 3k a/n: hello i am back missed y'all sm<3 lmk if i missed a tag.

contains: mean gator, power play, harassment, name-calling, bathroom sex, p in v, creampie, slight dubcon if you squint?, rough sex

The bar wasn’t known for its quality, to say the least. And nor were you its finest waitress. But the alcohol was cheap, which attracted even cheaper people, and things conveniently managed to slip under the radar around here. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but you needed it to get by, and that’s all that mattered. 

Which, of course, had all come crashing down today. Your boss had pulled you aside before your shift, saying tonight was going to be your last shift. Something about not working hard enough, receiving ‘one too many complaints’ from one of the regulars. When you asked who it was, all he said was that it was one of the cops that frequented the bar.

You knew exactly who your boss was talking about, and it angered you like you couldn’t believe. 

Truth be told, you couldn’t give a shit, and there was no denying that. It was a shitty fucking job at a shitty bar. You earned just enough to pool together your hourly minimum wage and the crappy tips to be able to afford rent. But it was a job, it was something at least. Now you had nothing, and it was all thanks to that stupid deputy who found amusement in your misery.

It was another long, dreadful night. You had grown accustomed to the loud music and dim lights by now; this job had been your routine for months. Still, your feet were aching and your head was starting to pound, and your shift was nowhere over tonight. At least it’d be your last. Except, that meant you had nowhere else to turn, and even landing this shitty job had taken you so long. Still, you had to suck it up for the next few hours.

The bar wasn’t slow, but it was a Thursday night. Not exactly packed either, which meant less tips. You wished your boss had at least given you till the end of the week, but there was nothing you could do. He’d already hired someone new, she was replacing you tomorrow.

You had heard him and his friends enter before you even turned, they somehow had managed to be louder and more infuriating than the shitty bar music. They were rowdy, loud, messy, and the worst kind of table you’d want on a night like this. Or any night, really. But tonight specifically. You didn’t want to see him, the reason you had gotten fired. 

Gator Tillman was, of course, leading the pack of cops, with his stupid deputy vest and cargo pants as he strutted into the bar with confidence. His hair was slicked back, albeit starting to come undone. They must’ve just gotten off work. 

Unfortunately for you, Gator and his group of dumbfucks were regulars, often making your already-excruciating shifts more miserable. Often claiming you’d got their order wrong, whistling at you like a dog or yelling at you to catch your attention, bumping into you and spilling drinks on the floor which they’d relish in watching you mop up. It was worse when the bar was packed; full of drunk sweaty men who didn’t take kindly to the floor being sticky.

And Gator was, of course, the worst of them all. You’d never hated someone more. Even the sleazy customers who’d grab at your ass or hit on you were manageable; you knew how to handle them. But there was no handling Gator. He was, quite literally, the law. It was his way, or you were getting no tip (not that he was very generous), or a drink spilled on your clothes or shoes.

With a deep breath in, you approached the table, hoping tonight would have semblance of normalcy - whatever normal was with him.

He was the first to notice you, his signature smirk plastered on his face when you approached. “There she is,” Gator drawled, as if he was excited to see you. Excited to ruin your night probably. Well, the joke was on him. Tonight couldn’t get any worse. He seemed to notice the fatigue in your stance, reaching out and tugging on your half apron harshly. “This new?”

You tried to step away, but his grip only tightened, as if he had anticipated your move. 

“What can I get you guys?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral. Subtly, you glanced down at your outfit. You were wearing a white t-shirt and a little red skirt, nothing too special. But you were irritated, how did he know it was new?

“The usual, a round of beers for everyone,” Gator replied, his fingers still digging into your skirt. “I like this on ya, sugar. Though I gotta say, it does make you look a little slutty. Or d’you like that? Is it gettin’ ya a lot of tips?” 

You wanted to yell at him, call him names. Your patience tonight was already at an all-time low, and it didn’t help that his friends were cocksuckers who loved giggling at every single thing Gator did to piss you off or rile you up. But you held it in; you didn’t want to cause a scene and your shift to end early. You couldn’t afford to miss out on any cash now; even the minimum wage you received hourly at this stupid fucking job. 

With a tight-lipped smile, you turned away. You guessed that was a mistake, because his hand dug down into your tights, causing it to tear with a loud rip. You glanced down in disbelief.

“Oops,” he said smugly while his friends laughed loudly, causing your cheeks to burn. “Butterfingers.” 

Maybe it was the fact that you had just been fired tonight, or maybe it was that you were tired of Gator’s antics, but your eyes stung with tears. Before he or his dumbass friends could notice and give you shit for it, you turned away quickly, walking to the bar. 

You returned with their drinks, sliding over the glasses of beer. In the corner of your eye, you could tell Gator was watching you closely, but you pretended not to notice. God, you wanted tonight to be over. 

With another forced smile, you had started to turn away. But Gator wouldn’t make your life that easy. Swiftly, he lifted his beer and splashed onto your chest and down your skirt, the cold liquid making you flinch. Your ears were starting to ring, overwhelmed by the sounds of his friends laughing like he was the funniest man ever; their leering eyes on you as your white shirt clung against your bra, the beer seeping into the fabric.

“Oh, clumsy,” said one of Gator’s friends with a sneer. “Givin’ us a real nice view though.”

Frustration bubbling up, you turned to look at him, your lips parted to cuss at him. “You fucking asshole,” you snapped before you could help yourself, stepping back. That caused a low whistle from someone in the group. You’d surprised even yourself. “You’re so-”

Gator blinked up at you with a scarily blank expression, as if challenging you to say anything else. The clench of his jaw shut you up, and you walked away to grab a rag. 

After you were done with cleaning up the table and floor, Gator and his friends watching with amusement, you had finally managed to enter the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

Your cheeks were burning with humiliation and you were almost trembling with anger. You didn’t know why; you were used to Gator being an asshole. It was nothing new. 

Dabbing at your skirt with wet tissues, you knew it was a lost cause. You were going to have to endure being sticky and stinking of beer for the rest of the night. 

You glanced up when the door swung open hard, hitting against the wall with a loud thump. In strided Gator. 

“You’ve got a mouth on ya tonight, huh?” he asked, watching you continue to dab at your soaked skirt. “What, you think you can swear at me-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Gator blinked, momentarily surprised. He was closer now, leaning against the sink beside you. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this; fiery and snappy. For the sake of your job, you’d mostly managed to keep your mouth shut and endure his stupid little games. But now, you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You wanted to offend him, make him feel as angry as you were.

To your surprise, however, Gator was suddenly grinning, as if he found all of this very amusing.

“Ah, look who’s finally snapped,” he smirked. “There’s that bitchy attitude.”

You turned back to your skirt. You snatched your hand away when he tried taking the tissues from you. “Fuck off, Gator. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Jesus, what crawled up your ass?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowed. “Just tryin’ to help your sweet little ass clean up, it’s a sexy fuckin’ skirt.” 

Before you could register what you were doing, your palm made contact with his cheek, the loud smack echoing through the walls of the bathroom. He let out a soft grunt, clearly caught-off guard. “Fuck you.”

He didn’t move. His jaw clenched as he towered over you, taking a step closer. “Try that again and see where it’ll land you.”

“This is all your fault!” you snapped. “Because of you, I’m getting fired, and you always have to be a fuckin’ asshole-”

“Whoa, hey, whoa,” he smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re a shitty waitress. Y’know, maybe if you flashed a smile once in a while, you wouldn’t be getting fired.”

You knew that was partially true, but you were too blinded by rage to even care. 

“Fuck off, Gator, I know it was you who complained to my boss.”

“Look, it ain’t my-” He shot you a confused look, pausing. “What the fuck are you even talkin’ about?”

“Stop fuckin’ lying, I know it was you. My boss told me it was one of the cops.” You lifted your arm again to slap him, but he was faster. 

Gator grabbed your wrist before it could reach his face, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Now,” he said lowly, his eyes darkened, “normally, I might’ve felt sympathy for a hot thing like you gettin’ fired, but you’re pissing me off.”

You squirmed, trying to lift your leg to knee him, but he was quick to push you back.

“You’re really askin’ for it, huh?” he grunted, all the amusement from before vanished now. He took another step closer.

Blinking up at him, you scoffed. “What are you going to do? You’ve already snitched to my boss like a little bitch-”

He swiftly turned you and slammed you against the nearest wall, causing your chest to squish up uncomfortably against the cool tiles.

“I warned ya,” he snarled in your ear, causing a shiver down your spine. “Don’t say I didn’t. And for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t me.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of this. As much as the Gator infuriated you, made your shitty job even shittier, you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards him. You hated it. 

You swallowed thickly as his large, calloused hand drifted up your skirt, ripping your already-ruined tights even more.

“Gator-” you said, voice slightly shaky.

With haste, he tugged the tights down so it pooled around your shoes. His hand was back up your skirt, squeezing the supple flesh of your ass. His fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, causing a soft noise to leave your mouth. 

You could feel the heat growing between your legs, clit starting to pulse. A small part of you wanted to push him off, but really, you didn’t. Now that he had started, you didn’t want him to stop, and you hated yourself for it.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your neck as he tugged your panties off. “Been wantin’ to do this for a while. What a pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

“Wait, hold on,” you started as he started tugging your panties off down to join your tights, his fingers dipping between your slick wet folds, drawing out a moan from your lips. “You’re- you can’t be serious-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gator groaned, biting at your neck as his fingers circled your swollen, pulsing clit, making you whimper. Then he pulled his hand back. 

You squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his belt unbuckling, groaning when you felt his hard, leaking cock press up against your ass. You glanced back, heart pounding and eyelids heavy with pleasure, licking your lips. You knew he had to be big, but the sight of his large cock pressed up against your ass made you moan loudly. 

“What a pretty fuckin’ sound,” he said as he pressed his leaking tip up against your folds. “You want it, huh? You try to act so uninterested, yet here you are…” 

“Fuck you,” you breathed, your palm grasping at the tiles on the bathroom wall. Your voice had no real conviction in it, and it seemed like he knew.

His free hand tugged at your hair harshly, tilting your head back. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch, don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

Gator let out a soft groan as he pushed his thick cock inside you, pain and pleasure swirling together, causing your eyelids to flutter. He kept his grip tight on your hair, the feeling of his cock burying  himself so deep you were sure you could feel him in your stomach was making it hard to care about how much you hated him. 

You pushed your hips back to meet his, causing a moan to leave his mouth. You hated how it made your stomach flutter, his breaths hot in your ear, gripping your hip tightly it was starting to hurt. His grip on your hair loosened, just slightly enough to let you press your forehead against the wall.

“Oh, God,” you whined as he started fucking into you, giving you almost no time to adjust to his length.

“What a cockslut,” he said lowly. “What if someone walked in right now? Saw you taking my cock raw and deep like this? What would you say? I bet you’d want me to keep goin’ like the slut you are, huh? Not such a bitch now that I’m fuckin’ you?”

“God, shut the fuck up,” you managed to say through rapid breaths, each thrust causing your breasts to press up against wall uncomfortably. You whimpered when he shifted behind you, slamming into a new angle that made your eyes roll back. “You- you want this just as fucking bad-”

He laughed, breathlessly, like he was struggling to keep his composure. “Don’t flatter yourself, darlin’...” he said, which was a lot less convincing than he intended, because he whined as soon as you thrust back against him. 

Gator’s whine sent your stomach swirling with pleasure, your clit throbbing at the sound. As defiant as you tried you sound, however, you found yourself glancing back at the door, like you had just realized the possibility of someone walking in. 

“Aw, you worried?” he crooned, not slowing down his movements, each thrust more aggressive than the last. “Worried someone’s gonna see you takin’ it so good for me?”

He glanced down at you, and it felt like your eyes meeting for the first time, properly. His eyes were heavy and slightly glassy. The intensity of his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you turned back to face the wall.

It was pathetic, how you were starting to drool, clenching around his cock tightly, biting your lip to stop yourself from making a sound, but it was useless. His fingers were starting to bruise your hips by how firmly he was keeping you in place. The sloppy, wet sounds of skin against skin echoed through the bathroom, along with your moans.

Gator released your hair, moving his hand to your mouth as he felt you clenching around him tightly. “Mhm, shut up,” he grunted, as if he wasn’t just moaning a second ago. “God, you’re takin’ it so well. Should’ve just done this a long time ago.”

“Gator,” you whimpered against his hand, tears forming in your eyes.

It was embarrassing how loudly you cried into his large hand as you climaxed, white hot pleasure surging through your body as your thighs trembled. Your fingers were gripping at the wall helplessly, trying to stay upright. 

Hot spurts of cum coated your walls as Gator let out a soft groan, his breaths heavy as he came inside you with no warning. He bit at the crook of your neck as he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts sloppy until he finally came to a stop.

Breaths heavy, you stayed leaning against the wall as he pulled out. You could hear the sound of his belt being buckled. Cheeks flushed and eyes barely open, you turned your head to watch him fix himself back up.

“You better take a fuckin’ pill, you hear me?” he said harshly as he zipped his trousers on. You couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on cheeks, despite how neutral his expression was. Like he wasn’t just moaning and whining in your ear. You almost wanted to laugh in his face, but you couldn’t, too spent from your climax. 

Then, without another word, he left the bathroom. Leaving you there standing, his cum still dripping out of you, your skirt still stained with beer.

Somehow, you had gone home that night with a generous tip from Gator’s table. They were gone before you’d even managed to clean yourself up and leave the bathroom.

And two days later, to your surprise, your boss had called you up, practically begging you to come back and work for the bar again. You noticed that one of Gator’s cop buddies had black eye and cut lip, avoiding eye contact when they showed up at the bar again - this time, to your surprise, without Gator.

You knew what this meant, though. It meant you owed him.

[sheeezu]

It's my first time seeing DPS shifter!! That movie is such a comfort for me (I know haha). I even got matching tattoos with my sibling based off of it with "Make your lives extraordinary". I would love to hear you talk more about it if you're comfortable with that. Do you maybe have any stories from that DR? Do you have an S/O there or made it different from the source material?

Hi :) I actually got a similar ask, asking about my dps society, it got lost in the drafts.

(I hope that person sees this)

(What fun boys they are)

My dead poets society dr

It was mostly based on the source material but a special someone does not die. Also I couldn't fit a girl in an all boys school, nor did I wanted to, so I went in as male.

It also took place in 1989, I wasn't going back that far.

I love Neil Perry, I wasn't going to leave him alone so we ended up as roommates, and adjusted Todd with Knox.

My S/O was my unassuming Neil Perry (ofc)

I actually have a lot to talk about, but I'm just going to break down how each character was like, kind of like a storytime which could fit in one post (if you're unsatisfied, you can always ring my inbox again, even disguise yourself by changing your tone of writing a bit)

Neil Perry

I'd like to say, this guy has no object permeance. If he get's excited then he becomes a literal hazard. One time, he pulled me so harshly by my wrist, to the point of dislocating my shoulder. disclaimer, he will vent out to you all night long if he's upset, not realizing it's 3am and you both have classes tomorrow, and you can barely keep your eyes open. Otherwise he's really sweet, and nice class participation as well. (idk why i mentioned that)

Todd Anderson

Todd, even though he claims "he can take care of himself", he can't. He's always lost, and childishly likes to ignore social cues. He's actually very gullible, at least with me. Other than that, for no reason at all, i'd sneak into his room to read his personal diary; like it was simply an interesting novel and not an invasion of someone's privacy, he wrote about every single social interaction he had that day.

Charlie Dalton

CHARLIE, CHARLIE, CHARLIE. other than his usual obnoxiousness (as seen in the media) he will get serious when required, personally for me, he had been the person I could tell ANYTHING to. He's responsible for writing inappropriate words in the bathroom stalls (this is the dr where i removed urinals, because excuse you, i am not man-ing like this; instead there were stalls) Sleeps with his mouth open, hits on every breathing things, but doesn't have interest in anyone.

Mr. Keating

I ASPIRE to be this man. Honestly throughout the lectures, when they took a weird turn, i was very much the "I'd like to be excluded from this narrative" type of guy.

He would never get mad if any of the student were to visit him, no matter the time, whether it was late at night, he never got mad at all!

I ended up having an entire convo on the multiverse with him, and he agreed and patted me on the back, saying "you're onto something, pal."

...

This was getting long, but tbh I enjoyed writing this (this had been in my drafts for weeks) im pretty sure their are only a handful of dps shifters, a handful of people shifting for THE BEST MEDIA EVER.

i get that your ask, requested a storytime, and this isn't that, i'm sure i'll make one, that'll actually be in the form of a story.

(also of course, some people are left out, will come to them later ..?)

...