#I miss you chippy

[ripchaos69]

Memorial

Chippy

[bishopony]

While I'm on a non-american food kick it's truly sad how little variety of fake meat there is in the US. Where I'm at we have one decent brand choice for fake meat but good luck finding a restaurant that has any vegetarian options (do not even bring up vegan). It was so easy finding vegan and vegetarian food in the UK, even the random chippy across from our flat had good veggie burger 🥲

[forcesensitivebantha]

rose tyler I forgot just how much I love you........ sees the end of the world and then goes. well I want chips. me fucking too girl.

[prentissluvr]

PLSSSS I THINK IVE STARTED WATCHING SPN LIKE 5 OR 6 YEARS AGO IM STILL STUCK ON SZN 10 BUT AOKSKSKAKALA HELLOOOO ALAKAKALALALKAKAKALA MY LOVEERRR SKSKOSOSOAOAOAOOAOAAO GOD

HKDFSKDJ STOP THIS IS CRAZYYYYY UGHHH i started watching this spring LOLLLL i'm at the end of season thirteen now but it's so valid to be stuck on it HAHA THIS CRAZYYYY OMGGGG well... i hope that if you're ever in the mood you can enjoy some sammy content because i've been pumping it out all summer long <3333 EITHER WAY IDC I'M JUST SO HAPPY TO SEE YOUUUUUUU <333

[moralesispunk]

I think Simon loves a Sunday roast, but rarely has one. The idea of sitting down on a Sunday at a table feels too much like a family ritual for him.

instead, Simon loves a Friday night chippy tea, fish and chips (salt and vinegar), wrapped in newspaper, eating it at your small kitchen table just big enough for the pair of you as he listens to you tell him about your day.

He picks it up the second you text and say you're finishing up work, pretending to grumble on the phone at your strange order ("can't you just get a fish supper, love?") but always loves to try your choice of the week.

He's imposing as he waits in the queue, big strong man with his black scarf tied up to the bridge of his nose and the black hoodie pulled up. Everyone stands out his way, but the older woman behind the counter beams up him. "For you and that girl of yours, Simon. When are you putting a ring on it?" No one behind him can hear or see as he winks, replying with "I'm waiting on you to tell me no before I go to her." She laughs as he grabs the two wrapped up dinners, the rest of the queue dumbfounded at how she's not cowering behind the counter from the big scary man.

He gets home just as you do, pulling down his scarf the second he steps inside and pressing his mouth against yours. There's a murmured hello against each other's lips before you're kicking off your shoes and padding after him to the kitchen.

There are lots of things Simon misses when he's away. Waking up to you curled against him; the sound of you gasping "Si" when he first pushes into you; knowing that you're safe every second of every day. This moment right here - with you leaning back in your chair, one foot tucked under you and the other swinging back and forth so your foot scuffs the floor, fingers pinching at his chips and you laughing when he pretends to glare at you, listening to you tell him about your day, having you right there within arms reach - this might be at the top spot.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1889 home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin is the consummate Gothic Victorian. A lot of the decor is uniquely DIY, which makes it interesting, to say the least. 3bds, 3ba, $439,900.

The original doors in the entrance hall were given a couple of coats of shiny black paint.

The stairs were trimmed in gray and it looks like they stripped and refinished the railings.

This reception room has an original fireplace and pocket doors.

I can't say that the built-in cabinet it original, b/c it's a very different style. It looks like an old farm piece and the owners used a crackle paint finish to make it look chippy.

This middle room is 2 stories high, has a balcony, and the owners added some architectural salvage molding pieces. It also appears that the stone on the corner fireplace was replaced.

This is the ceiling in the room.

Old pocket doors missing hardware were given a distressed finish and the dining room ceiling is like a bronze/brown.

The kitchen reno is completely DIY, made with architectural salvage pieces.

Look at all the things.

It's very creative and look at how they fit the ovens into that green piece.

In the powder room they found a very different style door to fit the pocket.

On the 2nd floor, I'm not sure if this open room is supposed to be a bedroom, but it does look like one.

The hole in the ceiling exposing the window above may be the result of a new ceiling. That gives it a very unique feature.

There's a washer/dryer up here, and a kitchenette unit. Notice all the ceiling light fixtures.

I like the color scheme of this bedroom and the wall was taken down to make an open en-suite.

Interesting arched ceiling in the bath and that's some piece they chose for the sink.

So much in this home has been reconfigured. You can tell that the walls are new. So, this is the turret.

At the base of the rear stairs there's a newly configured nook.

This open room has been turned into a bath with a sauna.

This is quite the large bath.

It actually looks like most of the attic is bathroom.

At first glance I thought that this was a hot tub, but it appears to be some sort of platform or stage.

The basement's very big, has some creepy-ish gray stone walls, and lots of fun potential.

The exterior gothic architecture on this house is stunning.

The yard is fenced, but it needs landscaping. 4,791 sq. ft. lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3402-W-Saint-Paul-Ave-Milwaukee-WI-53208/40470662_zpid/?

[paradoxo8y]

AFK Jorney Headcanons

Merlin

The amnesia made their personality return to basic

Maybe adhd, starts a mission, forget about it, ends up with 3 half made quests

Hyperfocus on magic

Genderfluid, "Are you a boy or a girl?" - "I can conjure hamsters :D"

Merlin's favorite animal are hamsters, that's why they are their familiars

Completely oblivious to people flirting with them

Someone would need to kiss them and say "I love you" in their face for them to get it

Merlin's true appearance looks like a graveborn (based on @miss-anachronism graveborn Merlin post)

Before amnesia was less friendly and more strict with people

Used to be afraid of making friends and losing them to time

After, they forgot about the immortality and become less afraid

And the trophy of worst liar goes to...

Mirael

Loses control of hers pyromancy when under strong emotions

Still buries the objects she has incinerated, mostly hats

Had a crush on Merlin when she was a student, is not over it

More than once people have asked if she dyes her hair, "the answer is no, please stop asking"

In the depression stage of grief, even though Merlin isn't dead

Valen

Sees general Hogan as a father figure, he will not admit

His scar was from an accident when he was still a cadet, he slipped trying to catch a thief and fell face first

Will tell a different fight story to justify the scar

Everyone has a crush on him

He, Lorsan, Chippy, Hammy and Cassadee bet on who will conquer Merlin first

Valen and Hammie bet on general, Lorsan and Cassadee on Mirael, Chippy is winning with "Magister Merlin will help everyone in need"

General Hogan

Sees Valen as a son, will not tell him

Is in the acceptance phase after Merlin's amnesia

Meet Merlin when he was a cadet and they were investigating some mages on the region

Dolly

The only one that know how to do taxes

Lyca and Lorsan

They have the bunny equivalent to zoomies

Both also flop when relaxed

Cecia

She's dissabled, she can walk short distancies but need the plant chair to locomove for long periods

Her servent is like one of those helper dogs that fetch pens and closes doors

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

(Most of those were inspired by my impressions and ideas while playing the game, if you disagree be nice and leave your headcanons here, I would love to read and this fandom needs to be bigger <3)

(Sorry about the image quality, it's a picture os my computer screen, also, english not my first language, so let's hope it's readable)

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 5 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, little angst, little fluff, SMUTT!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to write this part. It's been quite busy since coming back from Elvis week and for whatever reason, I could not write anything spicy to save my life. I felt it was so bland and missing something! Then it finally hit me of what this needed heh.😏 I hope this was worth the wait! I'm happy with how this part turned out 🤭

*

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your brain would not shut off and all you could do was think of those damn hands touching you in all the right places. It felt even worse that John was inches away from you fast asleep. You decide to get up and read in the living room to see if that’ll make you go to sleep faster. You needed the space. Sleeping next to someone tonight just felt wrong. 

You turn on the small lamp next to the sofa and pick up something off of your bookshelf. You read the first few pages but you find yourself thinking about Elvis. About his eyes. About his hands. About how good he made you feel without you saying what you wanted. You were upset at yourself for thinking such things. You should have walked out once you found out Dianne wasn’t there. But you didn’t. You stayed and let Elvis take care of every last desire you had last night. 

You grunt frustrated and slam your book closed. You slump into the couch and try to get him off your mind. You must have laid there for hours and nothing was working. Those damn hands were taunting you even when they weren’t touching you. Your eyes finally feel heavy and you doze off to sleep. 

*

You woke up a bit jolted, not knowing what time it was. It was only eleven o’clock and you didn’t work til later in the afternoon so that made you relieved. John walks into the room dressed for the day and looks surprised you’re out here on the couch. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t want to bother you so I came out here to read,” you explain. 

“Mmm, okay. I’m about to head to work. Do you work tonight?” He asks. 

“Not til four,” you tell him. 

“Okay see you,” he says as he goes for the front door. He quickly stops and pats his pockets. “Shit where’s my keys,” he mumbles to himself.  He goes back to the bedroom to search for them. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing makes you jump off the sofa and run to the kitchen to answer it. 

“I got it!” You yell out. 

You quickly grab the blue phone off the wall and bring it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You say very chippy. 

“Hi, baby. Just the voice I wanted to hear,” he purred. 

Elvis. 

You feel yourself crumble a bit hearing that smooth, tenor voice ring into your ear. He sounded like pure, smooth honey and was intoxicating your veins just getting to hear his voice again.

Baby? God, it was so sweet and endearing. You liked how it sounded coming from his mouth. You actually liked it way too much. Especially when he grumbled it low in your ear as his cock was buried inside of you…

You try to snap yourself out of the delusional memory and clear your throat. 

“What do you want Elvis?” You say low, just in case John comes in. 

He chuckles slightly, “damn, I can’t just call you to see how you are?” He asks coyly. 

You snap, “You didn’t for the last eleven years so I don’t understand why you would start now,” you scowl. There was a long pause on the other side of the telephone. You knew you got under his skin. You honestly didn’t care your words were borderline mean. It was the truth and it still hurt you. Even after everything you two did yesterday, it didn’t make up for the pain of losing a friend after all these years. 

The silence continued and he still didn’t say anything. You feared he might have hung up. 

“Elvis?” You whisper. 

“I want you to come over.” He says. His tone made your hair stand up. This wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“What?” You hiss. 

“I want you here, now,” he sneered. 

“No,” you snap back, “I’m not going over when John is there,” you explain. It was all too risky. You didn’t trust Elvis to be subtle about anything. 

“I won’t ask again honey. I need you over here,” he says and the sound of the receiver clicks. 

You hotly hang up the phone and put your hands on your hips. This man made you extremely frustrated. Who does he think he is? Ordering you around like you’re just some kid. He had never spoken to you like this. 

But damn it curiosity was getting the best of you. What the hell did he want! What could he possibly want from you? You already told him you were not doing anything… salacious with him. It was the heat of the moment and you swore it would not happen. You were just there twelve hours ago. You were not going to let him have his way again. 

You quickly put a dress on and fix up your hair. 

“John don’t leave, I’m coming with you,” you yell out, hoping he hasn’t left yet. You put on some mascara and lipstick and rush out to the living room. John gives you a confused look. 

“Why do you want to go to Elvis’?” He asks confused. 

Your brain scrambles for a logical explanation. Nothing seemed like a good enough reason and you panic. 

Because he told me to come over and I can’t say no to him. 

“Well umm… that was his housekeeper that called. I forgot my pie plate and she also wanted me to write down my recipe so she could make it for Elvis whenever he wanted,” you say nonchalantly. The lie you constructed seemed good enough. John shrugs his shoulders not really caring for the story but doesn’t protest. 

“Oh okay whatever, let’s go,” he says as he goes to the front door. You sigh a breath of relief that he bought the story and you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore. You quickly rush to the passenger side and get in, zooming down Sunset Boulevard, not knowing what state you’ll find Elvis in. Is he going to be really upset by your brazen behavior? No, you had to stay firm in your feelings. You can’t just forgive him like that. He can’t just waltz into your life again after all these years and try to act like nothing happened. 

With your wandering thoughts clouding your judgment, you realize you both were about to pull into the rod iron gates of Hillcrest house, seeing Elvis standing out in the driveway with a cigar in his mouth. His expression was blank and unwavering. He wore a dark green shirt and black slacks, with a colorful scarf that hung around his neck. A few strands of hair fell down on his forehead and gave him this dark, brooding look. You take a deep breath and pray this visit won’t be long. 

You try your best to act like nothing is bothering you. That this is going to be a brief visit and what you two did last night will not be even thought about while being under his roof. You nonchalantly walk past Elvis and give the most gracious and polite greeting. 

“Hi Elvis, nice to see you,” you say shortly, giving him a weak hug and walk into the house like it’s your own. He didn’t even hug you back. 

You walk into the cool air-conditioned house and don’t exactly know where to go. You didn’t want to be right in the middle of the entryway if Elvis decided to walk in right after you. You decided to go to the kitchen and actually act like you were getting the pie plate you forgot. 

The kitchen was clean and well-organized. There was lots of natural light that poured into the room and the smell of something in the oven made your mouth water. On the back counter, you do see your cleaned pie plate sitting there. The housekeeper walked into the kitchen and was surprised you were in there.

“Hi y/n what a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says sweetly. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just stopped by to say hi to Elvis and get my pie plate from last night,” you explain. 

“Oh not a problem dear, I cleaned it for you,” she says as she goes to pick it up from the counter and hands it to you. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, Elvis was going on and on about how great it is to all of the guys. It was gone by the morning,” she laughs.

Your lie somehow got construed into reality and you don’t exactly know what to say but your nervous energy gets the best of you and you laugh too.

“Oh yes of course! Did you know it’s always been his favorite? I used to make it all the time when I’d visit Graceland. Any party he’d throw, I knew I needed to bake something or he’d pout about it if I didn't,” you giggle. That memory does make you genuinely happy. Those were such good times and wish you could go back and relive them.

“I don’t doubt it, honey. That sounds just like Elvis,” she says gleefully, “Let me grab you a pen and paper. Did you enjoy dinner last night?” 

You pause and have to nervously look always from her. You nod your head at her and try to put on your best smile. 

“Oh yes, it was absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself,” you try to say even though you didn’t have a bite of it last night. 

It ended up on the floor along with your clothes. 

“I’m sorry about the little accident, we were clumsy and the plate fell,” you try to explain. She flashes you a confused look. 

“What accident? There was nothing out of place this morning when I got here,” she tells you. 

Elvis must have cleaned up the mess he made after you left which left you shocked honestly. Elvis always had someone helping him out with any sort of task. Even years ago, he always had a small group of guys that would go out with him anywhere he went. You see by the size of his entourage now that same principle applies. Even at Graceland, he always had two housekeepers working for him that would do anything he asked. They’d make any meal for him and clean up after him too. It really did shock you she didn’t walk in this morning to find the shattered plates and wasted dinner on the marble floor like when you left. 

“Yeah… umm, Elvis accidentally broke a dish but he must have cleaned it up after I left,” you say a bit timidly. 

“He broke one of the plates? Agh that boy really needs to be more careful! He’s always breakin’ stuff. But I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. It’s one of my favorites to make. I can give you the recipe if you’d like?”

She stops suddenly and looks past your shoulder, wearing a smile on her face, “Oh, hi Elvis we were just talking about you. Is there anything I can get you?” She asks sweetly.

You turn around quickly and hold your breath when you look at him. He was standing closer to you than you were expecting and of course, he was looking criminally good. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore but you still find yourself looking at him in awe. He has a cute smile on his face, the same one he’d give you when he saw you walk in the front door of Graceland. 

“No that’s alright dear thank you. I just wanted to talk to y/n privately if you don’t mind,” he says charmingly.

“Oh of course dear. I’ll be around if you need anything,” she says courtly and walks out of the kitchen quickly.

Now you two were alone again and the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. The way he looks at you… God, those eyes are scorching, blazing with an intense heat. He was like a vortex you couldn’t escape. Why would you? The way his eyes melt into your body and make you feel uncomfortably warm just being in his presence. You watch as his eyes drink you in. Like you’re his favorite drink on this warm June day and he can’t get enough of you. You’re coming to learn that you feel incredibly insecure when he does this. How his eyes are undressing you in plain sight and how he lingers on certain parts of you. You cross your arms against your body so he can get the message you don’t appreciate his rude stares.

“What did you want?” You ask more gently than you did when you asked him on the phone earlier.

He takes a few steps closer to you, not breaking his heated gaze. You back up slightly and huff when you feel your backside hit the counter. You had nowhere else to go and Elvis keeps walking closer to you. He puts his hands on your hips and slowly pulls you into his body. You both sigh and you look up into those big, pleading blue eyes of his.

“I missed you,” he murmurs holding you. He leans down and places a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. You take in a sharp breath when you feel his soft lips touch your skin. You try to hold back the pleased sigh you want to make. He felt too good pressed against you and he knew it.

You push at his chest slightly to get him to look at you.

“No you didn’t,” you mumble. He stares darkly at you, not liking your response.

“Why would I say it then,” he growls. Your heart gallops by his tone and the look he’s giving you. 

“I don’t know. We’ve only spent a few hours together, I doubt it was life changing for you…” You look away quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to that, “I don’t really know you anymore Elvis, have you forgotten that?” You say weakly. You slowly push at his chest more so he gives you space. He obliges and frustratedly ruffles his hand through his hair.

“Shit,” he grumbles to himself as he turns away from you momentarily. You nervously watch him pace the kitchen like a caged tiger, sighing and cursing under his breath. His energy made you feel on edge and you’re not sure if you should leave or if that’s going to make him more upset.

He stops and turns back to you, his eyes serious and dark.

“You regret it, don’t you?” He says shortly. You look at him stunned, you feel the air get sucked out of you.

“No, of course not,” you tell him.

“No, don’t lie. Just tell me. Do you not trust me? What is it,” he snaps a little too loudly for your liking.

“Keep your voice down,” you snarl, “I’m telling you the truth Elvis. I don’t regret anything. You just can’t act like everything is fine between us all because we had-,” you stop yourself quickly before saying it out loud. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the last twenty-four hours. None of this seemed real. His eyes were hurt when they looked at you. He didn’t like how you were dismissing most of the moments you had together so far.

He walks back towards you, trying to recollect himself before speaking.

“What can I do then? What can I do to make you realize my words are genuine?” He asks, bringing his hand to your cheek and softly caressing it. You couldn’t denounce how nice it felt to have him touch you so tenderly. You look up into his hurt eyes and see how he’s waiting on bated breath for an answer from you.

You place your hand over his and gently pull it down from your face.

“By starting to treat me like a friend again. I told you, I’ve missed my friend for so long,” you admit, holding his hand in yours.

He sighs, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

“Honey, I’m sorry but that’s really hard for me,” he declares.

“It might take some time, yes, but I think it could be nice. We can start over and catch up. I know there’s been so much you’ve been up to and-,” You start to ramble but he cuts you short.

“No, honey, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think I can just be your friend anymore I-… I want something more from you,” he insinuates as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. Another spark rushes through you as you feel him touch you.

“Jesus Elvis,” you sigh, “No, we can’t. Have you forgotten I’m married to someone,” you say a bit defeatedly.

“No I haven’t, but you’re not happy. Just the way you said that sounded like it’s a burden,” he says bluntly.

You freeze and realize he’s right. You think you’ve felt like this for a while but have buried it deep down inside you. You’ve been so focused on just getting by and not realizing that the foundations of the house you made with that man, the one you made vows to, have detrimentally cracked. 

“Elvis please, don’t make this harder than it actually has to be,” you sigh. 

He pulls you into his arms again, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

“Let me make it easy then. I want you to trust me. I want you to come to me and tell me about anything you need. I don’t want this to be difficult at all. I really think we need to be in each other’s lives at his point in time,” he tries to reason. 

Maybe he is right. Maybe it all comes down to timing. Back in ‘58, it wasn’t the time to be as close as you were so he got shipped off to the army. And even when he came back, it wasn’t time to rekindle your friendship right away. What if it all leads to this moment, in this kitchen, in this house, with him holding you in his arms? Your stomach twists nervously, you didn’t like being out in the open where anyone could walk in seeing you two embraced in each other’s arms.

“Can we talk somewhere more private? I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation or walking by,” you say quietly. He quickly nods his head and motions you to follow him through the house. You prayed he wasn’t going to take you to the bedroom as that would be all too telling what you two might be doing in there. You pull at his arm when you two reach the doorway of his room.

“No please, not in there,” you say worriedly.

“It’s fine honey. No one bothers me in here,” he tells you. You check behind you to make sure no wandering eyes can see you and quickly get in the room with him.

You hold your breath as you take in the space once again. Only one drape was open today and let the golden California sunshine gleam in. You glance at the well-made bed and can’t help but relive some of those moments you two shared there. You sit on the corner of the bed, hunched in stature, not sure where you should start this conversation. 

“I do trust you, you know that right? Even though you’ve changed throughout the years, I know that my old friend is still in there somewhere,” you say pointing at the vicinity of his chest. He smiles because of this and nods his head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here now. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you,” he says as he takes a seat beside you.

“I don’t need anything from you Elvis I-,” your voice cracking as you feel emotions hit you like a train. “You’re right I-, I haven’t been happy. It's been quite some time since I’ve been truly happy. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore, you know?” You say as tears start rolling down your cheeks. He gently wipes them away and wraps you in his arms again.

“I do, I understand honey. I’m sorry you’ve been going through that,” he says tenderly.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his body. “It’s just been so hard. We’re barely getting by and my acting dreams are in ruin. He doesn’t care about my feelings or what I want in life anymore. He doesn’t care about the career I want. He is just so bitter towards me. I can’t even remember the last time I was truly content with my life. I hate it all. I hate who I’m becoming... It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself you know” you sniffle, looking hopelessly into his eyes.

He pauses deep in thought, “yes honey, believe me, I know exactly how that feels,” he says timidly.

He lets you cry, no words being said was the right thing to do. He runs his hand through your hair, soothing you without even trying. He makes you feel at peace. Just the very presence of him has you happier than you’ve been in ages.

“Was I able to take your worries away, even for a short time?” He asks innocently. You lift your head off of his shoulder and look into those intoxicating blues.

“Yes, you did,” you tell him.

“If that’s what you need me to be, then I have no problem with that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you need to cry, I’ll be here to comfort you. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen,” he explains as he slowly slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you looking at him. “If you need me to show you physically, how incredibly beautiful you are… I can do that too,” he coos. 

Your heart skips in your chest, unable to take what he’s saying. In comparison to him, you did not feel beautiful or worthy of being showered with his praise.  

You sigh, “you know that last part can’t happen,” you say weakly. 

“Baby,” he sighs, caressing you in his arms, and placing soft kisses on your forehead. “Last night was… one of the best nights of my life. It’s something I’ll never forget. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he says softly. 

That just about knocked the wind out of you. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you had thoughts about over the years what it would be like to be with Elvis. In some weird way, he knew you had. Especially after he left for the army. Those memories of the night you shared were etched into your brain forever. You’d lay there late at night, remembering how much you wanted him here in your bed, caressing your body and taking care of every last need you had. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble looking down at your shaking hands. You couldn’t handle being this close to him. 

“Please forgive me for how I’ve acted. I should have taken care of you that night. I should have been here, treating you better,” he says, grazing your arm with the softest touch. 

You look back at him and can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. It was everything you had been waiting for him to say to you. It felt like some weird dream but he was very much real and telling you just what you needed. 

“It’s okay…” you mumble, looking at his lips. 

“I-, honey I want to take care of you,” he whispers. 

You shake your head, “I don’t deserve that honey,” you try to reason. 

“Yes, you do. Let me show you how much I want you. I want you here with me. I couldn’t sleep all last night,” he grumbles, placing his hand on the inside of your thigh. You jump slightly at his touch. It was so alluring and you had to fight to move it higher. 

“I know, I couldn’t sleep either. I was up late thinking about you,” you whimper. 

He squeezes your thigh, liking to hear that you were thinking the same things last night. He grumbles softly to himself when you place your hand on his leg too. 

“What were you thinkin’ about honey?” He asks gently. 

“Just not believing what had happened. That it was real,” you say blushing. 

“I know, I was in a bit of shock once you left,” he says jokingly. He scoots back on the bed with the pillows against his back. He reaches out his hand for you. “Come here baby,” he pleads. 

It took everything in you to fight the want to sit next to him on his bed. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave. Keep it on good terms and keep your clothes on. But he always knows how to pull you in and get his way. 

You go to him and crawl back on the bed where he’s sitting. Before you have the chance to sit next to him, he quickly lifts you up and sits you on his lap. You look at him stunned, not able to move from his very shocking behavior. 

“I just want you close baby,” he says coyly. “What else were you thinkin’ about that was keepin’ you up so late,” he says low, his hand firmly around your waist. His hands felt like quicksand. Every touch and caress made you weaker and melt into his lap.

“I was thinking how much I liked your lips on mine,” you tell him, rubbing his soft lips with your index finger. “And how I loved it when they gave me the most satisfaction I've felt in years,” you sigh. His eyes light up when he hears this, you absent-mindedly twirl the scarf around his neck with your other hand, feeling how soft it is. 

“Mmm, good baby.” He grumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss. There was no hesitation from you, your lips eagerly met his and you two clashed like wildfire. His heat consumed yours and you both ached for more from each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

He makes small groans as he kisses you more while his hands freely roam your body. You knew you said to yourself you’d try to denounce him, that you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation again, but damn it you loved being in his arms. You pull at his scarf and take it off of him, tossing it to the floor. You sneak your hand into his shirt and feel his soft skin. He sighs and stops kissing you briefly.

“Was I right the other day?” He asks with a serious tone.

“Right about what?” You say a little confused and dazed.

“That you still think about my hands when you’re alone? When you’re touching yourself,” he says slyly, his hand snaking up your calf. You take a sharp breath in as you feel his fingers creep higher under your dress and rest on the inside of your thigh. You make a frustrated groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks are flushed from the filthy thoughts you’ve had over the years. His fingers creep higher until they find your lace panties, resting his hand there. You squeeze at his arm, fighting the way your hips want to lean into his touch.

You feel your heart beat loudly in your chest and don’t know what to say to him. You just can’t tell him some of the things that have crossed your mind. He’s patient, coaxing the answers out of you as his fingers start to gently circle your clit. Wetness pools in your panties and you’re dying for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me, baby, I wanna know,” he murmurs.

You kiss his neck and grumble frustratedly. You look back up at him and see his pleading eyes look back into yours.

“Yes you were right,” you huff, placing a kiss on his cheek and hiding your face in his neck once again. His fingers continued to tease while his other hand helped spread your legs apart. He lifts your face to look back up at him and he has the most pleased look. 

“I know. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you,” he says as you gasp from the friction he’s giving you.

“God those hands kill me…” you grumble. He hums softly and continues to tease.

You grasp onto his shirt and tear at it frustratedly. You couldn’t handle how much you needed him. His fingers pull your panties to the side and discovers how wet you’ve become and he groans. 

“God baby you need me don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and gruff. All you can do is whimper and rock your hips into his fingers. 

“Yes, I want you so bad. Just like that night,” you whimper. 

“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” He asks mischievously. You suck in a sharp breath, not expecting him to ask something like that. But of course, he was right. That’s exactly what you wanted that night. You didn’t want him to stop you from taking off his pants and let you fuck him til the sun came up. You had zero sexual experience then but you were so confident that you could give both of you the pleasure you needed. The alcohol really made you more confident than you should have been.

“Yes, I did. I wanted you to make me feel good but you stopped me,” you say with a hint of whininess in your voice. 

He chuckles amused at your behavior, “I know baby. I’m here,” he says as his fingers tease your entrance. “Come and ride me now,” he groans. 

You grunt frustrated, you can’t take any more of this and need him. You pull at his shirt and unbutton it. You kiss and nip at his neck, leaving lipstick marks up and down it, creating a pleased grumble to form in his chest. The aching need he has created in you won’t go away without his help.

Your core continues to weep with every motion of his long fingers. You groan helplessly as your hand moves lower and gently rubs his hard cock. He groans silently and pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Yes baby, just like that. Please I want you,” he says as he takes his hand out of your panties and finds the zipper to your dress. He slowly unzips it and you get off the bed to take it off of you. His gaze didn’t look away from you. Your heart hammered away as you were about to let your dress fall to the floor. 

You let the straps fall off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You quickly glance over at him and watch as he looks intoxicated just looking at you. You cover your breasts with your hand and forearm. Your cheeks burn as he continues to stare and he swings his legs off the bed. He pulls you closer to him and places a soft kiss on your lips, pulling your arm away from your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him, you can’t handle him saying those kinds of things to you. He pulls down your panties and caresses your naked body in front of him. You try to get him to take his pants off and get him to look at something else. He stands up to unbutton them and shimmies them off. He doesn’t wear anything underneath and his cock springs free. 

He looked damn good and you couldn’t help but stare at the man. 

He pulls your hand to get back on the bed with him and spreads his legs apart slightly.

“Come here baby,” he coos.

You obey and crawl on the bed with him, straddling his hips. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his cock. You gently pump it and hear him groan as you do this. The throbbing in your core increased as you hovered over his length and rubbed it through your folds. It didn’t take long to coat him with your wetness and the feeling of him made you even more weak. 

You both lock eyes and see how badly you want each other. He was desperate for you, everything about him yearned for you and you couldn’t deny him anything. He puts his hands on your hips and helps you slowly sink down on his length. You groan as you take the first few inches of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. This felt better than you could’ve imagined, how he filled you so perfectly and made your walls hug him with each thrust. You moan softly as you take him slowly. He has the same pleased look on his face as he looks at your breasts and down to where you both are connected. 

“Oh God,” you cry. He groans in agreement, squeezing your hips tighter.

His hands slither up the sides of your torso to the front of you and squeeze your breasts in his hands. You groan with how this all feels and take a bit more of him. He pushes your body forward and his lips wrap around your nipple. He squeezes your breasts harder and sucks at them more. You can hardly function with him doing this to you. His hips buck up slightly and fills you more, making you groan loudly.

The more his hands moved all over you, discovering new spots you liked to be touched, you grew nervous again like last night and doubts invaded your mind. You were afraid this wasn’t going to be good for him. You weren’t good enough to be with Elvis like this. This wasn’t going to last. You had to be frank with yourself too, you weren’t experienced in this sort of thing. You had only been with one person he was not the adventurous type. You had to face that you were in a sexless marriage. He never asked you for such things from you which made you feel uneasy about a whole other matter you’d have to find out about. Getting on top rarely happened and you hated the way John would look up unamused at you. It made you feel small and unwanted.

 You whimper and pull at Elvis’ hair.

“Honey I can’t do this,” you sigh, lifting yourself off of his length. Elvis’ face is shrouded with concern.

“What’s wrong baby? Does it not feel good?” He asks gently. 

“No, no it does, I just- I’m afraid you’re not going to enjoy it,” you say weakly looking away so he doesn’t see your apprehensive expression. 

He gently turns your head towards him again, caressing your face in his hand. 

“That’s not true baby, I’m loving every second of it. I want you to keep going,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Really?”

“Yes baby, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he almost pleads. 

You can’t believe what he’s saying and see how desperately he wants you. 

He teases you by rubbing his cock through your folds again, making you throb more. You sigh, slowly moving back and forth on his length. Your core ached and needed more of him too. 

“Come on baby, take it nice and slow,” he coos. 

You nod your head at him and your breathing staggers. You hover over his length again and he helps you line up his cock to your entrance. You slowly sink down on him and feel instant satisfaction. He felt like heaven as your walls hugged him tightly and made your head fall back. 

You moved slowly, just like he told you to, and made you both moan obscenities with each thrust. 

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he coos, rubbing your nipples lightly with his thumbs. His voice alone was going to make you finish quickly if he kept this up. You didn’t know how much you liked hearing how much he loved this. It was addicting. You loved getting praise from him you were soon discovering. 

You kept moving in slow, controlled motions, loving everything about this. 

“Take a little more baby,” he says gently. You nod your head and do just that, filling you more. 

“Oh god,” you whimper. You weren’t used to him still. He was overwhelming with the way he’d fill you in the most complete ways. He lets out a pleased groan, squeezing your hips to still you. 

“Fuck you feel good baby,” he groans as he lets his head fall back to the pillows behind him. You look away from him and your eyes squeeze closed, trembling on top of this perfect man as you slow fuck him. You move a bit more, crying out his name as your pleasure builds. You feel his hand gently move your face toward him and your eyes pop back open. 

“Look at me, Honey. I wanna see your pretty face when you fuck me,” he tells you as he thrusts his hips into you more, pushing his cock deeper. He felt so damn good in this position. His cock pushes on a sensitive spot that could have you screaming his name if you moved faster. 

“Okay baby,” you say weakly, staring into his luring eyes.

You can barely catch your breath as he helps you move a bit faster on him. You scratch at his chest and feel yourself become weaker by the second. You were going to finish soon and he was doing everything in his power to get you there. You cry out for him, begging for him to give you more.

“Takin’ me so well baby, fuck,” he grumbles, sending a pleasurable shock through your body. You loved hearing how much he liked it. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Yes baby, doing so good. You make me want to cum in that pretty little pussy,” he groans, pushing his hips up and burying his cock all the way inside of you. You moan loudly and you let your eyes squeeze shut. Everything about taking him slow goes out the window and you move faster on him. You put your hands on his chest and fuck him harder.

His hands are firmly squeezing your hips and helping you move on him. He stills you when you’re stuffed to the hilt and trembling with need. He rocks your hips back and forth on him and you feel yourself crumble.

“Elvis oh-,” you whine. You feel your walls flutter around him and you grasp onto his forearms tightly.  

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Let me feel how much you love this,” he groans as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel him pound his hips into you. His pace was unrelenting and made your eyes roll back in your head. You tried to muffle your moans but it was no use, every movement had you dying. It only takes a few more slow, deep thrusts and you feel your coil snap. Your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, making you both groan in pleasure. You claw at his arms and slowly swivel your hips on him as your orgasm rips through you. You let your head fall back, overwhelmed with what he’s giving you.

“Fuck baby that’s right, cum for me,” he coos. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the loud moan he just made you produce. God his voice somehow makes you feel more turned on. You feel your core squeeze around him again and he moans your name in response to it. You keep riding him, wanting to make you both feel as good as possible. You see stars behind your closed eyes and feel like you’re on another planet because of him.

Your eyes flutter open and love to see this gorgeous man writhe underneath you. He lets his head fall back and groans with each movement of your hips. Jesus, he looked good like this. You liked it when he looked completely fucked, when his breathing was ragged, and how his eyes drooped heavy with lust. Your body was getting tired, not able to move much more but he was helping you with that. 

You watch as his eyebrows furrow together and his mouth falls open slightly. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. Your breathing falters and you grind at the base of his cock, stuffing you to the hilt. 

“Cum baby,” you groan, barely able to move anymore. 

He squeezes at your thighs and bucks his hips into you, his length pulsating inside you. You cry out for him and look down at him in disbelief. He somehow felt better like this. You rock your hips back and forth slowly on him and feel his warm seed coat your walls. He curses under his breath and looks at you in shock. 

“God baby you feel so good,” he grumbles. 

“Yes, so do you,” you say lazily. He grunts louder as he feels you grind on him, giving him as much as you can give before your body was too tired to move anymore.

You finally collapse on his chest and cling to him. He tries to soothe you with gentle touches along your back and your head. Both of you struggled for breath and needed to be in each other’s arms. 

You start to lift yourself off of him but he pushes your hips back down on him.

“No baby, keep me inside of you,” he whimpers.

You lay your head on his chest and hear his fluttering heart. He was just as excited as you were. 

You both lay there for a while, calming each other down after all of that. You were ultimately in shock. You never experienced something like this. It was pleasurable, euphoric, and thrilling all at the same time. You never expected him to care so much about you. The way he practically begged for you. The way he encouraged you to keep taking more of him. It was so attractive. You couldn’t get enough of his voice. It was one thing singing, it was beautiful and melodious. But when he was directly talking to you, it was low and gravely, making you a puddle with his cock stuffed inside of you.

You whisper in his ear, “you felt so good,” you sigh. 

He hums softly, “good baby, so did you. I really can’t get enough,” he grumbles. 

“Me either,” you sigh, not believing the words that have come out of your mouth. 

He runs his hands through your hair, “stay a little longer please, don’t run off like last night,” he whimpers in your ear. You sigh, this wasn’t easy to try to say no to him.

You sit up to look at him, “you know I can’t stay long. I have work later and I was only supposed to stop by here to get my pie plate,” you tell him.

“That was the lie you constructed? That you desperately needed to come back here to get your pie plate?” He laughs.

You roll your eyes and sigh annoyed.

“No questions were asked, it was a believable story,” you joked.

“Well I didn’t have a bite of your pie, the guys scarfed it down before I could get a crumb,” he grumbles.

“Oh no you’re gonna starve,” you tease.

“Oh I’m not complaining, I got a taste of something else last night that was quite…delicious,” he says slyly. 

God save me.

“If you want me to stay longer, you’ll have to come up with a good reason this time. I already made up my story to get here, now it’s your turn,” you say smartly. He gives you a cheeky smile and nods his head.

“Okay fine, that’s fair,” he chuckles and pauses to think of a convoluted story to keep you here. He gives you a cheeky smile when he’s got it.

“I want you to bake me something, that’ll keep you here a few more hours. If you don’t, I might just pout about it,” he says childishly and winks at you. Goddamn it he’s good. You laugh softly and sigh, “fine, you win this time.”

He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. You didn’t want to let go though.

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[miss-anachronism]

for requests. i need. valen x male magister merlin. im a sucker for this guy. anything really. thank you!

Ooh, I’ve never read an x reader/MC fic, let alone written one! New territory, as exciting as it is scary.

I’m not so sure I have a good grip on Valen’s character, but I tried to write it from his perspective. I hope this suits your needs! It gets a bit philosophical. And sorry if its OOC :,)

He isn’t sure what to think, really.

They’re sitting around a dying campfire, just outside the borders of the Dark Forest. Lorsan is pacing somewhere in the distance, muttering to himself, or to the wind, maybe. Trying to figure out what’s happened to his home. Korin leans against a tree, tending to his wounds- courtesy of Merlin. The magister himself is across from Valen, wrapping his own wound and chattering with his hamsters.

Logically, Valen knows that the lesson he should have taken from this scramble is a lot more profound than what’s been on his mind. He should be contemplating the Wilders, the forest, their next steps, how to protect the refugees. And he’s trying to, but it’s just that something- someone- keeps catching his attention.

He didn’t know Merlin could bleed.

It’s such a silly observation. But as Valen watches the angry red wound on Merlin’s forearm, his gut twists. It’s like seeing a god’s flesh tear, and seeing that its blood is the same bright red as his own.

Valen isn’t sure what exactly Merlin is. As far as he knows, no one does, not even Merlin himself. But to the average young Lightbearer, he’s a myth. A legendary figure that you might glimpse once in your life, but would never get to meet. Never speak with, let alone camp alongside. Fight alongside. Merlin throws his head back to laugh at something Chippy has said, and something stirs in Valen’s ribs, something he knows is dangerous.

All of this is dangerous. Merlin is not someone to be loved; Valen has seen what happened to Mirael. Forgotten about, left in the dust, accidentally as it was. The way she watches Merlin, her face made of mixed admiration, bitterness, and regret. He wonders if she would take it all back, if she could. Scariest of all, when she bid them farewell, the look in her eyes sent an ugly pain of jealousy through Valen’s chest. And he doesn’t want that to happen to him, selfish as that may be. Every time Merlin falls asleep, he risks waking up knowing nothing.

Besides, what is Valen to a hero of myth? His whole life has been barely a blink in Merlin’s. Whatever he is, there is no reasonable way Valen could ever mean something to Merlin the way that Merlin is beginning to mean something to him. Merlin will outlive him a thousand times over. And he’s probably met a thousand different people, fallen in love with quite a few of them. Someone who has experienced so much life, so much loss, can they still love? Could they ever?

And yet, he bleeds. It’s such a human weakness that it seems impossible. Valen knew heroes could bleed; he didn’t know gods could. Merlin does not go about the world serene and calculating, watching every moment with practiced ease. He stumbles, laughs, misses with his spells. He jostles Valen’s pauldron excitedly when they win a fight, he’s the last to flee when they lose, ensuring everyone else has disengaged safely. He has only one dimple, on his left cheek. Sometimes he speaks so fast his words blend together, and Hammie has to remind him to slow down. It’s endearing. It’s human. Valen doesn’t know what to do with it. Because it was so much easier, to write off affection as admiration. When the pieces had first clicked, he thought it all made sense. The natural pull that the magister gave off- yes, of course, it was just Merlin’s nature. But they’re a week into this camaraderie, and Valen keeps noticing things like the lick of hair on his neck that doesn’t sit flat.

Pretty fucking annoying, that’s what it is. Valen’s always prouded himself on his ability to swerve out of love’s path. He can flirt and charm all he wants, but at the end of the day all the love letters he receives are ink and paper, nothing more. Whenever someone seriously reciprocates- god forbid- he disengages as smoothly as he can, lest they get the wrong impression.

But Merlin has changed all that, somehow. Impossibly so. He supposes it’s in his nature, to take everything and turn it upside down. Valen doesn’t want to flirt with the Magister, to laugh as he flushes under his praise. Well, it would be nice, he always has liked the attention; but the thing is, that isn’t the point. With Merlin, he just wants to be. No performance, no elaborate courtship. Just… be. Together. All this, for someone who is more myth than man.

It seems like the scariest thing he’s ever faced.

“Valen?”

He jumps as the magister suddenly speaks, and realizes with mounting embarrassment that he’s been staring the whole time. Luckily, the magister grins good-naturedly- and ah, there’s that dimple again.

“Lost in thought?”

“You could say that.”

He leans back on his hands and forces his face into a smirk. It’s easier than he anticipated; despite everything, Merlin makes it simple to be around him.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” Merlin mirrors his position as Chippy and Hammie scuttle away, the former setting off on a quest to climb the nearest tree, “I really appreciate your help in all of this. Coming along, and aiding me- far past your assigned duties. It isn’t lost to me.”

Valen gives him a look. “Of course, magister. I’m not one to leave danger to fester; I’m sorry you ever had that impression of me.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Merlin’s brow furrows as he collects his thoughts. “You know, you seem so… charmingly nonchalant. Like nothing bothers you. But that clearly isn’t true. You care a lot, Valen, and it’s really, really nice to see. You’re someone who is just… good, you know? And I appreciate it.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda cheesy compliment. I’ve lost all my memories, you know, but being around you- and Lorsan, Cassadee, Mirael- honestly, I don’t feel like I’m missing much of anything. Everything I need is right here.”

He shrugs and turns back to the fire, as if he has not sent Valen’s mind reeling. Functionally, Merlin has been aware for only a week- one week out of thousands of years. He’s wondered how he’s been so calm about the whole thing, and…

And it’s hard to believe, but it’s much harder to doubt what Merlin says, not as he stares into the fire with that soft smile. It dawns on Valen that he probably knows more about Merlin than Merlin does- all of the legends, at least. And yet, despite that insurmountable legacy, despite the name and title that bears unimaginable weight, Merlin is… content. Content in just moving forward, and hoping he’s doing the right thing.

And isn’t that all that Valen’s doing, as well? He doesn’t deserve all this praise; he always shies away from large displays of gratitude, loathing how awkward they make him feel. Because he’s just moving forward, and trying to do the right thing. It’s a simple motive, really. Faith, and what effort it takes to retain it. He always thought Merlin would have some deeper, existential knowledge of the world that would put all else to shame- access to the secrets of the universe, and what not. And, certainly, his magical capabilities are second to none- but his philosophy, the way he lives; it very well might be human after all.

Maybe the usual Merlin, the one with all his memories, is the knowledgeable, immovable sage that Valen grew to look up to. Maybe, once restored, Merlin will become that god-like fairytale hero, wisdom surpassing all others, power knowing no ends.

Selfishly, Valen hopes that never happens. That the Merlin in front of him stays the same, annoying dimple and all, and keeps looking at Valen like that. Like he sees something in him that Valen never knew was there. He hopes Merlin never raises above their quips, their banter.

He know’s it’s all in vain. But god, he hopes.

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[katiekatdragon27]

Hello Bugsnax pookies have you missed me?

@rainbow-wolf120 recently rebought Bugsnax (bc it got taken off of Gampass which I HATE) and has been playing it almost every night. This has also resurrected an interest in both our journalist ocs, who are now queer-platonic married besties on a quest to write the most ridiculous articles the papers have ever seen (at least for Criss. Skunk is just dragged along and would much rather do more kind photography, like wedding photos or smth).

Criss is the chaos and the spunk, Skunk is the rock and the bait. Perfect hunters of bugsnax if you ask me.

We also changed some of the design choices too. Skunk now has spots on their body (hidden under fur but seen on their paws and nose) and Criss actually has bugsnax limbs b/c unlike Skunk, he can eat bugsnax but makes the conscious decision not to. Cuz they're gross. Except for chippies. Chippies are the exception.

Progress pieces below cut:

Have a good one dudes, and remember you are what you eat!

[silverskye13]

wait silver if renbob visits hels has he met the red king? and if so are they disastrous or iconic together

"Deliiiiivery! :D" Renbob calls in a sing-song voice, holding a stack of boxes in his arms. "RK, where you at my brother?"

He stands in the empty loading dock at the back of the Colosseum, smiling expectantly at the vacant bay. He likes hels. It's warm, and the people are interesting. It could stand to be a little more colorful, but not all pretty places are colorful. Like the beach for example! It's mostly just yellow and blue and hot, and it's still pretty.

(That's perfect actually! Hels makes him think of the beach: hot and monocolor, but somehow still interesting once you get past all the sand. Hah! Imagine a beach in hels! It'd be like a sauna, all steam and rocks.)

"RK I know you can hear me," Renbob calls again. "I can't hold these boxes all day! Well I can, but I will get bored you know?"

There is a grumbling, growling sound that comes from everywhere, but mostly the back of his head. It starts as several whispered and snarled words, and slowly coalesces into a string of coherent thought, "I don't answer to the name RK here, lad."

"My bad, must've gotten you mixed up with someone," Renbob chuckles. "Do you want your delivery?"

"Loading bay?"

"They won't let me park the van anywhere else, my brother. Oh! Please bring your favorite sword, if you don't mind? :)"

There is a cacophony of barks and growls as Red's presence slips out of the back of Renbob's mind. He wonders if Red knows that's the sound his thoughts make: an angry pack of wolves. They aren't kind wolves. They whisper a lot of unkind things when they trail after Red's thoughts. He wonders if that's why Red is always so nice to people: he's keeping the wolves from the door, so to speak.

Red strides into the loading bay, one hand on the wall as a guide until it ends in the open room. He steps confidently even when the wall is gone. The iron crown, sunk down low over his eyes, either doesn't hinder his sight, or he's memorized enough of the Colosseum that it doesn't bother him anymore.

"What sound do my thoughts make :O ?" Renbob asks. Red, who'd been walking a little too far to the left of him, twitches his big, wolf-like ears and realigns his path, meeting Renbob where he stands in front of his camper van.

"What sound do ye... Thoughts make?"

"Yeah, do they make like, sound? I always figured you'd hear a pleasant background of guitar and ukulele music."

Red tilted his in an expression that probably meant he was raising his eyebrows. It was hard to tell with the crown in the way. "Ye thoughts sound like yer voice. Though there do be a slight... Birdsong type noise."

"Is it chillaxin?"

"Aye sure."

"Groovy! :D" Renbob laughed. "I'll take it then! And like, you can take these."

He passes the stack of boxes to Red, who struggles a bit with their weight.

"What all have ye brought for me lad?" Red grunts, giving up on holding them all and setting them down. "All I asked for were some of those hot chips, and ye lemon squares."

"Oh it's just some bits and bobs, mostly," Renbob hums brightly, counting on his fingers. "There's a shulker of emerald and lapis (you said you were looking for a new color to go with all the red? :V those are opposite on the color wheel might be a good place to start! :) ), a shulker of flowers for dyes (all labeled. Are you color blind? I can't remember. Anyway I labeled the dye colors they make ^_^), three boxes of lemon squares (for you and your hand and a box for your Colosseum buddies! I'm sure they'd love some :D), two bags of spicy chippies, and I got you two bolts of fabric (your cloak is getting so torn up :( you've gotta take better care of your stuff brother!). Oh, and there's a few diamonds in there I nicked from Ren. (He won't miss 'em I promise ;) )."

Red tilted his head to the side, "How...? In the world...?"

"Hmm? :)"

"How do ye make...? With your voice...? Ye know what, it be unimportant," Red chuckled, a growling noise that fractured on the edges, a hint of the wolf-thoughts that leaked into real life. "Alas lad, I did not know ye would bring so much, else I would have had payment ready for such finery."

"Oh perish the thought, RK!" Renbob grinned, waving a dismissive hand. "You know you don't have to pay me!"

"Er... Red."

"That's what I said. :3"

"I see, ye be jesting?"

"Jest so!"

"Ah," Red smirked and leaned against the tower of boxes. "Ye said ye visited Ren. How fares our little brother?"

"He's older than both of us Red!"

"Aye, but he also be shorter than both of us."

Renbob laughed, bright and hearty, and for a moment, sunshine flickered in the Colosseum. Flowers bloomed around Renbob's feet. "Right you are, brother! Though I think he might be taller than me if I took my platforms off."

"Aye, but I see no universe where ye be making that particular wardrobe choice."

"I dunno. I was thinking about going to the beach after this. Do you guys have beaches in hels?"

"Aye, if you fancy soul sand by the lava lake."

"Oh man, I haven't taken a good lava bath in awhile!"

"Ye do love those an uncanny amount."

"It's exfoliating!"

"Makes me smell like burning hair."

"Well, to like, really enjoy it you have to get past the-- wait! You asked me a question?"

"Our little brother."

"Right! Ren's doing well! Gave him a ride over to his new season with his boyfriend."

Red, who had found one of the boxes of lemon squares during the conversation, coughed out a bite of lemon. "Begging your pardon?"

"You know, those go down a lot better with milk. I think hels dries them out a little. :("

"Ren has a boyfriend?!"

"Oh! Yeah, mister Docm77," Renbob beamed. "I don't think they've made it like, Facebook official yet, but they sure were making a lot of plans together for next season!"

Red sighed out a breath of relief, holding a hand to his chest. "Ye be jesting again."

"Mostly. :)"

"Well, when this great Book of Faces writes their names side by side, ye let me know."

"Certainly!" Renbob crossed his arms behind his back. "Oh, hey, before I go, like, could I ask you a huge favor?"

"Aye, lad?"

"I need a sword. Gonna be hopping to some dangerous orbits soon I think, and like, I'm real peace love and plants and all, so I can't make my own. But I can accept a gift, if you catch my drift?"

"Ah, suddenly all the gifts make sense," Red hums. He reaches down to his sword belt and unbuckles it, passing it off to Renbob, sword, scabbard and all. "Must ye take my most precious one?"

"You know how I work, Red. Only gifts given with love," Renbob grinned. It was a little sharper than it needed to be. Red couldn't see all the teeth. But it was nice to smile wide sometimes. "I do really appreciate it, my brother."

"Of course." Red smiled back, also showing a few too many teeth. Renbob felt a swelling of fondness for Ren's helsmet.

(It really was nice to be with kin sometimes, the people you could really be yourself with. Red didn't think he was unsettling, or fae-like. Red didn't go making a big deal about how widely he smiled, or how much he changed when his whims stretched him around. Red didn't begrudge the odd little pacts and rules he had to follow.)

"Well I'll like, catch you on the flipside brother!" Renbob said cheerfully. "Don't die while I'm gone, ya dig? :)"

"Don't go being any stranger," Red returned, picking up a box to carry back to his rooms. He would need help carrying them all.

[sitp-recs]

Part II: table for two

Following my list featuring the sea (now with a lil banner cause I’m getting in the reccing zone again baby!!!!), I thought I’d make this a series called “fic as a sensory delight” and continue the trend with good old Drarry domesticity walking hand in hand with some food porn appreciation. Who knew that Drarry living their best life while enjoying tasty treats could be so personal? These fics feel like a comfort meal when life gets too crazy and provide a delicious sensory experience. From cottagecore to road trips, found family, case fic, established relationship and even kinky delights - this list has a bit of everything and features food as a main character either bringing Drarry together, healing past traumas, helping them connect with their heritage or simply playing as a love language. I hope these fics bring you as much comfort, joy and healing as they brought me. Happy weekend!

🥘 Breakfast by @moonflower-rose (E, 3k)

Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.

🥘 Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

🥘 Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)

Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

🥘 Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (G, 4k)

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

🥘 Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You by InnerLilith (E, 11k)

In which Harry takes Draco out for Eritrean food, and Draco has a severe obsession with Harry’s hands. Smut ensues.

🥘 Harry Potter and the Showstopper of Doom by @doubleappled (M, 11k)

In which Harry’s an amateur baker, Draco wants him to go on the Great British Bake-Off, Petunia never misses an episode, Sue is a witch, Paul Hollywood is Paul Hollywood, and everyone eats a lot — like a whole lot — of baked goods.

🥘 Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 13k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

🥘 Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic (M, 15k)

“Hello, Harry,” Draco said. He was wearing a black turtleneck under a long grey overcoat, and he was already flushed with sweat. His hair was tied into a knot; it was longer than I remembered. He was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and I wondered if they were from laughing or frowning. “Hello,” I managed. “You must be with the British Ministry?’ He nodded. I thought I might faint.

🥘 Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 16k)

Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.

🥘 Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (M, 17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

🥘 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)

Harry is cooking food he couldn't care less about; Draco is making art he couldn't care more about. A story about kebabs, miniskirts and the way preservation can transform a lemon.

🥘 Passion Cake by @icmezzo (T, 19k)

It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)

🥘 Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

🥘 Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

🥘 Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

[drdemonprince]

listening to the new TS in bed

Fornite is very thin and tinny in its production but I love the lyrics about her wanting to murder people. Own it girl. lets be unhinged. Openly calling herself an alcoholic is cool too

Tortured Poets Department is somehow even MORE watered down and thin, you can barely hear Taylor's lyrics at points and the little sparkly elements at the end are so sad. Even Jack Antonoff is depressed now. The lyrics about Patti Smith and the Chelsea Hotel were fun, if only because i've been reading Smith's memoir. The sad desperation to convince the person she's addressing in this song (clearly Matt Healy) to round their relationship up to love or marriage is so pathetic and weak it is striking.

My Boy Only Breaks All His Favorite Toys could not be more generically a Taylor song, I can see why people thought it was AI. its more of a chippy midi file rough draft than The Great War, and that at least had great lyrics. This one is embarrassingly bad and visits nothing new. I like the line "Once I Fix Me, He's Gonna Miss Me." the open unhinged desperateness is the one interesting element of this record so far.

Down Bad blends the mundane with the fantastical in the most baffling way that makes it neither relatable nor moving. Matt Healy is an alien who abducted you?? youre gonna kill yourself bc he dumped you after two weeks??? sad beeping noises, some truly bad, piercing vocal lines. weird empty wooshing sounds that already overpopulated Midnights.

[prentissluvr]

SAM WINCHESTER AND WHY DIDNT I KNOW SOONER 👹👹👹👹👹👹

hisuOIHGSDKFJSOJ OH MY GOD CHIPPY ???????SDPFOHISUJKLHJKSDFKKSNDN MY LOVER ?? YOURE A SAM WINCHESTER STAN ???????DOHFJSKDF oh my god.... i've been sam winchestering all summer long I CANT BELIEVE WE DIDNT KNOW WE COULD'VE BEEN DOING IT TOGETHER ???????

[kaycynyrs]

Let's talk about Christopher Diaz in fanfic

I want to preface this by saying I'm pretty new to the fandom. I joined a few months or so before season 7 started dropping. So I'm probably not the best source for information when it comes to the show, but I definitely wanted to throw my hat into the ring. I'm aware that Chris is aging during the course of the show, and that he was much younger when he was first introduced, but it seems to me that a lot of fanfic writers and/or people in this fandom kinda struggle to realistically write and/or portray accurate representation of a preteen/early teenager as Chris is now.

I have absolutely no idea if maybe it's some kinda weird way of seemingly (kinda horribly) trying to portray disability, or maybe people in the 911 fandom just do not spend time around pre-teens, but as someone who does spend a lot of time with a pre-teen (specifically my 12 y/o brother) I definitely figured I could give some insight into this topic.

Now I do want to clarify before I begin, that in no way shape or form am I talking about the disabled portion of Chris' experience. I don't have the knowledge or firsthand experience or anything like that to even begin to try and be a voice on that topic, and if anyone else could give insight into that portion of Chris' experience, I welcome it gladly. Especially because it's an integral part of him and introduces some experiences that other pre-teens won't have to deal with which can change how Chris reacts/deals with situations.

What I can accurately talk about though is the things I've noticed in my brother as he goes through this phase of his life. I can also compare his experiences to what I remember from when I was his age, and I'm noticing he's going through certain things that I went through too. I know everyone is different, but hopefully this insight can help some people begin to understand Chris as he is now.

Now, on top of all the slow but noticeable bodily changes, these little sass masters are emotionally volatile. As in, the littlest things seem to be the end of the world. Especially if he's (my brother) is overtired. He tends to have tunnel vision, and he wants things to go his way. If it doesn't immediately go as planned, he tends to get very very frustrated. When that happens, he tends to blow up then go into his room until he's calmed down. After he's calm, then productive conversation can happen.

Kids Chris' age also tend to enjoy video games (like Roblox, or console games) more than they do coloring or legos or any physical toy. Not saying my brother has stopped playing with them all together, but it's definitely slowed down. If he were to play with legos, it'd more likely be a complicated lego set. Or complicated arts and crafts. His most recent projects being origami swords and origami paper dragons. Like, please don't forget that Chris is a good artist and is capable of drawing accurate human hearts.

I've also noticed that kids will go through a collecting phase. They'll collect anything and everything and it'll be the weirdest shit you could never predict. My brother when he was a bit younger literally stole every single sock in the house for his "sock collection" and stuffed an entire drawer full of them. Now he's moved on to collecting golf balls.

And, whether we like it or not, these kids are on the internet. My brother at least is very very influenced by online trends. Half the things he's interested in he saw on social media first. But that means that these kids have a rich meme culture. They have their own in jokes and concepts, same as we did growing up. And sure, some of the jokes are the same. I mean heck, my brother won't shut up with the "your mom" jokes, but they also have things like skibbidy toilet, chippi chippi choppa choppa, and other memes. (I have a list of current tween memes in my notes, but that can be a separate post if people truly want it)

Like it's such a missed funny opportunity! To have Chris reference current memes or current sayings like "gyot, what the sigma, and womp womp," and just having every single adult within the immediate vicinity be confused as fuck, and of course the kids won't explain, because why would they. It's funny to them that the adults are confused. Which also pairs with the amount of sass contained in their tiny orifices. Their come backs are insane and not to be trifled with. My brother has burned me so many times and so well that for all intents and purposes I should be a pile of ash on floor, honestly and truly.

Now, when it comes to romance, I have no idea when that changes. I think Chris is around 14 in the most recent season? And he's gone through a little heartbreaker phase, but currently, my brother at 12 is absolutely disgusted by romance. I myself am demisexual so I'm not a good reference for that, and can't really comment on when people start feeling attraction for others. But considering it's being portrayed in the show, I think it could be something to lean into as well.

All of this to say, Chris won't be this picture perfect baby all of the time. He'll get angry, frustrated, sad. Give people the silent treatment. He'll be weird and strange and say stupid shit. He'll also probably occasionally get confused over certain sayings he's never heard before. (E.g similes commonly used in writing) He'll try to get out of chores, and homework, and he'll whine and complain. His body is changing, he's probably experiencing growing pains, and he's probably starting to discover more adult things. But he'll also have his moments of insightfulness and humor. He's a little adult! And he should be allowed to be portrayed that way! Let Chris be a multidimensional character! It's what he deserves! And just to make it clear, this goes for every pre-teen on 911. I've just noticed the infantilisation of Chris a lot more than say Denny.

Please let me know your thoughts on this matter! I'd love to hear them! Have a wonderful day!