#I’m not against the ship I’m just addicted to messiness

[witchedwicked]

You ever have a ship opinion that’ll probably piss people off but not in the usual ways?

There’s this one ship I think about sometimes, and they’re genuinely crazy when it comes to the other, I don’t think many people would argue with that

But I go further

Person A could genuinely be like six years into a relationship, at the fucking altar with another person, families and friends flown in, venue paid for

And then Person B could stand up in the crowd like “Person A, I finally got my shit together!”

And Person A would leave their spouse to be at the altar without hesitation

Like that’s how insane I think these two are for each other

I don’t think a lot of people want to hear that I think this ship would fuck innocent people over for each other 😂 would cheat and break hearts and ruin friendships and embrace some inner ugliness for each other. but man as much as they’re willing to do good for each other, I think they have equal potential to do bad, fucked up things

It’s just their fucking tunnel vision

[heretyc]

Hi! I’m the anon with the maneater wife for Franco and I just wanted to say thank you so much! You met and exceeded my expectations ten fold with my request I really liked what you did and if you ever wanted to write more for it I’d absolutely love to read more! ♥️

(Also you were right on the money with the naming scheme I personally envisioned the mantis myself but you can absolutely leave this up to everyone else’s own interpretation)

I 100% plan on writing more! It's addictive I s2g. [NSFW ahead. Not kidding, I got real dirty with this lol]

Franco meeting you was totally unexpected; he was roaming the streets of Havana, trying to locate a buyer who pussied out on him to no avail. He stole Franco's money, and as a result, his trust. Nobody fucked with a Barbi. This shit was next to impossible, with how many dark alleyways there were in this place. However, he didn't expect to see such a gorgeous woman standing over the man who fucked him over. Your face bloodied and your throat seemingly purring with delight like a cat with fresh cream. Franco wasn't disturbed, no. He's seen much weirder shit. He just raised a brow, "Good, is he?" "Very." You licked your lips free of blood to no avail, your face coated in the substance, "However he tastes a little...bitter." "Considering he ingested my fuckin' goods..." Barbi smirked, growing amused at how you described your fresh kill, "I wouldn't be too surprised." It took you no time at all to connect the dots. Havana was known for its drug rings, so you merely raised a brow, ready to rise. "Did I take a loyal customer from you? My mistake." "Loyal ain't the word I'd use to describe him, doll," Barbi sucked his teeth, growing a little irritated at the reminder, "Fucker stole my shit." "...Ah." You nodded, moving to rip a lung from the corpse's midsection. "May I continue?" "By all means." He didn't understand why he had a hard-on, but he's not one to question the body's desires.

He couldn't let you go. Absolutely fuckin' not. That'd be a crime against his carnal desires. For some odd reason, he found himself captivated. You were a woman who knew what you wanted, and you wanted to steal hearts. Literally. So he got to know you a little bit. This is what he learned; A runaway from your home country due to your strange craving, you abandoned your life after a series of murders. You've always found yourself enamoured with the delectable nature of human flesh, and after your father cheated on your mother and left you two with nothing, you had even more of an urge. So on your 17th birthday, you were found eating him. His body cut into sections, his new, young wife - whom he cheated on your mother with - found her step-daughter with hands full of intestines. She didn't live long, either. Your 17th birthday was satisfactory indeed. The government, however, did not agree. You were messy and you left fingerprints after his wife's family called in for a wellness check. A little hard to call her family when her head's in the toilet and her cunt is stuffed full of knives. So you hid on a cruise ship to Havana, and have lived there ever since, surviving off of your cannibalistic urges and theft. So you were the infamous maneater, he questioned. You certainly had a reputation here...albeit quite niche. You ate only men. Sure, you tried to eat evil men, but all men were good enough to your palate. He was obsessed already. Was he a little intimidated? Absolutely. But that's even better. You grew to enjoy his company. And for the first time in your life, you didn't immediately think of ways to devour him. He wasn't edible...to your mouth, anyway. But your heart? Definitely. You wanted more.

Your first date was held at a restaurant that he co-owned. Well...co-owned meaning he tied the owner up in the back and threatened him if he had plans on ruining your date. His men held guns at the staff, and threatened them to continue on with their duties. He even went as far as to hire a chef known for working with human meat. Nicknamed "Havanabal" [Hannibal and Havana], it was fate. Franco was more than enchanted, leaning his head onto his gloved hand as you spoke of random topics, occasionally sipping on wine. You were, however, rudely interrupted. "Hey, boss," one of his henchmen walked inside of the empty dining room, and Franco couldn't stop his hands from clenching. "We got somebody wanting you.." "You were told not to fuckin' bother us." "I know, but there's a potential buyer wanting to see you," the man whistled, "Lookin' mighty rich." "He better be rich with patience, then," Barbi rolled his eyes, "I'm fuckin' busy." The henchman just nodded before looking you up and down, a smirk forming onto his face, "Damn...and I can see why. She's worth it." He didn't have the time to notice Lupara's barrel firing into his jaw, and the other men working under Barbi didn't think to expect one of their allies laying on the floor, bone shards and flesh littering the floor. You weren't even bothered, either; you simply smiled, "I like my men how like I like my popcorn...popped." You teased. Franco snorted before snapping his fingers, "Clean this shit up, and cut him into pieces. Put this fucker into mia bella's meal," he cooed at you, before turning to look at the men beginning to drag the corpse away. "Keep the fuckin' bones intact...I have an idea." Thankfully, no questions were asked, and the chef came out within the next half hour with two dishes. "Carbonara for the sir," the chef hummed, but he purred the moment he placed yours down, "And livernese for the cultured lady." "Thank you," you hummed, putting your hands together in delight, "it smells lovely...blood in the sauce?" The chef grinned, nodding, "Of course...it's the perfect taste and colour, no?" "Absolutely." He soon bowed, and left you two to eat. Now, Barbi should have gagged. This was against human nature...but he wasn't one to give a shit about human nature. He watched with interest as you slurped a piece of liver, moaning at the taste. "So...rich." He wasn't fond of eating another person, but even your reaction had him curious about the taste.

[Inspired by this anon here] Franco's support of your lifestyle had meant the world to you, and it was clear you were meant to be the moment he took you shopping to places. The bar, the grocery store, the sex club. You'd be leaning into him as he pointed at random men, hoping to help you find something to quench your thirst. "What about that fucker?" He picked his teeth with a toothpick, his free hand placed onto your hip with affection. His eyes were on a priest, speaking with a man. "Hmmm...tempting," you murmured, "priests tend to be quite...unholy. Unfortunately that transfers into their taste," you sighed, shaking your head. "Next one." "Alright...what about him?" He motioned to a man twitching out of his mind, seemingly shouting at nothing, "Nobody would miss him, darlin'." "He's high off of something...the only product I take is yours," you quipped, shaking your head. "Besides, I feel like the demons would miss him." "Touche," he clicked his tongue, before finally narrowing his eyes at a man walking past. "Him." You looked at the individual, noticing how...shady he looked. "Fucker's a rival of mine." "Oh...well, in that case..." You chuckled, taking his hand into yours. "Give me a hand."

[NSFW, blowjob] Your second date was in a hotel; it was moreso forced, seeing as he started a gunfight over your little cannibalistic habits, but he told you to meet him in the hotel across the city. You'd be safe there, he promised. And so, you separated. You stuck to the shadows and he shot at anybody who dared look at him. You took a little too long for his liking, and he worried if you got caught...until you walked into the room, coated in blood. A trademark look for you, but he simply raised a brow. "Sorry...I ordered takeout," you joked, sucking on a finger. God, if only you knew the effect you had on him- "Oh?" You purred, making your way over to him to place a hand over the bulge forming in his dress pants, "Am I making you...excited, Franco?" "I'm not the lying type, sweetness," he bit his lip, his breaths becoming shallow, "You make me fuckin' harder than steel." You simply laughed, pushing him onto the bed before locking the doors, and pulling the curtains over the windows. "I had a feeling...I saw your little friend get excited the day we met." You winked at him, your steps silent as you made your way to the bed. You took no time at all to pull his pants and boxers down, and you whistled at the size of the cock bouncing free from its confines. "Sorry...big friend." You snickered, a bloodied finger moving to trail down the shaft. A mere 9 inches and deliciously thick, you traced your bloodied nail along every vein that seemed to throb each time you came close, and you drank up Barbi's frantic breaths like water in the desert. "Does this excite you?" You tilted your head, beginning to stroke his cock with a slow pace. "Knowing a maneater is stroking your cock...knowing I could bite it off in one bite." "Fuck...yes," Barbi growled, a gloved hand gripping the sheets as the other gripped your scalp, "I could...fuck, I could die happy thinking about that shit." You smirked, your tongue peeking out to lick the bead of pre-cum forming on his cockhead. His cock was turning a sickening red, a result of the blood on your hands wiping off onto the thick organ, "You could, hmm? Tell me more." "Tear my fuckin' throat out, crown me with your halo of crimson," he began to pant, his cock beginning to twitch out of eagerness, "FUCK, you excite me, you vixen. Take me into your mouth, please," he huffed, his eyes wide in excitement. You felt like a drug with how desperate he was. He didn't have to ask; you were quick to take half of his length into your throat, bobbing your head as you moaned at the taste. The combination of his musk, the blood, the sweat...god, it was addictive. His hips showed no mercy as they began to thrust. "Bite me," he choked, "bite my fuckin' dick. Show me how much of a danger you are, you fuckin' TEMPTRESS," he groaned, tossing his head back. He cared not for the sirens outside, or the screams of people in the streets. You grazed your teeth along his length, not yet biting down, but making sure he knew they were an available threat should he thrust too hard and too fast. The thought of having you rip his cock off...fuck, why did that excite him? He felt his balls begin to tighten, and he yelled out in pleasure, cum rushing from his cockhead to travel down your throat. Nothing was more erotic, more divine than seeing you pull off of him, bridges of bloody saliva connecting your lips to his softening cock. You chuckled breathlessly, laying a kiss onto the cockhead, "I think I've found my new favourite taste..." Oh, how he became a whore for that sentence. A shame neither of you noticed Clyde Perry sneaking in during your moment of bliss.

[adamrenfro]

The Night Desk - 1.19.25

The Night Desk is a periodic late-night dive into ideas that linger long after the day ends.

Wisdom After Dark

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."— Albert Camus

Camus, the French-Algerian philosopher and writer featured in the banner image, wrote The Rebel in 1951 when the world was still picking shrapnel out of its skin from fascism and war. He talked about defiance not as hollow outrage or empty theatrics, but as acts of creation—standing up, doing something, building something, or just flipping off the status quo. The absurdity of life, according to Camus, isn’t something you beat; it’s something you face, head-on, with a laugh and a little swagger.

Fast forward to now. Different battleground, same fight. We’re up against algorithms and digital surveillance that know us better than our parents. Then there’s the exhausting drone of same-same opinions, split neatly between echo chambers. Camus’s advice still holds: be so unapologetically yourself that the world can’t ignore it. Write the book no one asked for. Make the indie film that scares Hollywood. Heck, keep hammering away at whatever it is I’m doing right now (Dear God, please don’t be a blog). Because in a world addicted to comfort, conformity, and scrolling through infinite feeds of someone else’s life, living on your terms—your raw, imperfect, messy, human terms—is the loudest act of rebellion there is.

Digital Tremors

Here’s a curveball: archaeologists are using Stable Diffusion’s AI not to create images, but to reconstruct ancient frescos. By analyzing brushstrokes, pigments, and artistic patterns, the AI helps match scattered fragments and even predicts missing sections based on the artist’s style. Historians are taking it further—applying the same tech to analyze handwriting, spot forgeries, and track how writing evolved. I love this type of innovation: using a tool in ways no one ever intended and uncovering something remarkable.

Deep Currents

Here’s the deal: analog is making a comeback, and it’s in the form of escapism. Vinyl records, typewriters, and film cameras aren’t just retro quirks—they’re deliberate rejections of the relentless hum of the digital world. Sure, some of those vintage typewriters on eBay end up as shiny collectables on somebody’s shelf, but vinyl? That’s a different story. I had a massive record collection back in the day—dragged it through apartments, overseas moves, and finally ditched it when CDs were “the future.” Big mistake. Fast forward, and my daughter discovers the music from my era, and guess who’s back to buying the same records I swore I didn’t need anymore?

Why does it matter? Because it’s a reminder that people crave something real, something they can hold, something that doesn’t vanish with a swipe. Writers, take note: ditch the screen, pick up a pen, and feel the weight of your words again. Give your brain time to think. It doesn’t need to see that blinking cursor on your monitor. In a world of infinite scrolling, slowing down isn’t just quaint—it’s revolutionary.

Screen Time Worth Your Time

This is a movie about friendship, identity, and rolling with life’s changes. Will & Harper follows Will Ferrell and Harper Steele as they hit the road after Harper comes out as a trans woman. The two longtime friends navigate their evolving bond on a cross-country trip that’s funny, raw, and full of awkward, heartfelt moments. It’s a reminder of how messy, surprising, and beautiful real friendships can be.

Through the Lens

This poster screams mid-century 20th-Century style—big, bold lines, loud colors, and that slick Art Deco flair. And as cool at the poster’s art is, it is propaganda, plain and simple, selling the fantasy of Ceylon (Sri Lanka today) as a sun-drenched paradise where good tea practically grows itself. But the truth? It was sweat and suffering. Tamil laborers, shipped in under brutal English colonialism, worked endless hours for scraps while plantation owners got rich. That muscular godlike figure? He’s not real. The woman bending over the tea leaves? She’s the one who built the tea industry, one back-breaking day at a time. This isn’t art—it’s a postcard from a rigged system.

Writer's Underground

Outlines are great for mapping out your intentions, but once you start writing, things tend to evolve. Characters in fiction might take on unexpected traits, themes might emerge organically, or new evidence in nonfiction might push your argument in a slightly different direction. The result? Your finished draft may no longer align perfectly with your original plan. Bring in the reserve outline. A reverse outline helps you evaluate what your draft actually says versus what you intended to say.

The reverse outline forces you to confront your writing’s architecture—the invisible framework holding it all together. When you write, especially in the heat of inspiration, your ideas may flow in fits and starts. You can easily end up with a piece that feels complete but lacks cohesion. By summarizing each paragraph or section into a single sentence, you can reverse-engineer your work. This process exposes the critical structural issues, like these pitfalls:

Weak or Missing Transitions: Does one idea logically lead to the next, or are you abruptly shifting gears without signaling the change to the reader?

Redundancies: Are you circling back to the same point repeatedly without adding new depth?

Structural Gaps: Did you unintentionally skip over critical steps in your argument or story, leaving readers feeling lost or unconvinced?

Tangent Traps: Are there detours that stray from your central theme, no matter how clever they seem?

Think of the reverse outline as a diagnostic tool. It helps you identify what’s there and what’s missing.

Night Track

Leave with this night track, and until next time, keep your lamp burning and your mind wandering. The best insights often come after dark.

[siriusblackdevotee]

love your head canons and thoughts (I lowks agree with your recent thoughts on the black brothers.. but lowks i’m a regulus apologist </3)

ANYYYWHOOO

I know you’re sirius centric but I wondering what are your thoughts on Lily x Barty? because it feels like they’d be the embodiment of “He was a punk, she did Ballet”

MY SECOND ASK??? ABT BARTYLILY??

oh no, did I say anything like Regulus is the worse sibling? I didn't mean to, I don't think either of them would be good with the way they were raised. (And nothing wrong with being an apologist to your favorite characters, it's normal!!)

And anyways yes?? I love BartyLily!! But i had to search up this song lyric, so I don't get the exact vibe you mean but I've read the lyrics!! I'll just wordvomit everything I think about them. It'll be messy btw. The summary is that it's a good ship and they CAN be good for each other. Also I'm willing to talk about anything (if I'm capable) even if it's not Sirius related, thank you for asking!!

(I'm SO sorry about the late reply, this has been in my drafts for 5-4 days now. IM SORRY, I HAVE FINALS I WASNT IGNORING YOU)

The fact that Lily is a muggle born and a girl, there's a lot of discrimination and stereotypes she faces but it only pushes her to work harder to defy those expectations. She's the star student, a prefect, the head girl, a teacher's pet, getting full marks on everything, always has her work done, always answering questions and getting points for her house. She's commonly found in the library studying, or in the common room studying, or in her room studying.

And she's burning out. She keeps declining her friend's hangouts to study because if she falls behind even once, she'll lose her spot. She's losing friendships and she doesn't even have any other hobbies, there's nothing helping her destress. At some point, she did love studying but with the pressure she places on herself and the responsibilities she took, it felt like a duty now.

Barty absolutely despises his father. He wants to be nothing like him. Everything he does or does to himself, it's to make his father disappointed in him, he's a rebel to his core. This meant constantly missing classes, failing tests, grades, getting detentions from misbehaving, getting into fights. He thrives in pain, from hidden tattoos to piercings and purposely getting himself beaten up. He builds himself a reputation that's a complete opposite from Lily.

But he's losing himself. It all started with wanting to rebel against his father but now he feels like he's turning into some violent animal, still not his father but worse than him. He's getting too quick to anger and violence, too addicted. His friends are either used to him being so destructive or he himself completely iced them out when they were genuinely worried for him, telling him he has to see what he was becoming.

Now I have no idea how they meet, like really meet. Maybe Lily is having a breakdown because of academic pressure and all, goes to an isolated spot and oh look who's here, Barty that's slacking off because this is his usual smoking spot or whatever. Lily is too tired from her breakdown to tell him off about the smoking or not being in class. Barty isn't really himself because one of his closest friends just dropped him (Pandora, definitely would stick with him longest) because of his spiraling behavior.

Anyway, so their defenses are at the lowest here?? Their sharp edges are softened or something. Does Barty offer his cigarette to a girl that looks like she clearly needs it or does Lily take the first step and ask for one with her Gryffindor bravery?

Barty is a little curious about her. He's smoking with Lily Evans. She obviously has a reputation as the smartest witch of their school. A goody two shoes. Lily is curious of him too. He's already famous for being a bad company, the school's bad boy if you will but all he did was offer/give a cigarette and just smoke with her quietly. Their perception of each other from what they've heard contrasts with what they're seeing. Of course they're curious.

Then Lily keeps seeking him out. Because this was the first time she broke rules, didn't get caught, and pretty much nothing else happened to her. It was exhilarating, she forgot about school for a second and she wants that feeling more. (Not the smoking, the rule breaking).

And Barty is just desperate for normal human interactions since he pretty much has no friends now. So he lets her keep coming. It convinces him that he's not a monster, not yet at least. Otherwise she wouldn't be seeking him out so much.

Maaybee one time Barty didn't bring his pack? Maybe they're just skipping classes together now? In silence first but after some reluctant conversation, they're fully talking? Getting to know each other now? Maybe Barty offers to "get out of here" so now they're off campus? Rule breaking together?

I have no idea what they do off campus but it's rule breaking, so Lily is hella excited. They could just be at a park, chilling because the other things Barty usually does (eg, vandalism) is too much for Lily, the chronic rule follower. So Barty tones it down.

Maybeee they can't always hang out during classes. Maybe they're craving each other's company because they're literal loners. Maybe Barty is joining Lily in her study sessions at the library, because what else can he do? He can't disturb her. Maybe at some point, Lily is tutoring Barty? Because he's so far behind?

When she's tutoring Barty, she's going over old material. She's studying but it doesn't feel like a burden anymore because she's doing it for Barty, which she isn't even pressured to do. She likes these tutoring sessions.

Plus the fact that Barty is naturally smart so it's not frustrating her. He picks things up easily, he's catching up, his grades are visibly improving even though he doesn't care. He cares when Lily is praising him for his grades.

They're bonding, they don't even remember what made them so angsty. Barty stopped being violent because all he does is spend time studying or skipping class with Lily. Lily stopped panicking and breaking down because the whole "proving herself" shit doesn't matter when she's studying or skipping class with Barty. They feel like themselves again.

There's definitely stolen kisses at the library or hook ups in the bathroom stalls or at restaurants. They do develop an intimate relationship at some point.

And thennnnn Lily is being pulled aside by a concerned McGonagall because her grades have been dropping and she's been neglecting her prefect/head girl duties or maybe she sees a pure blood take her first place at the end of the year and hears demeaning comments for it. Then Barty Senior is saying how proud he is because Barty stopped getting into detentions and his grades have been improving until he was actually a high achiever.

It's a violent whiplash and they realize the other is a bad influence. Being told "I'm proud of you" by your father was the same as becoming him and it disgusted Barty. Hearing those discriminating comments made Lily realize what all her effort was about, and she's kicking herself for ever forgetting.

And they break up!! But it's okay cause they're a fundamental part of each other's growth!! Barty isn't just a violent kid anymore, no longer self destructive!! Lily now knows how to take a breather every now and then!! And then they get their friends back!! Because Lily makes time for them and Barty isn't spiraling!! Happy ending!! :3

I mean I do have like a couple more thoughts but...its a mess in my head rn

[ceoofhelaegon]

I have some questions. What are all your favourite ships whether they be canon or not canon, from books, tv shows, movies and why they are your favourite. And what are all your favourite romance tropes and character tropes and why they are your favourite.

Hey, love.

Those are great questions and I hope to answer them in a satisfying way.

I think the best way to describe my ships is “complicated”. When they have so much against them, when it shouldn’t work but somehow it does. The first one that comes to my mind is Jax x Wendy from Sons of Anarchy.

They start off at a horrible way, she’s an addict and she’s pregnant with Jax’s baby and she overdoses, his mother has to save her and the baby. They don’t have such a complicated relationship, it’s so fascinating and interesting.

I’m of the belief that both of their lives would be much better off if they stayed together, and I’ll die on that hill.

One that I loved was jaspenor from The Royals

They started off so MESSY, she’s a Princess and he’s her bodyguard and she takes advantage of him but in the end he had the upper hand the whole time. They earned the “best couple” from the show, it was messy, toxic and deceitful but they honestly made each other better in the end.

Those are two examples that encapsulates my favourite ships and why helaegon speak to me in such an amazing level.

My favourite trope is forced marriage, or fake dating…also people being too proud of angry to talk about their feelings, is just top tier.

[thistlecatfics]

2022 Roundup

Thanks for the tag @danpuff-ao3 ! and oh yours was so lovely to read through.

Rules:

Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular),

your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year,

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year,

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year,

and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

Danpuff covered nearly everyone I thought to tag but also @fonkeloog @billsfangearring @narcissa-black-supermacy​ @fvckyouimaprophet @sliebman10 and let me just tag them again: @broomsticks @vdoshu​

5. Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

1. Icarus (Pansy/Millicent/Parvati, 20k, M)

The addiction/trauma recovery/we’ll kill each other or save each other fic. 

I love my characters. I always do, and I think it’s my strength as a writer. But these three have such tight grips on my heart that it’s almost painful to reread and yet I keep doing it. 

2. Duty (Regulus/Sirius, 2k, M)

Regulus Black’s life in less than 2,000 words. 

So intensely personal I never expected it to but one of my more popular fics. I’m so proud to have created a literary work I’m proud of woven almost purely out of myself and my hurt.

3. Alphard’s Favorite (Sirius/Peter, 5k, M)

Peter is a good friend to a drunk and sad Sirius... to a point.

More fics where Peter fucks 2k23!!! But also - resentful Peter is SO much fun to write from, and this has my favorite concluding line I’ll ever write. 

4. Family Legacy (Andromeda/Ted, Remus/Tonks, Teddy Lupin/Victoire, 1.6k, T)

This tragic, queer family can give us all hope. 

Proof I can also write something wholesome. Queerness and transness is beautiful, and we are a legacy. Not overly sweet but pure honest love. 

5. you will burn right now but then you won’t regret it (Fleur/Tonks, 32k, M)

All is not well, and Tonks and Fleur are on the case (and definitely don’t have feelings for each other.)

A case fic! I wrote a case fic! One that says “fuck the police” and “messy dykes deserve love too.”

4. your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year

It’s ambitious to say these will all be released in the new year based on 2021’s writing pace BUT

My Black family AU

Inspired by Jade City by Fonda Lee, I want to write an ambitious Black-family-against-the-world fic. Andromeda does not run away, and Sirius sorts Slytherin, and everything changes. Each cousin has their own POV chapters. It would be by far my most ambitious writing project, and I doubt I’d finish in 2023. I’ve been sketching out broad arcs for each character, outlining and writing some scenes to practice getting in their little morally grey heads. Ships as they stand now would be Sirius/Remus, Andromeda/Bellatrix, Andromeda/Ted, Narcissa/Lucius BUT I also want to fit in some Narcissa/Lily and maybe some Regulus/Barty. Who knows. I’m excited.  

Bellatrix: Protector to threat to dangerously out of control to [spoiler!]

Andromeda: Lost girl with a serious drinking problem to spy to survivor

Narcissa: Naive romantic to realist politician

Sirius: Little rebel princeling to a responsible family head

Regulus: Underestimated spare to hero

Andromeda Liberata book 3

I’ve written a bit for it, but I’ve been feeling uninspired. It’s not abandoned, but it’s certainly on the backburner. 

Fenrir/Remus trauma processing fic

When you go back to the person who hurt you to try to make the trauma meaningful or manageable, but it ends up making you feel so much worse.

Tonks/Bellatrix My Dark Vanessa inspired fic

I thought I could get this done for Fuck the Faculty but alas I got concussed again. Defense professor Bellatrix. Grooming. Incest. Bella getting revenge on the sister who abandoned her, but also whoops maybe she does have genuine feelings for Tonks, but whoops again she’s destroying her. 

3. your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

Freedom - writing boldly and unapologetically.

Exploration - I wrote a wholeeeee lot of different types of fics this year.

Confidence - I was confident in my writing this year in a way I wasn’t in 2021. 

2. your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

I need to find a way to integrate writing into my non grad school, non daily drinking life. (I stopped drinking by myself on weeknights in 2022, and, while it’s been good for my health, it’s been terrible for my writing output.) As a private practice therapist my schedule will be entirely my own which is both exciting and terrifying, and I need to add structure.

I want to work on another long, plotty fic! That Black family AU that’s wrapping itself around my soul. 

1. and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

The ending line for Alphard’s Favourite which floored me as soon as it entered my head: 

He fucked Sirius three more times, once more at Hogwarts, twice more afterwards, each time calling him his good boy, his favourite.

He fucked him a fourth time, if you count blowing up a street and pinning the blame on Sirius, which Peter did.

[book-of-baba-fett]

Passing Time - Hunter x Fem!Reader

In between jobs on Ord Mantell, you meet a mysterious man named Hunter who’s more than willing to help you kill some time.

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, bar hookup, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, vaginal and anal fingering, light degradation, light spitting, light biting

Notes: hit 99 followers on the same day as The Bad Batch finale so I thought of a little Hunter smut as a treat. This was my take on@delusionsxfgrandeur ‘s Redefining smut challenge!

Word Count: 2.2k

Cid’s bar is as seedy as ever, with grime covering every surface including the glass you’re drinking from. You examine the glass, twirl around the brown liquor, then pour it down your throat figuring the alcohol must work as a disinfectant. You just finished a drop off for Cid and are hanging tight while your astromech works on some maintenance for your ship. The droid was going to comm you once everything was flight ready for your next job, but for now you’re trying to to find the best way to way to kill time. And the ache in between your legs reminds you that you can’t even remember the last time you had a good fuck.

Scanning the room, you realize there’s not much to work with. Just a weequay and an ithorian, both obviously intoxicated as they argue over a game in the corner. Otherwise the place is empty, except for a man sitting on the other edge of the bar. By the Republic issue armor he wore, you could assume he was a clone but he was unlike any clone you had seen before. There were some basic facial similarities, but he wasn’t identical to is countless counterparts. He had long dark hair, that curled to his neckline, kept away from his face by a red bandana. What captures your eyes is the skull tattoo covering half his face; you can’t help but lick your lips when you wonder how far it goes down his body.

“Hey Cid,” you wave down the Trandoshan. “Another round for me, and a drink for the man down the end of the bar too.”

“Huh, Dark and Broody?” Cid questions you, a confused and judgmental look on her face. “Sheesh, kid, I guess everyone has their own type but fine.”

Cid hands the drink to the man, who looks around the bar surprised until his eyes found you. He cocks a brow, and he lifts the drink up to you. You mirror his movements and you each take a sip at the same time. He slowly rises from the seat and stalks his way towards you.

“So you must be Dark and Broody?” You extend your hand to him. The man let’s our a soft chuckle.

“Did Cid tell you to say that?” His low and husky voice asks before he properly introduces himself “It’s Hunter, and I must say you don’t seem like Cid’s usual clientele.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirk at him. He must be another bounty hunter under Cid’s employment, you think as you notice how armed he is. He leans on the counter next to you, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes drift up and down your body. If he’s in your line of work, maybe he’s in the same need for some relief as you are. You shift in your seat, painfully aware of your growing arousal as you and Hunter make small talk. You had your fair share of lovers, but there was something about his magnetic ruggedness that intrigued you. That and the fact that he seems reluctant to give you any information about himself, but that wasn’t too uncommon in your line of work. But you don’t need his life story, you just need him to satisfy your itch.

“So how’s the men’s room here?” You ask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ahh, it seems you’ve broken his tough guy facade to earn a flustered look on his face.

“The men’s room,” you repeat. “The last time I was here the women’s door wasn’t working properly and when you closed it you were locked in or you had to keep the door open. And I’m really looking for some privacy and no interruptions, so I’m curious if the men’s room will work.”

You down the rest of your drink, licking your lips as you finish, carefully keeping eye contact with him as you do. You watch his face process your words, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes and the corner of his lips on his tattooed side rises as he realizes your meaning.

“I think it’ll do just fine, I can show you the way?”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, taking his hand.

***

Your hands are on each other the second the door closes behind you. His grip on your plush ass, pulling you tighter to him. Yours find their way through his curls, tugging his hair as his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. His large hands travel up your curves, until they reach your head and cup your face as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Such a dirty little thing aren’t you?” He rasps out. “Going into a filthy bar bathroom with a man you don’t even know?”

“What can I say? I like things a little messy.” You glance at him through heavy lashes as you grind against his codpiece.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, the deep tone in his voice going straight to your core, where you already feel your arousal dripping from you. You follow his command, just for him to spit in your eagerly awaiting hole. He groans as you close your mouth and swallow it. You bring your lips back to his as you make out with him again.

One of his hands leaves your face so it can trail down your waist and under your top, roughly groping your breast. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You feel him smirk against you, as he adjusts his ministrations so he’s lightly pinching your pebbled nipple. Your head involuntarily tilts back at the please and his mouth connects with your now open neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

You stumble backwards under his exploring hands, your back hitting the bathroom door behind you. Hunter uses this to his advantage, and grabs hold of your hip with one hand while the other continues its squeezing of your breast. He brings a leg in between yours and presses it against the apex of your thighs. You cry out as you finally have some friction against your aching core. You instinctively grind on his thigh; the crease of his armor and the seam on your pants combining to rub against your clit in the most addicting way that you can’t stop yourself. Your hands reach to his shoulders as you balance yourself against him.

Hunter watches, eyes blown out in lust, as you use him to chase your own needs. The hand on your hip assists your movements, making you gyrate faster and faster into the man. Moans are rolling off your lips, and your head snaps back against the wall as you feel the tightening coil of an approaching orgasm in your stomach.

Hunter bends down to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath panting against your skin as he whispers, “Such a sexy thing, riding my thigh to get yourself off. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Dirty little slut. “

You whimper against him, your eyes shutting so you can focus on your impending climax. A harsher bite on your neck makes you yelp, and your eyes snap open to see Hunter staring at you.

“I asked you a question, be a good girl and answer me."

Your mind stutters for a moment before his harsh gaze reminds you of what he asked you. “Yes... I’m so close!” You gasp out at him, as you continue humping his leg. He smirks as his smoky eyes stay locked your face, watching every reaction as you build to your peak.

“Go on them, cum for me.” You cry out on his order, and his mouth clamps down on yours so he can muffle the sound to avoid being discovered by the few patrons in the bar. Your orgasm rolls through your body, your hips unrelenting in their thrusting on Hunter’s thigh as you ride out the waves of bliss. Once your movement slows, Hunter pulls back from kissing you to examine you in your post ecstatic state. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes drooping; you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time. And he wants to make you do it again.

He removes his gloves as he shifts his thigh out from under you, making you slump against the wall. You sigh, feeling him drag a hand over your covered center. He groans, feeling the wetness seeping through your pants from your previous orgasm. His fingers fumble with your buttons, then he roughly pulls the pants down and over your ankles. He presses his face against your panty covered mound, inhaling deeply as he’s intoxicated by your arousal. Looking back up at you, he licks a long strip over your panties, circling around your hidden clit. You moan from the overstimulation as you grip the door handle behind you, your legs still feeling like jelly and struggling to hold you up.

Sensing your predicament, Hunter slides your panties down your legs and removes them, tossing them in the pile with your pants. He then props one of your legs over his shoulder and presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you upright.

His warm breath wafts against your sensitive skin as he separates your folds with two thick fingers. His tongue slowly peaks out, teasing your swollen clit with delicate flicks. You groan as you feel the warm wetness of him lapping up the release of your previous orgasm. Once he’s sure you’re past the point of overstimulation and ready to go again, he attacks with more fervor.

Your head snaps to the wall again as he starts devouring you with a renewed intensity, his lips closing around your clit as his tongue rapidly circles and flicks it. He switches up the rapid movements with broad, strong strokes against your pussy, making your hips arch into his face to push more pressure from him. He hums into you as you moan above him, the vibrations adding to the euphoric sensation of his tongue against you. He’s a quick study to your body, following any hitch of your breath or moan to follow what you like and return to those sweet spots over and over again as he enjoys you.

You feel a prodding at your entrance as he pokes one large finger into you, your hips keening against him as you allow him to push deeper into you. With a gasp, you feel him add a second finger into your tingling pussy. He groans, watching your cunt grip his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you.

“So wet for me, mesh’la.” He growls dipping his head back to lap at your clit while he fingers you. Matching the pace of his hand and mouth, you feel the tension of another orgasm building up. His fingers crook inside you, pressing against that hard to reach spongy spot inside you.

“Yes, right there!” You cry out, begging him not to stop. He focuses on hitting that spot with every thrust of his hand. He brings his other hand around to your ass, squeezing your cheek and bringing you closer to him to ravage. Your breath leaves your body in wanton moans as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again. The hand on your ass slides inward, until you feel a single finger circling around your other entrance.

“Hunter!” You yelp as the finger pokes in, teasing along your sensitive entrance. Your head flops down so you meet his eyes, a devilish, lustful darkness taking over them as he continues eating you out while fingering both of your holes. His pace in in your cunt increases, finger bending and stroking you just where you need him as he wrenches your orgasm out of you.

Toes curling, head snapping back, and eyes rolling into your head: you cry out. Your body tenses, your legs quake and you would fall over if it were not for him holding you up. Your pussy pulses as you release, the waves of ecstasy overpowering your body. Hunter works you through your release, removing the hand from your ass to keep you steady. He softly laps at your folds and slows the push of his fingers in you until he feels your walls stop pulsing then he removes them.

He rises off his knees to kiss you, his mouth glistening with a mixture of your release and his own spit. You lean into the kiss, one much softer than the ones that started you escapades. You curse to yourself when you notice your comm going off.

“That important?” Hunter grumbles against your skin, his lips dragging along your cheek.

You groan, realizing it’s your droid letting you know your ship is ready to go. “Sadly, it is.” You had wasted to much time before starting your next job. You look at him with apologetic eyes, your previous experiences with men leading you to think he might be angry about your lack of reciprocation. To your surprise, he grins and holds up his hands as he steps away.

“No worries, I get it. Duty calls.” He hands you your pants from off the ground, you mumble your thanks, looking around for your underwear when you realize he’s twirling them in his fingers. He smirks at you before he sniffs them and places them in a compartment on his belt. “Hey, if you want these back you’ll just have to find me next time you’re back on Ord Mantell.”

[spikesbimbo]

Say Please

Summary:  Dilf Daddy Spikes rest stop

Paring: Spike Spiegel x Reader

Tags: oral sex, spit kink, age gap, smoke kink, bimbo gf

wc: 2.3k

a/n: for my daddy, my superhero yes i said it was was coming out in a few days, but i did it today bc dilf spike was the only thing on my mind.

-

“Fuck.” 

You turned and saw him mumbling curses walking through the door. His messy hair, messier now than when he left. Specks of grey flicked in there, wanting to run your fingers though it, so soft you thought.

“You okay?” you asked, eyes bigger as you watched him walk towards the couch, laying one of his guns down on the table.

“No baby, c'mere.'' he said, dragging you into his lap, playing with the hem of your mini skirt barely covering the swell of your ass. His hands resting on it, sneaking his fingers up there, making their way under the strap of your panties.

You were his warmth in the cold vastness of space. Relaxing whenever he was around you, being the only thing he would look forward to coming back to. Not the annoying kids and women he had to deal with daily, their attitudes nothing compared to yours, his sweet angel.

You looked up at him, seeing the stubble grow as he'd been gone for a day and a half, not caring about taking care of himself. Which you took into your own hands, wanting to treat him the way he deserved. Him being the only reason you were alive.

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

After saving you, you instantly fell for him, shyly flirting with him, until one night the tension got too high and yall fucked.

Waking up in the morning seeing he didn't care, you just went on about your day until it turned night again as he knocked on your door. Remembering him saying “you sure” before placing his lips on yours, immediately picking you up and taking you to his room, almost tripping over the dog how fast he was walking. God damn he hated that dog.

And after this it happened a few more times. Then one day you confessed your love for him after drinking too much, you crying as he watched the scene unfold before leaving the ship. Leaving you to cry even more, worried that he was going to get rid of you like they did, worried that he left his gun.

He left his gun, yes. He was so shocked he just left, face unfazed but his mind was racing. Did you say that because you were drunk? Because he's the only man you've ever been with, the only man that hasn't treated you like shit.

He came back to you lying on the couch, eyes red and closed asleep with the dog cuddled in your arms. Curled up like a baby, knowing you were cold, so he went and got a blanket. Laying it on you while sitting next to you, looking intensely at your pretty face wondering if what you said was true.

You, a pretty young thing with a life ahead of her, with him? An old man that was a bounty hunter for a living?

You stumbled in your sleep, feeling right next to you, being a light sleeper after what happened to you. Opening your swollen eyes faintly seeing his hand resting on you. Quickly trying to get up stumbling, the effects of the alcohol not wavering yet, but luckily he was there to catch you. Your hands started shaking along with your eyes starting to water again. “M-sor-” 

He pulled you in, his lips touching yours, placing his big warm hand on the back of your head. Holding it gently as he pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his other arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. 

You confirming that you actually had feelings for him while he pulled you into his arms, kissing you on the top of your head while mumbling out how he was sorry for just leaving like that. 

“Im not going anywhere doll.”

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

“God damn, I got a headache” He said, pulling the cigarettes out of his pocket, wanting the stress to be gone completely as he adjusted you in his lap so he could do so. Wrapping his arm tight around your waist, fingers gripping onto that tiny shirt you were wearing, exposing your cleavage right in his face. 

Your eyes still so innocent as he kissed you again, lightly but passionately as he turned you to face him completely. Chest to chest while he lit the cigarette between his fingers, using you as a shield from the air flowing.

“Spike...”  you said just loud enough for him to hear, dragging your fingers down his chest looking down as you waited for his response.

“Hmm?” he said, placing his hands on your hips, resting the cigarette between his index and finger. Blowing out the smoke as he moved his head down under to look up at your hidden face.

Your body grew with heat as you could feel his bulge under your panties, internally thinking that maybe you should've worn pants, but you didn't have any. All you had were the skirts he bought you.

“Hmm baby?” he said again, his hand free of the cigarette moving up to your throat, gently grabbing the base of it to force you to look at him. “You wanna take care of me? Like you always do?”

You nodded, body itching to move as your white cotton panties grew clearer with each touch. Yes you babied him, but he took care of you. You couldn't do anything on your own, not knowing how to read, write, even cook. 

But you were trying; studying while he was gone with the books he ‘borrowed’, and making dinner every night. At least trying, the only thing you were good at was cheese bread, but luckily he would eat anything.

“What a sweetheart, such a good girl.” he cooed, taking a puff from the snout. Dick growing harder by the second as he thought about the last time you ‘helped’ him out. He took his lips off blowing the smoke in your face, just how he knew you liked it. “Not like these other bitches, no ... I got me an angel.”

You got off his lap, he fingers slowly being dragged away as you tried to hold back your smile. You loved making him feel good, it being the only thing you were truly good at, but you had no shame. Some people were gifted in different things, yours was making your man feel good.

“Woah baby, can't see everywhere at once.”  he teased, watching you strip for him. Taking off that top exposing your bare chest, pulling down your soaked panties clinging to your thighs. Eyes looking all over your figure as you were only in that oh so tiny skirt now, being pushed up to just cover your aching cunt, so embarrassing.

You got on your knees, already palming his crotch, head resting on his thigh as you waited for him to tell you if it was okay. Mouth already watering at the thought of gagging on him, the thought of him fucking your face, then maybe you.

“off.” you whined as he stroked your head, hand under your chin; looking at you intensely, eyes not leaving you once as you pulled his pants down freeing his erection. 

It slapping him against his stomach, hard as could be, so neglected. But it's okay, you were here to relax him, ease him, make him feel the best he ever has.

“Open up” he said, tensing his jaw. His fingers spreading your lips letting themselves in before  he let his spit fall into yours. A string of droll connecting you two. Pulling back and watching his mix with yours on your tongue, letting it drool in your mouth, before he leaned back, giving the okay.

You turned your attention to his cock, so hard and pretty. The vein on the underside begging to be touched, the tip so fat that you couldn't take it anymore. 

You let your tongue hang out, your spit dripping onto the head before connecting your lips to it. Kissing all over it, sucking it like a lollipop while moving your hands to play with his balls, wanting to get him real worked up.

“So pretty.” you mumbled out, kissing on its side before taking it in your mouth, its fat heavy weight resting on your tongue. His downturned eyes looking at you take him whole, groaning at the feeling of the warmth surrounding his cock. Moving himself up to see you better, wanting to imprint this pretty picture in his memory.

His sweet baby with his balls at her chin, eyes watering in pleasure, so precious. His shoulders still tense as he wrapped his hand around your head once again.

“You mind doll?” he asked as if you could respond. You did your best to shake your head with his fat cock stretching your mouth out, wanting him to use you, loving it. 

Loving when he tied you up and fucked you like some street whore, loving it when he woke you up in the middle of the night to ride him because his dick was hard. You loved it, loved being his toy.

His hand encompassing your whole head within it started pushing your head back and forth, starting slowly even though you could take it. At first you couldn't even fit it in your mouth, choking on it after the tip was in, but after a lot of practice and praise you were an expert at this, even deeper throating him with no prep.

“Fuck, baby… you’re mouth is so good. Such a little hole for me to use” he said, gripping the back of your neck, using it to control your movements, bobbing your head faster while you whimpered at the feeling of his tip in the back of your throat.

“You like that? You like me telling you how well you take my cock in that cute little mouth of yours, huh?”

His words made you whimper again, his cock throbbing at the vibrations. Your eyes gleaming up at him, looking at him pleadingly. The salty taste of pre-cum and the ache of your jaw was addicting, too addicting.

He saw the fat tears getting ready to fall onto your eyelashes and felt an emptiness of heat fuse in his stomach. His angel was so perfect, so good and submissive for him. He felt his balls start to swell as his body tensed up to orgasm, ready to blow.

“I’m gonna cum, doll. Im close… fuck. You feel so tight. You gonna swallow it all, sweetheart or you want me to pull out? You gave him the look you always did, just wanting his cum, not caring how you got it. Him immediately understanding. “You gonna be my good girl?”

His cock so hot now that was taking up all the room in your mouth and was starting to twitch and throb. You used your tongue, licking against the underside vein and closed your lips of the way back, pulling in your cheeks like he taught you

“Ah… fuck. I’m cumming, fuck baby. Fuck”

You felt the hot cum reach the back of your throat choking on it, some of the cum spilling out the sides with his cock still on your mouth  as he pulled out and let the remaining cum be painted on your face. “Bang.”  he muttered under his breath.

You kept everything in your mouth, holding back the urge to cough, wanting to show it to him proudly. Your cheeks puffy as he came down from his high admiring your appliance, eyes meeting yours, as he took your jaw in between his fingers opening your mouth to see for himself. Knowing you loved his approval.

“Such a good girl… letting me cum all over you, wherever I want. What a pretty girl.”

He squished your cheeks, making some of it fall out to your protest. Kissing you for being so irresistible, his thumb tracing your lips after, his saliva and cum staining them prettily.

“Swallow angel.”

He peeked down after you moaned, seeing your thighs reflecting off the lamp so soaked and messy, leaving a wet spot underneath you. Your legs shaking as his cock grew harder again at the sight.

“I got you, baby. I’m gonna you feel good, gonna make it all feel better. ”

[wandsandwheezes]

Assassini | G.W

Warnings // 3.5k // SMUT 18+, Sex, knife play, assassins, murder, attempted assassination??, contracts, ownership, breath play, begging.

A/N // Hi I am literally obsessed with assassins creed that is the only thing that prompted me to want to write this. this is not by any means my best work i just couldnt get the idea out of my head. that is all. thank you @gcdric​ for helping me as historically accurate as possible. 

Your chest heaved as you stepped through the opening double doors and into a stunning reception area; rolling stone walls and a beautiful glass ceiling that showcased the fantastic hues of the Florentine sunset. You knew what you had to do, after all you would have never taken on the task if it didn’t fall within your capabilities. You rubbed your hands together before smoothing out your dress, you felt a fool coming to a high-class party on your own, knowing that the image of a stunning and well presented lady such as yourself standing on her own was sure to cause a scene among men, but with such an important target you couldn’t afford to be chasing around or keeping a date in tow; there was simply too much to lose. 

Feeling the cool metal of the dagger sheathed against your thigh brought you back down to reality, your mind had begun to wonder of a life away from the horrors that came with the trade, what it was like to be a trophy wife on the arm of a wealthy man. That was not the life you had been blessed with, instead you spent your days between contracts, taking out whoever you needed to to get the pay, taking your prize gracefully before you were onto the next. People feared your ability to be able to take a life without remorse and without question, that was the reality of who you were; a cold blooded assassin. 

The latest contract had been practically shoved down your throat, only just finishing up business before you were being shipped off to track the next target. No rest for the wicked. You were on your way to the grandest bash of your career, it would be packed with every wealthy man you could think of, every bachelor prancing around trying to find a wife but your eyes were dead set on finding one man - George Weasley. A very wealthy man, but ruthless, known well for the money of his family name but known better by the blood money that kept him feared by many. It was a contract that only a fool would take, failure ended in torture. You were no fool and you would not fail. 

You knew the person who had last attempted the Weasley Contract - not the brightest man but someone who was notorious for getting the job done, it all came as a surprise at the order when the news of his death spread through the halls like wildfire. His tactics were good; sneak past the guards and get him dead in the night, his downfall was that George knew he was coming, waited for him even. You were glad however, that despite taking on the failed contract, you had the element of surprise on your side, nobody suspects a woman, not even George. 

You caught sight of him standing with his hands pressed against the railing as he leaned over the balcony, eyes surveying the room as he spoke to someone standing beside him. George was tall, that much was obvious from the way he towered above most people standing around him, he had a chiselled jaw, dark striking eyes and long messy orange hair. He looked like a god, a pedestal he had placed himself on, and you knew that you had to get closer to him, better yet get him alone. 

You had never once whored yourself out for the sake of a job, your years upon years of training gave you a sharp enough edge that you wouldn't ever need to rely on a feminine touch but tonight was different, the way his eyes scoured the crowd, you knew he was hungry for some female attention and if you had to give in to anyone for the sake of the job, it would be him. 

You wore a beautifully detailed red gown, the corset pulled tight around your waist emphasised your ample breasts, threatening to spill at any moment and left not much to the imagination. Your plan was to catch his eye and you knew this was the dress that would do that. You followed his gaze and placed yourself directly in his line of vision, careful not to make yourself too obvious as to not attract unwanted gazes. When he caught sight of you he swore he could have stopped breathing, you truly were a vision of God. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of you from that moment on and you had to admit that having a lingering male gaze did make your cheeks flush, suddenly feeling stuffy under the many layers of dress. George instructed one of his men, rather curtly, to bring you to him, a task that was handled quickly and with hurry as one of his aides approached you. “Mr Weasley has requested your company.” 

Perfect, everything was going exactly to plan. As you were led up a grand staircase and past the guards that hadn’t even given you a second look. Now that you were on the private balcony, surrounded by members of the Weasley family and their company who were all schmoozing without any care in the world for the hundreds of guests below them, each one hoping they would be lucky enough to get that special invitation. Standing just behind George you were able to see with your own eyes just how much he truly did tower over you. Something inside of you bubbled and you refused to believe that it was anything but pure happiness for your plan going as well as it had. 

“What’s a pretty Lady like you doing here on her own?” He asked smoothly, eyes not falling away from the gaze they held over the bustling crowd. As you looked over the balcony you could see that the room was packed, spotting the way the men flirted with any and every woman they could lay their eyes on, couples falling to the edges of the room in passionate lip locks, uncaring for the vast group of people around them. 

“What makes you think I’m alone?” You quipped back, watching as a smile fell over his lips, finally pulling his eyes away from the crowd to face you. The moment your eyes locked again, this time inches away from him you felt that same bubbling feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“No respectable partner would let their Lady come to a party with her breasts heaving like that, well… not unless the Lady wants to be seen.” His eyes scanned over your upper body before meeting your eyes once again. You weren’t sure why you were holding your breath but the second his knuckle was grazing over your exposed collarbone, brushing your hair over your shoulder, you finally let out a slow, shaky breath. 

“And to think I was just wearing a nice dress.” You sighed comically, turning back to lean your hands against the railing, taking a moment to compose yourself without having to stare into his eyes. Never in George’s life had a woman thought of talking back to him, so having you quip back at him with a tongue as sharp as his own, practically running circles around him in conversation made him even more determined to have you. 

“You’re a quick one, smart I assume, probably raised by men, or at the very least a strong minded woman. A fighter too, you have the shoulders for it, money doesn’t matter to you much from your lack of jewellery- Stop me If I’m wrong.” With every assumption that spilled from his lips, you realised that you had blown your cover, fear immediately building in the pit of your stomach until it reached your eyes. “So what brings you here, If not for a man, what for?”

“Who said I didn’t want a man?” You finally looked back at him, a teasing smile on your lips. You watched his face ease, taking a brave step closer to him as you realised that he truly didn’t have a clue.  You were brave for doing this, letting him see a vulnerable side to you, one that could leave you easily exposed. 

“I’m sure you know who I am, don’t you sweetheart? Yet I haven’t a clue who you are.” He was smooth, able to pull your name from your lips without even a second thought. Perhaps it was a bad idea to lead this way, fearing that a part of you would grow attached to his smile or addicted to his perfect laugh.

“Well, count yourself lucky that you’re up here then, all you’ll find is boys down there.” You weren’t surprised that George was the cocky sort of man, part of you found it endearing that he obviously had some sort of saviour complex about him, figuring that he would selfishly have you to himself and ‘save’ you from being surrounded by the inferior. 

“I’d be luckier alone with you.” You leaned in, whispering just low enough for him to hear. You were feeling brave enough to get suggestive with him, hoping that he would catch your tone and give you some time alone. You felt his hand pressing against the small of your back as he pulled you in closer, your mind wondering as soon as you could breathe in his scent, a part of you forgot why you were truly here as it became drunker off of the male attention. 

All it took was one look from him to his aide and you were being led by him, past his friends and family up another set of stairs. You heard the sounds of chatter, laughter and clinking glasses fade away as you were ushered into a private room, the doors swinging shut behind the two of you, finally realising that you were alone with him. 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re really here?” He sighed, pulling at your wrist to tug you into his chest, his hot breath fanning in your neck as you stood pressed against each other, uncaring for the huge amounts of space that the room had to offer. Being so close him made you lose all of your inhibitions and suddenly the contract no longer mattered to you, the one thing that did however, was bedding the man who had you in a trance. In all your years of working contracts, nobody came above the job but now as your lips were inches away from his, George Weasley was more important. 

"I'm here for you." You muttered, hand snaking up to tangle in his long, messy hair, giving the locks a gentle tug that made his eyes darken. Feeling him guide you backwards, taking small steps with him until your back hit a wall. His strong hand travelled its way up your leg, hoping to hitch it up to hook around his hip as he pushed every layer of fabric up so he could get a good look at the gorgeous thighs he wanted wrapped around his head. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his fingers stop over your dagger, pulling it free from where it was held. 

As his eyes surveyed over the intricate detailing of the handle, you couldn't help but avoid his gaze, startled only by the chuckle that fell from his lips. "A mark of the brotherhood… They send you to bed me and leave me vulnerable?" 

You shook your head, watching as he pressed the dull side of the blade against your throat, his commanding eyes forcing you to look at him as he pressed himself closer to you. "They sent you to kill me?" 

He pulled the dagger from your throat, shoving it into your hand as he laughed, pulling away from you, letting the skirt fall back in its place as he turned around to walk away from you and deeper into the room. It was obvious that he wasn't afraid by you, certainly less the prospect of you being able to kill him. You didn't like being underestimated, much less by someone who would be easy for you to kill. You pushed yourself away from the wall coming up behind the man and tackling him to the floor, hips straddled directly over his as you pressed the knife against his throat, watching the way his eyes lit up with surprise, his hands finding your hips to grip onto tightly. 

"I like you, you've got a lot of nerve, probably one of the most gorgeous women I've ever laid my eyes on so tell me what's the contact worth?" He chuckled, hands tugging to grind your hips against his tentatively, watching as you fumbled to keep your thoughts straight. Composing yourself as you ignored the pleasurable feeling of your hips rocking against his, instead pressing the dagger closer to his throat. You were about to respond to his question when he cut you off quickly. 

"Whatever it is I'll double it, hell I'd even triple it under two conditions." He spluttered quickly, hands stilling as he realised that you weren't to be messed with. You cocked your head to the side, pulling the blade from his throat as you considered what he had to say, dragging the tip of your dagger gently over his jawline and down his chest with a sickly sweet smile, the alluring confusion evident in your tone of voice "Conditions?" 

"Condition one, Work for me and I'll pay better than any contract ever could and two, you're mine to have." He suggested, his tone coming across as commanding making it seem like you truly had no choice in the matter but you knew better. 

"I don't belong to anyone, Weasley, especially not someone I work for." You bit back, watching as he laughed softly, hand gripping at your waist as he flipped you over, the dagger clattering against the floor as he pinned your hands down, back pressed firmly against the cold surface, feeling him press his lips to your exposed neck. "You belong to me now, seems a waste of such perfect breasts for you not to be."

"Were you going to whore yourself out for me? That's precious." His lips travelled down, peppering wet kisses along your collarbone as his hands still gripped onto your waist. Any semblance of fight in you disappeared the minute his lips were on your skin, a sick part of you adored how he wanted you but an even sicker part wanted him to take you. 

"Where's the confidence, darling? Not ready to submit to me already, are you?" His voice was thick with arousal, hands finding their way to your hips again as he slowly ground his hips into yours, teasing you ever so slightly as he pushed himself closer to you. Somehow George had managed to shock you into silence, your head filled with nothing but the the image of him fucking you into the morning, not even room to think of a quick remark or retorting comment to quip back at him.

“You’re insufferable.” You breathed out, letting his strong arms pull you off of the floor, hoisting you up on his hips to trap you between the wall and his chest once again, his hand this time was quickly up your skirt once again, feeling the wetness that pooled between your legs that confirmed you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “And yet you spread your legs for me with ease.”

He didn’t dare tease you any longer, pulling himself free and sinking into you like there was no time to lose. Just when you thought you were full, he had more to give and you were feeling stretched out beyond belief. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pulled loud moans from you with every deep and slow thrust, the pleasure coursing through you had you rolling your head back which he only took as an invitation for him to wrap his hand around your throat, groaning lowly as his eyes flicked over the way your face contorted with overwhelming pleasure,  “You’re so fucking tight.” 

“George, please.” He hummed at the way your voice came out with the strained begging, feeling pleasure build in the pit of your stomach as you realised the churning movement you had been feeling throughout the evening had been butterflies, the building want and desire for the man who was now fucking you loudly into the wall. 

“I like hearing you beg, what do you need, sweetheart?” He hummed, pressing his lips to your exposed neck, right over where your vocal chords were, feeling the vibrations of your moans flow through his lips, pushing him over the edge to pick up his pace, focused intently on making you cum as he found himself growing addicted to the way you squeezed around him.

“I need to- George, It feels so good.” He shook his head, pulling completely from you, letting your feet drop to the floor as he spun you around so that your chest was pressed to the wall, whines still falling from your lips as his hands were back up your skirt, pulling your hips into the right position to push himself inside you again, this time his hands pulled at the strings of your corset, tightening it to a point where it only added to the pleasure he was making you feel.

“You only get to cum when you ask for it.” With every thrust, it felt as if he was tugging your corset that little bit tighter. Pushing you closer and closer to the release you craved, so desperate for it that the only word that fell from your lips was ‘please’. Not what he wanted to hear. One of his strong hands pulled your hair into his fist, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder, a smirk evident on his lips through the tone he used, “Please, what?”

“Please, I need to cum, George” You whined, hand coming up to wrap around his forearm, nails digging into his skin as his pace picked up finally, the hand still attached to the strings of your corset giving a final tug as you released around him, becoming a mess of spluttering moans for him as he pulled out of you, spinning you around once again to thread his fingers into your hair and pull you into a passionate kiss. 

Something about the way his lips tasted made you never want to pull away, finding yourself chasing his lips as he pulled away to gaze over your features, a smile on his lips as he took in just how beautiful you were, feeling like for a moment he may have truly met his match, watching as your chest heaved while you slowly drank in the high he had given you. “Next time I hope to see these beautiful breasts in all their glory,” 

“Next time? Thought you knew I have to kill you now.” You laughed as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ear, an action that sent a shiver down your spine. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, head shaking slightly to sway the hair out of his eyes, an action that made you melt at the knees.

“Very funny, now about your first contract.” He spoke quickly, tucking himself away and making himself presentable before pulling you deeper inside of the room, standing you by a large painting, tilting your chin up to avert your gaze to a particular individual, “Know who that man is, angel?” 

You swallowed thickly, eyes gazing over the large, pristine painting, well aware of who he was. The man that had set the contract over George’s head. You nodded at his question, his arm slinking around your waist as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your ear. “Good, I want information; You tell him I’m dead and find out what his next move is, if you get me that, I’ll know you’re loyal, just for that I’ll pay you more than you’ve ever seen.” 

“George, he’s the one that requested this cont-” You spoke quietly, his hand tugging you closer to his body, a deep sigh falling past his lips, leaving you in silence for a few moments until his warm toned voice spoke up once again.

“I know, and you’re going to find out why, understand?” He sounded genuinely upset, the man who had ordered the hit on him was a close family friend, but yet someone who craved the power that George had. Part of you knew that it wasn’t just Cedric Diggory that wanted him dead but he was the only one with enough money to make the bounty worth it, and yet you had found yourself wound up on his side. “Good girl.” 

Your chest was still heaving as you stepped through the opening double doors, this time hand in hand with the man who you had come here to kill, something had changed in your time alone and you knew that you would be the last person to hurt him. You were running off the high of belonging to someone, a new contract and the willingness to submit. You were George’s new personal weapon, a force that even he didn’t know the true extent of. Better to have you on his side than against him, as good as you felt against him after all. 

taglist //  @starlightweasley​​ @slytherinsunrise​​  @gcdric​​​ @theweasleysredhair​​​ @whiz-bangs78​​​ @pansydaisy​​ @vogueweasley​​​ @vivianweasley​​​​ @feetoffthetablee​​ @thisismynerdyself​​​ @witch-and-a-half​​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​​ @rip-us​​ @hopemalfoyweasley​​ @pigwidgexn​​

[poisonousquinzel]

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point. 

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through. 

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too. 

X

X

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other. 

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive. 

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her. 

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her. 

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures. 

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

-

this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham. 

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons. 

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.” 

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.  

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door - 

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.” 

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.” 

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories. 

Memories.

Memory. 

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.” 

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can. 

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.” 

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are. 

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues. 

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not. 

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again. 

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath. 

Without me, she could never grow. 

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.” 

“Will she ever stand by herself? 

Will she ever be ready? 

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more. 

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love. 

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.” 

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work. 

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.” 

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket. 

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships. 

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated. 

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while. 

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them. 

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this. 

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level. 

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy. 

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him. 

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly. 

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything. 

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy. 

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that. 

-

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity. 

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker. 

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend. 

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her. 

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that. 

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

-

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC. 

[themandhoelorian]

Dincember - December 4: Hot Chocolate

summary: Mando has unique ways of showing his affection for his son, like getting him hyper on too many cups of hot chocolate, but it’s only after a long day of bringing the kid down from his sugar high that you realize Mando has similar ways of showing how much he cares for you.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: a caffeine addiction, sleep deprivation, the smallest sexual innuendo, Din being sweeter than hot chocolate, not super well edited ahaha

word count: 3.2k 

a/n: asdfghkldf this is so so late but this week has been long and exhausting (no this fic was definitely NOT me projecting), and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to write :/. I’m not even really sure this makes sense, but that’s kind of how my brain works when it’s exhausted, so hopefully on some level that’s accurate ahaha 

***

You never understood the appeal of caf until you joined Mando’s crew. 

The first time someone offered you a cup, that one day you showed up to the tiny mechanic shop of your first job with bags under your eyes, complaining about how little sleep you’d gotten the night before, you thought you’d been handed a steaming cup of motor oil by accident instead. 

The dark liquid felt like lava on the roof of your mouth, leaving the taste of bitter ash on your tongue as you willed sip after sip down your throat. It did pull you out of the sleep-deprived fog, but it was more of a jolt in the opposite direction than a gentle tug, your body shooting into overdrive and hands shaking so intensely you burned your fingers on your soldering iron more times than you could count that day. 

After that, you tried to stay away from caf as much as possible. No matter how little you’d slept the night before, how often you were caught staring blankly at the wall instead of untangling a mess of wires, you always refused when you saw a mug of hellfire coming your way. The acrid taste, the jitters, none of it was worth enduring when you just had to make it to closing before you could go home and sleep away the fatigue. 

But now, your full time job is taking care of a child, and every night is a night with too little sleep. You spend your days trying to wrangle a warm, mischievous demon into compliance instead of just manipulating cold scraps of metal, and the kid doesn’t have “closing hours”- not with how violently he reacts to the notion of bedtime- so there’s never a sweet finish line to look forward to at the end of the day. 

You thought you’d known exhaustion before, felt it heavy on your shoulders those months you worked overtime to make ends meet, but that was light years away from what you feel now. The black hole of sleep consumes you as soon as you get the chance to lie down, and when you inevitably wake to the sound of cries a few hours later, it feels like the weight of the galaxy is crushing your lungs, making it nearly impossible to crawl back out of bed.

So after just a few weeks on the Crest, after that one day when you accidentally dozed off watching the kid play and woke to find him sticking a finger into the barrel of a blaster (thankfully Mando had the sense not to keep his weapons loaded on the ship or Maker, that could’ve ended badly), you bought a caf maker on the next planet and forced yourself to chug a cup every morning since.

The taste still sucks, no matter how much cream you’ve tried mixing in, but it doesn’t make you jittery like it used to, the caffeine just enough to keep you awake, and now you don’t know how you ever took care of the little womp rat without it, especially on the days when Mando returns from his hunts and the child bursts with energy to welcome his father home.

Even if it’s only been a couple days since Mando left, you’d think he’d been gone for months with the way they act at seeing each other again. The kid’s just downright ecstatic, dropping whatever part he’s playing with as soon as he hears the hiss of the hull opening and babbling excitedly as he runs into his father’s arms. He’ll follow Mando’s every move for at least an hour after he’s returned, and sometimes, you have to literally pry him from the beskar so Mando can retreat to the cockpit and set the course to the next planet.

And then there’s Mando. He’ll look stoic as ever as he takes the child into his arms, but you can feel how eager he is to reunite with his son, his affection all but spilling out the sides of his armored chest. He’ll never admit it, of course, you’re not sure he’d even be able to find the words to say it if he wanted to, but he finds other ways to show the kid how much he missed him, how deeply he cares about his little foundling.

More often than not, those methods include spoiling the child to no end, giving into the kid’s every desire and providing him with a few moments of pure, unrestrained joy. And more often than not, you’re left with the not-so-simple task of dealing with the consequences of giving the child his every wish, easing him down from the euphoric high and re-establishing that he absolutely cannot expect that kind of indulgence with anyone but his father.

Like one time, Mando stayed awake with him all night long, conceding five more minutes every time the kid whined when he was told it was time for bed. Five minutes quickly turned into hours as they watched the bright mosaic of hyperspace go by, the kid so happy to just sit in Mando’s lap while he spoke in the soothing tones of his people’s tongue. You were only able to pull the child from his father’s arms in the early hours of the morning, all three of you only half conscious at that point, and you spent several cycles trying to get the kid (and yourself) back on a normal sleep schedule.

Or like today, when Mando returned this morning while it was still dark outside, and you woke to the smell of cocoa and peppermint what felt like mere minutes after you’d fallen asleep. When you finally pulled yourself from the bunk, you found Mando sitting next to the child as they sipped on steaming liquid, his helmet tilted back just enough for him to bring the mug to his lips. 

He made the kid hot chocolate, you realized from the way the child threw back his bowl so quickly he left milky brown splotches on his face. Of course. Mando had made a habit of bringing sweets back for his son after he’d once gotten his hands on a chocolate bar you’d splurged on in the market, nearly bouncing off the walls with glee as he devoured the entire thing in seconds. That was a memorable day for all of you: the kid found his new favorite snack, Mando found another way to indulge the child, and you found out that when the kid has sugar in his system, you need caf more than water to survive the day.

So it’s no surprise that several hours and a couple more servings of hot chocolate later, long after Mando’s gone to the cockpit to fly to the next planet, you’re chasing the tiny ball of energy around the hull, running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caf mixed with a little bit of spite, worried you might collapse before the sugar-fueled monster falls asleep.

You have half a mind to be mad at Mando for getting the kid so hyped up on the decadent drink and inevitably making your job that much harder, but you can’t get the image of them together this morning out of your head, Mando dabbing the mess from the child’s face as giggles bubbled from his tiny mouth. The memory’s shaded with the golden haze of dawn, like those dreams that feel warm and familiar, and you can feel your heart swell re-imagining that moment of perfect bliss, father and son so content just to be with each other and the sweetness in their cups.

And oh, you know you could never be upset at Mando for indulging the kid, creating those little pockets of warmth in a life filled mostly by cold, dead space, no matter how much more work it makes for you. Not when you know that he savors those moments as much as the child, that the days he’s back with his son are the only times he doesn’t have to be tough and menacing and deadly, the Crest the only place he doesn’t have to armor up his feelings just as much as his body.

You’re willing to reign in the kid, be the tough one on the ship, if it means Mando can show his son the softness that lies beneath the beskar, tuck away the sharp edges when he holds the little green menace in his lap. You’re willing to lose weeks of sleep course-correcting after each indulgence if it means he can let the honey of his love ooze thick and messy before he’s off to the next quarry and has to lock his affection behind iron walls again. You’re even willing to drink all the caf in the galaxy, let cup after cup burn bitter down your throat, if it means he can have a moment of peace sipping hot chocolate with his son at the break of dawn. 

You’re more than willing, happy even, to do all that and more for him, especially if it means you can catch glimpses of the man behind the guise of “Mando” in the process, a man whose heart you’ve found yourself wondering more and more about lately, wondering if it might one day beat strong and steady for you the same way it does for the kid.

So no, you’re not mad at Mando, not in the slightest. It’s more that right now you’re worried you might not be physically able to do those things for him, the shorter than usual night of sleep catching up with you faster than you can fight it off with caf. You’re pretty sure it stopped working after your third cup anyway, the additional caffeine just making you dizzy and no more energized, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the child’s pace. You’ve played peekaboo and thrown around his favorite silver ball and even tried to show him how to rewire an old generator (not that you had any luck with that), and he still hasn’t crashed from his sugar high. 

You have no idea what else to do to keep the child busy, and Maker, you’re just so kriffing tired right now, so you’ve resorted to leaning against the door of the weapons closet, floating in that hazy space on the brink of consciousness, using what little of your energy remains to make sure he at least won’t get his hands on a blaster again. 

You’re not even completely sure what the kid’s doing right now, just know he’s somewhere on the other side of the hull, and you can only hope that Mando doesn’t come down here and find you and the kid like this. The last thing you want to do is make him worry, doubt how much you care about his son’s well being, but it’s like he can feel your exhaustion radiating through the ship because the next thing you know, the heavy echoes of his boots fill the hull as he descends the ladder from the cockpit. 

You will yourself to sit up straighter as you hear his footsteps getting louder, locate the child before Mando can, but your body is working on a little bit of a lag, and by the time you actually open your eyes, Mando’s walking past you, the child snoring softly in his arms.

Of course he fell asleep as soon as you took eyes off of him, the little monster.

Mando doesn’t say anything as he tucks the child into his makeshift bed before striding back to the other side of the hull, and some faraway part of your brain tells you to explain yourself or apologize or say kriffing anything at this point, but the inky gravity of sleep is pulling you in deeper with each passing moment, and you can’t be bothered to speak when your eyes are threatening to droop shut again. 

They must have at some point because you don’t remember seeing Mando approach you, but somehow he’s in front of you now, holding a mug out in front of your face. Maker, you must’ve drifted off, long enough for him to decide you needed some help staying awake and make you a cup of caf, and as you reach for it instinctively, bringing the cup to your lips in the trained motion, you can’t decide if it’s just as a thoughtful gesture or a thinly veiled warning for you to actually do your job.

You hum as the warm liquid coats your tongue, deliciously silky and slightly sweet, and it’s only when you swallow, the milky substance gliding down your throat, that you realize-

“This isn’t caf,” you mumble, looking up from the mug to meet Mando’s gaze.

“I never said it was.”

You just stare at him wordlessly, trying to figure out why he made you hot chocolate when it’s not going to make you any more functional. You have no idea how long you sit there thinking, too far gone to even understand the concept of time right now, but it must be a while because he breaks the silence first with a sigh.

“Cyar’ika, you have to stop drinking that crap. It’s not good for you.”

“Need it,” you respond, almost too quickly considering how long it took you to answer him before. Apparently the only thing you can understand in this groggy fog is your caf addiction. “Gonna fall asleep if not.”

“You’re about to anyway. Come on, you need to sleep.”

For some reason you giggle at that, unable to stop the laughter rising through your chest. He’s right, of course, but it just seems so damn funny right now that Mando, who has told you he rarely sleeps when he’s away, who you’ve never seen rest for more than an hour at a time, is telling you that you’re the one that needs sleep.

“You sleep even less than me, Mando. You can’t talk,” you accuse.

He jerks his helmet back in something like disbelief, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“Well I’m not the one falling asleep on the floor right now,” he counters.

“That’s fair,” you admit. You take a few more sips of the hot chocolate, closing your eyes in pleasure as the warmth floods your veins. Maybe it’s just because you’re so used to the sharp bite of caf, but the sugary drink feels so good, like something comforting and familiar though you can’t quite place your finger on where you recognize it from. It’s almost like you’re wrapped up in the thickest blanket or, even better, by strong arms as you’re lulled to sleep, and you’re not sure that’s what you were thinking of, but you realize that’s exactly what you want right now. 

And then your stupid, half-conscious brain decides to ask for it in the worst way possible.

“How about this, I’ll sleep if you sleep with me.”

You only catch how kriffing suggestive it sounds as the words come tumbling out of your mouth, but then all at once, you’re utterly aware of how much you’ve been embarrassing yourself. First getting caught falling asleep on the job and then accidentally making a very blunt pass at your boss, and Maker, you’re just a whole ass mess today aren’t you? Suddenly you feel very awake, your eyes going wide as you stumble over your words trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.

“Oh stars, I didn’t mean sleep with me, that’s definitely not what I, well, not that I wouldn’t…no, I just- I do need sleep but so do you, even if you’re not actually falling asleep right now, so I was just gonna say that we should both-”

But then your rambling is cut off by a chuckle coming from the modulator, his voice light and playful in a way you’ve never heard before.

If you weren’t so kriffing worried about what he was thinking about you right now, you might’ve thought it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“I know what you meant, cyar’ika,” he says. 

Oh, thank Maker, you think, waves of something like relief washing warm over your body. You’re not quite sure how he can understand what it is you want when you can’t even articulate it yourself, but your brain is still too foggy to care, deciding it doesn’t really matter how he knows you so well, just that he does.

Mando eases the mug from your hands, the worn leather of his gloves brushing lightly over your knuckles. You whine in protest as he steals the liquid comfort from your fingers, but it’s quickly replaced by his hands wrapping around yours to help you off the ground.

“I’ll make you more tomorrow,” he assures you, his voice as velvety as the drink he just took from your grasp. “But now, we need to sleep.”

We, not you. 

You barely catch the distinction as he leads you to the bunk while his thumb rubs soothing circles on your lower back, but it just leaves you even more confused in your sleepy daze. You didn’t think he was actually going to entertain your suggestion, even if he did take it in the more innocent way, and when you crawl into the bunk and he doesn’t follow, you think maybe you just misheard him.

But as you close your eyes, your exhaustion starting to pull you away from reality again, you hear the clang of metal on metal behind you, and a gentle tap on your calf halts your descent into the stillness of sleep as Mando climbs into the bunk next to you.

It’s only after he shuts the door, when your body is pressed to his so you both fit in the tiny space, that you realize he’s taken his armor off, the first time he’s ever done so in front of you. You can’t see him at all in the darkness of the bunk, you’re not sure you could even open your eyes again at this point anyway, but even in your delirium you can grasp the weight of how vulnerable he’s making himself right now, letting you run your fingers lazily across the tight muscles of his bicep and rest your head against his broad chest.

And once again, you’re overcome by the feeling of something pleasant and vaguely familiar, your heart swelling the same way it did when you first saw Mando and the child this morning, the same warmth in your veins as the first sip of hot chocolate. You couldn’t quite place it before, but for some reason, as you listen to the way his heart beats strong and steady against you, you think you finally recognize it, the way Mando’s been making you feel all day, the reason he knew exactly what you needed before you could even realize it yourself.

It’s just a hazy flash in the moment before the black hole of sleep finally consumes you, an inkling of a breakthrough you may or not remember tomorrow, but you think this feeling, the acrid taste of caf replaced by smooth chocolate on your tongue, a strong body turned soft as it’s molded to yours, has a four letter name you thought you and Mando only saved for the child.

Maybe that’s why you’re learning to use it for each other too.

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

Blue to Purple

Trigger Warning: Talk of suicide and depression.

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Characters: Sebastian/Jesse (Oc)

A/N: I’ve fallen into this game so hard. Before work, after work, all day on days off. This is a very addicting game.

Description: During another depression spell, Jesse confides his recent causes of stress in his husband who assures him everything is fine.

__

Sebastian looked over from the kitchen sink as he heard the door of the house open and close. He was a bit confused to see his husband home so early. Jesse generally would search for him to give him a kiss or hug, if not just a wave whenever he reentered the cottage; but something seemed off.

Behind the gothic farmer, a curious German Shepherd followed slowly before jumping on the bed after staring at it a moment. Putting the soapy sponge down, Sebastian washed his hands before looking to investigate what was happening. He made his way across the living room into the shared bedroom to see Yoshi laying on his side of the bed, being eaten slightly by a blanket monster.

The dog glanced at his new daddy before pressing his snoot back into his first daddy. "No, you stay," Jesse's voice groaned. Sebastian chuckled before walking around to his husband's side of the bed. "Alright, what's going on?" The emo gently rubbed the blanket covered back as he sipped his morning coffee. There was silence before a thumbs up snaked out from under the covers. This, in turn, freed their first son of the farm, as Yoshi ran across Jesse to greet Sebastian happily.

The smaller giggled before gently petting the dog and kissing his head. "Yosh, can you get down?" The dog cocked it's head. This was his bed. Why was he being asked to get down? Sebastian was a bit scared of the dog but respected Jesse's rules about the fur baby. What was Jess' was Yoshi's.

Sebastian sighed before patting his leg. "Come on." Jesse groaned as Yoshi jumped off of him and earned some praising pats. With the dog down, Sebastian moved to lay on top of the lump of seemingly depression. "One of those days," Sebastian asked softly as he gently rubbed the head part of the lump. Jesse shrugged before peeking out carefully as to not make him fall.

Jesse shrugged before moving a hand out to gently rub the face of his lover. They mad eyes contact. Sebastian's purple eyes widened a bit before falling slightly he noticed how bagged, blood shot, and puffy his husband's turquoise one's were. "Were you.... crying?" Jesse paused a moment before turning his head with a small frown. "I'm fine Sebby. Do what you gotta do today, okay? I just want to rest for a few hours."

Sebastian frowned before moving the hand off his cheek. He moved off the lump before setting the coffee on the night stand. "Keeping secrets," Sebastian asked with slight disappointment in his tone. "I'm just tired Seb. Night," Jesse sighed as he curled up in the messy blankets. The emo crossed his arms and nudged the lump of sadness. "You were crying," he accused. "Your eyes always get lighter and brighter when you cry. It's not just tired. What's wrong?"

Specific observation. Jesse shook his head. Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Jesse come on. I can't help if you can't tell me," he reasoned softly. "Hun, I'm aright," Jesse assured sweetly. He looked so tired. Had he been over working himself? Sebastian frowned. "Is there anything I can do while you rest," he asked. "Unless you know how to work the mayonnaise machines," Jesse sighed.

Sebastian frowned. He didn't. "The crops were harvested and watered via sprinklers. Animals petted and fed. Eggs collected and put in the mayonnaise machines, milk gathered and wool gathered. Yoshi's water bowl is filled and that's basically it." Sebastian frowned even more.

"Do you need help around the farm? I could take on some chores. " Jesse shook his head. "No, you work on your coding. I got it baby, promise." Sebastian wasn't convinced. "Are you stressed?" Jesse sighed. "Seb, please let me sleep." Sebastian felt a bit hurt by that and moved to walk around d to his side of the bed. He noticed a bare foot poking out of the blankets and swiped at it on his way over.

Jesse jerked his foot away with a squeak before peeking out from the covers as Sebastian giggled and finished coming around. That was a sign to put his foot back. "Don't, " Jesse pouted. Sebastian frowned again before sighing. Still in his pajamas, he crawled back into bed and scooted so his butt was against the other.

He wanted to be spooned.

Jesse sighed, guilt hitting him for his rather unnecessarily mean behavior. "Sorry," the farmer muttered as he moved up to do his duty. Sebastian shook his head as he took Jesse's arm and held it lovingly around him. "Nothing to apologize for." Jesse grunted in response as he moved to bury his face in the other's hair.

Sebastian made a bit of a face. "Jesse, please," Sebastian pushed. "I heard you muttering last night. What's going on?" The goth nuzzle closer before saying something into the dark locks. "Honey," he sighed, "you need to move out of my hair." "Just a nightmare. Don't worry about it." Sebastian gently kicked at his leg.

"Jesse," Sebastian huffed. The farmer was quiet a moment before sighing. "I keep having bad dreams. The mumbling in my sleep you've been commenting on is a result of stress dreaming." Sebastian huffed. "I knew it. Why don't you give me some chores around the farm? That would be less stressful, right?"

Jesse gently kissed the back of his husband's neck. "Your sweet. But that's not the source. Coming here from the city, from a stable 9 to 5 was a huge toll that I didn't realize until I got off the bus my first day. I left behind help, I left behind stability, and I was left to a sinking ship." Sebastian blinked. He had never heard this before. He heard about the financial struggles during the first two seasons of Jesse's first year in Pelican Town but nothing more in regards to his move.

Jesse started to play with the fingers that held his hand on the other's torso. "Sinking ship?" Jesse hummed in conformation. "Your mom never mentioned it to you? The cottage was old and quite.... well.... wasn't very well taken care of. The farm was over run by rocks, trees, and weeds galore. I was give some old tools and left with 500 gold to my name to make something of the place or risk poverty."

Sebastian was quiet. He didn't know about these things. They talked on a daily, even before dating and marriage. How hadn't he heard this before? "So I've been stressed about money. I have plans but then the resources don't play out and nature isn't always in my favor and things fall apart. But that's the farm g life. You take risks and gamble your income in hopes of a better income." Sebastian was quiet. He gently rolled over and snuggle into the other's chest.

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?" Jesse kissed his head lovingly. "I don't know, honestly. Guess me joking about how broke I was and just wallowing in my now worsened depression with you got me by it. Not like I can really get my meds up here." Sebastian pushed him a bit. "Harvey," he started, but was cut off. "He's very expensive. No, I will be fine."

The smaller pouted before sighing. He reached up to feel the long, black locks of hair. Jesse merely pouted before his eyes watered again. "I'm just scared to loose it all. After all, I bonded with each of those animals. They're like my kids. I couldn't think of having to sell them.

"Yoshi was a stray whodunit found lingering by my farm. I don't know if I could get him off the farm if I were to fail. If I had to move back with my mom, he'd be miserable. Cramped in a small apartment? Yeah right." He paused as he notice Sebastian look a bit confused. "I don't think I could force you into such instability like that Sebastian. I know you didn't feel you know.... at your parents but it would be better than being stuck with Yoshi and I as we fall back at my mom's place."

"No. I wouldn't be leaving you! What the hell Jesse?" He gently slapped at his boyfriend's arm. "What you come up here, then plan to ditch me if you can't stay?" Jesse frowned, he hadn't thought of it that way. "I'd find a job and help us back on our feet. Regardless of how cramped it is and full of people, as long as I'm with you I can handle the city. I can handle wherever we end up." He pressed his face in the built chest as he finished, hugging the other slightly.

Jesse felt tears well in his eyes. "Guess that brings us to issue three then. Finances, farm fears," he sighed. "I.... I feel like I ripped you away from your family." Sebastian froze. "Come again?" He didn't want to look up. "We new each other two seasons before I asked you out. Then we dated for like half of that fall, all of winter, and most of the following year's spring. Then I asked you to marry me.

"Just.... I was so in love with you. I could relate so much to you. Your just so sweet, dorky, nerdy, considerate, just.... your amazing and.... I feel like I rushed it with you. We've only known each other for a year and two season yet.... here we are. I just... I don't know. Between you, our farm, I just feel like I've.... just rushed everything for progress.

"I don't think I've done anything right." Sebastian felt his eyes water before he glanced up. "Are you.... questioning our marriage?" Years of just wallowing in self pity, depression, suicidal thoughts, never fitting in, never feeling like family to his family. This was really hitting hard. "Ah, no, no, no! Sebby no, I'm not.” Jesse panicked as he moved to wipe the tears away and gently kissed each, delicate eye lid. Sebastian blush a bit before being pulled into a tight, loving hug.

"You seem so happy now and I know you love it here. I'm just.... I feel I've messed up as a person is all. I'm so happy with this marriage and I know your in better health now. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worded it like that. Same with excluding you from moving worst case scenario. Just.... city and three room apartments with two tiny bathrooms.

"I just didn't want you to feel caged in." Sebastian frowned before nuzzling into the other. "I like to feel small. A cage is something that can be used to contain something, but also protects it from the outside world. It's a misrepresented safety." There was a moment of silence before Jesse kissed the purple hair sprouting off his chest.

"I love you. I'm sorry." Sebastian shook his head. "Your an idiot," he sighed before leaning up to steal a true kiss from the other's lips. Jesse kissed back softly before they separated with small smiles. "Are... you good? I mean I said a lot and," Sebastian cut him off. He poked his forehead. "Is the farm failing?" Jesse shook his head. "Are we financially burdened?" Another shake. "Do you love me?" A nod. "You understand we're together through thick and thin?" Jesse paused before nodding.

"I accepted your proposal. I accepted your initial confession of love. I reciprocated it. I was so excited when you proposed, to be with you on you, 'sinking ship’. I love you, don't just brush me off like that next time your thinking of future plans. It really hurts. But if there's anything you need help with, ask me. Even if it's going into town and applying for a job."

Jesse kissed his head again. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I didn't mean it like that. Your right." Sebastian sighed before nuzzling into the taller gently. "I love you, I really do." Sebastian sighed. "I know you do, your just dumb," he laughed as he hugged him tighter. He was trying to get the taller to drop the subject. Jesse soon found himself giggling as opposed to whimpering as a finger traced gently down his ribs.

"Shehebby," he squealed as he shifted slightly, still holding the other. "Yes," Sebastian asked as me moved his finger up and down the ribs, scratching now and then. Jesse squirmed, giggling all the while. "Oh gosh it tickles," he snorted out, wiggling his feet. "Ah, it tickle, it tickles!" He was curling and really starting to wiggle his feet as he giggled softly. His stomach filled with butterflies and his chest felt lighter. As he gained muscle, his body had become quite .ore sensitive. What would normally only slightly tickle was now really leaving lingering sensation down his side.

"I'm hardly doing anything," Sebastian teased as gently added another finger. Jesse squeaked, holding him closer as his legs failed about. "Nhahahao! Oh gosh! S-Sebby please! Hehehhe!" Sebastian felt his own face heat up from the reaction. He stopped momentarily to sit on the other's waist; this would then warn a large blush followed by a shy look. "What are you doing," Jesse asked softly as he wiggled his feet a bit in preparation.

Both knew if he really wanted to. He could over power the smaller; but both knee, he would never do that. "I think you need to relax huh? Too mush stress isn't good for you." He was smiling gently, eyes looking over the taller fondly. Jesse felt his heart explode with butterflies from the delicate gaze. "Maybe some.... physical therapy will help?" Sebastian paused before cringing with a snort. "Sorry, I'm not very good at these.... things. Just... too dumb and sappy. Just, I'm going to tickle you." Jesse squealed just from the word. "No, Sebby," he whined before really giggling as fingers gently traced his forming pecs.

"Yes, Sebby. You need to smile more~." Jesse giggled, gently holding the other's arms as a brace. "Oh man, that's really sensitive! Mmmm!" Black hair was strewn about the pillow case as Jesse pressed hard into it. Sebastian giggled, giggled. "I would hope," he replied happily before moving to scratch around the soft forming bumps. "Eek! Hahahahha! Mmmm! Pfff! hehehe!" Jesse was such a gentle giant with him. It made Sebastian's heart swirl as he watched this man who could easily apprehend him just take the gentle, playful torment.

He never used his strength to his advantage or slight height difference. He was always so caring and sweet to Sebastian. Maybe a bit secretive and forceful now and then but never anything bad. When Sebastian was depressed, Jesse would just reply "same" before inviting himself to join the other in bed and cuddle him with a "but your not dying today." He would randomly bring him Jesse and his favorite foods, he was just.... an overall sweet guy.

He was covered in tattoos Sebastian loved to trace and rehear the stories behind, piercings that he'd have to free Jesse from when they'd get stuck in something, and had many scars; each with their own story too. They were similar yet different. But Sebastian was in love.

"Ah! Not the armpit! Eek! Nahaho please!" Jesse started snorting and gasping as he laughed hysterically and rolled around. His husband merely rode the bucking bronco with a smile as he tried to get through clamped arms to the gold spot. "No? Not going to let me in? That's alright, your thighs seem more appealing." Jesse froze as he felt the hands leave him. No. Not the thighs!

He gently took Sebastian's hand and smiled with residual giggles slipping out. He looked so tired yet so happy. "Oh no you don't." He gently moved Sebastian down, now hovering over him. "I made you nearly cry today. What kind of a husband would I be if I didn't cheer you up?" Sebastian blushed before feeling his stomach now flip with butterflies. "No, that's alright," Sebastian giggled out. God the anticipation could be the worst part.

"No, no it isn't. I love you and I need to make this right. I see you smile everyday now, laugh at our animals antics. But the laughter is never long lived. Don't tell me our home is starting to bore you." Sebastian shook his head vigorously.

"Oh no, Jesse please!" Jesse merely snorted before kissing each eye lid softly. "And where was my mercy?" Sebastian squeaked, squirming around slightly now. Jesse knew all of his weak spots having tickled him many times before, this was going to be hell!

"Coochie, coochie, coo," Jesse whispered into Sebastian's ear as fingers started to move gently under the cloth covering his love's torso. Sebastian immediately burst into a giggling fit, unable to suppress his laughter when disgustingly cringe worthy things are whispered into his ear. "H-Hey! Ahahaha! I wen-honey! Hehe he! Too much!" Jesse giggled as he let up, switched to just tracing with a single finger.

Sebastian calmed down significantly, covering his face as a wide smile was forced upon his lips. His feet wiggled as his hips turned from side to side. "Aw, is my darling husband too sensitive for even one, little finger? Is he? Man you are adorable," Jesse squealed out the last part. Sebastian's face was bright red from the teasing, his body going into affection and attention overload.

"Coochie, coochie, coo~! Ah, tickle, tickle, tickle my adorable Sebby~!" Sebastian shrieked from the teasing as he treated from freedom. Jesse paused to lift the pajama shirt up more to repeat the pale torso in all it's glory. Sebastian peeked out through his fingers, eyes watering and face radiating heat from his blush. He merely whimpered from the new child before giggling softly as fingers moved up towards his underarms, before moving back down again.

"Honey," he squealed as he gently tried to catch the intruding hands. Jesse merely giggled before lifting and arm overhead, causing Sebastian to panic. "Wa- wait! No pinning! Honey please, not there!" Sebastian was shyly trying to hide himself away as his husband slowly released his grip. "Really? Because last I knew, you pinned me by sitting on me, and didn't complain when I did the same," Jesse teased as he gently traced the underarm.

Sebastian shrieked before kicking his legs and shaking his head while covering his mouth. "T-This is unfair," he snorted out. "Oh? But I let go of your arm, pumpkin. There shouldn't be any issues now." Pumpkin? Rare as it was it made Sebastian melt. "Your killing me," he whined between giggles in response. "With love," Jesse reminded before slowly taking his arm back and re lowering the arm that was gripping the head boards to keep from closing. After a few moments of recovering, Sebastian noticed the lack of after care..... which meant.... oh no.

He dared to peek up, blushing more as he saw the other looking at him with such loving eyes. God they were both so gross and sappy since marriage. "Honey, what are you doing," Sebastian giggle out nervously. Jesse said nothing, just moved down a bit to sit on Sebastian's thighs. Wait.... why would he- no!

"Ah darling no!" Sebastian shrieked as he launched up to stop the other. Not the knees, please, not the knees, he giggled as he held Jesse's hands. "I... I can't! It's too ticklish!" The taller blushed before giggling a bit. "All the more reason to just gently trace it," was Jesse's reply. "Or fetch that duck feather out of the sell bin and just gently flick it here and there under your sensitive knees. Just dusting, crease cutting, feathering~?" Sebastian was as red as a tomato as he resisted the urge to cover his face. Once he let go. He knew it was game over.

"Or maybe.... we could play that game again? I know how much to enjoy thus~. I could just gently strike at your soles and toes while we play DnD again? A stock punishment? The feather u got today would really have you giggling." Nope, he couldn't do this. "Don't talk about it like that," Sebastian whimpered.

"Why? I like it too. It's relaxing, it's fun, it feels nice." That was really the only bonding he had with his mom that he could remember though. Demetrius never really bothered with him aside from telling him what to do and he was jealous of Maru so that only left his mom. She would tickle him to tears as a boy and young teen.

"Yeah but, you make it sound perverted," Sebastian huffed. "Oh, my bad," Jesse replied as he gently slipped his hand away. "Huh? Wait no! Jesse," Sebastian argued before freezing as a small squeeze was delivered to the under side of his knee. Oh no.

He glanced nervously at the other who smiled lovingly and did it again. A squeak. Sebastian was holding himself now, shaking his head. "Truce," he asked shyly. Jesse paused before sighing and giving a nod. If the other really didn't want to be tickled to death. He wouldn't force him.... at the moment. He moved to hold the smaller who quickly leaned into him. The flustered man quickly gave into the hold and went back to hiding his face in his husband. "Your so mean," he sighed as he started to calm down.

"Rude! I am not," Jesse replied as he gently tickled Sebastian's back. The giggles started up again as Sebastian fell into the other's chest. "Jess, stop it," he squealed. Jesse did before giggling himself and gently kissing his lover's head. "You know what sounds really good?" Sebastian peeked up from his chest like a kitten. "Hm?" "A power nap." Sebastian smiled before nuzzling in close to be held closer. "I love you," he hummed. "I love you too, Sebby."

[selwynnnnnn]

my thoughts on gossip girl 2021 so far….

This show started off strong. It seemed to have to a very interest ensemble cast and teased interesting storylines that would have us waiting impatiently for each Thursday. But now I find myself dreading the next episode that will air—and hoping against hope that this messy ass show will clean itself up.

Zoya and Julien: I love them being siblings. Their scenes in which they’re supportive of each other and bonding is one of the best parts of this show. I also ship their dads and I think it would very interesting to see how this family dynamic would work out if the dad were to get together in that way.

Max Wolfe: THERAPY!!! I will pay for his therapy! Between orchestrating his parent’s divorce, sleeping with two of his best friends, having a deeply concerning pill addiction, and falling victim to the heinous student-teacher trope—I’m afraid there’s just a lot to unpack there. Don’t really ship him with anyone, but if I had to choose I think that right fit would be Aki.

Aki: My favorite of the bunch! He’s very sweet and just trying to figure this whole sexuality thing out, okay? Don’t you dare look at him in any type of way! Looking at you, Audrey.

Audrey: I cannot stand this bitch. I really don’t understand why people be so up her ass. Like she already annoyed me but I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Then her biphobia entered the chat and that was over. Audrey’s on my shit list! I don’t give a fuck that she and Aki made up. They need to break up tbh.

Obie: Can be like the Big Death on this show? I’d like to see him get hit by a bus or something. We can mourn for like a second—but not too long.

Luna and Monet: I love my girls! I do! But they need to be fleshed out soon or I fear they’ll remain one-dimensional evil minions. They as characters really deserve that. It’s also not groundbreaking to have a black girl and a trans girl be these mean bullies, as if white girls aren’t usually the culprits of these types of bullying.

Teachers: Want them to be caught and never allowed near children ever again.

[dramaticsnakes]

A drowsy morning

I wrote all of this today and I don’t know if it is any good but have some shameless moceit fluff with a hint of hurt/comfort anyway.

Ship: Moceit

Word count: 1918

TW: A bit of self-deprecation, but otherwise nothing I can think of. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: After a night of rushed and significant confessions, Patton wakes up in the morning with a certain fractionally fiendish fibber by his side.

Patton woke up groggily, feeling uncommonly safe. There was something warm and heavy around his waist, holding him close. His heart beat a little faster each passing moment, and his cheeks were so incredibly warm.

His heart skipped a beat, once he remembered exactly who it was, that was holding him close. When he remembered why. He inhaled and turned his head slightly. Janus was lying right next to Patton, his eyes closed and his breathing soothing. The scaled half of his face was pressed against the mattress, and his expression was so much calmer than anything Patton had ever seen. It was a mesmerizing and beautiful sight. He wore a soft yellow pyjama, that exposed some of the scales on his neck. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and his hair was uncharacteristically messy. He was still wearing his gloves, and Patton wondered if they were uncomfortable to wear when he was asleep.

Patton remembered the night before. It was a fuzzy mess of confessions, apologies and gentle touches. He remembered the soft touch of Janus’ lips. Surprisingly calm and undemanding at first, until Patton clearly and passionately reciprocated. Patton felt his heart flutter and his entire body growing lighter at the thought. Every part of himself doubted that it had been real. That it hadn’t just been a vivid daydream, or the product of staying in his room for too long. Yet, right there next to him, the proof was sleeping soundly.

At least, Patton thought he was sleeping.

“Good morning, my darling.” Janus cooed. His tone was drowsy and intimate, and the words alone were enough to make Patton melt. My darling.

Patton had been too caught up in his daydreaming to notice, that Janus had opened his eyes. They were attentive enough, for Patton to momentarily doubt, they had ever been closed in the first place. “G-good morning.” Patton said, unable to hide his genuine smile. He didn’t want to anyway. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I’ve been awake for a long time.” Janus said, his expression turning more contemplative. Then he smirked, “Not that I was watching you or anything, but it would appear you were watching me.”

Janus had the ability to make every single word he said sound like they held an incredible significance. Maybe Patton’s own feelings affected that perception. “I-I’m sorry. I-“

Janus laughed, and it was a wholly pleasant sound. Like music you couldn’t help but sing along to. “After everything that happened last night…” Janus whispered, moving a little closer. Patton felt Janus’ warm breath, brushing the side of his cheek. It made him shiver, but not in an unpleasant way. “You really think that would be an issue to me?”

If Patton wasn’t already blushing, he certainly was now. “I… I guess not.”

The arms around Patton’s waist became increasingly obvious to Patton, as Janus’ grip only seemed to tighten. Patton remembered the night before, and how one half of Janus had been so much colder than the other. Patton remembered how Janus had tensed up when Patton pointed it out, until Patton mumbled into the embrace how he thought it was kind of nice. He did. It was new. Just like every part of Janus, Patton discovered each moment they spent together. Janus wasn’t cold anymore. “Cat got your tongue?” Janus asked.

“No. A snake did.” Patton said without thinking.

Janus looked surprised for a moment, and Patton could’ve sworn he saw a shade of pink on the human side of Janus’ face. His breathing was shaky, as he smiled. “Did it now?”

Patton paused as he looked at the clock. “I should get up…” he said, his voice silent and sheepish.

Janus paused, as his grip loosened slightly. “Do you want to?”

Patton looked at Janus who was staring at him intently. Patton couldn’t quite read the expression, but the way Janus said it was so matter-of-factly. As if it was the simplest question in the world. “I should get up and make some breakfast for the others before they wake up.”

“That wasn’t what I asked. Do you want to get up?” Janus tried again.

Patton stared at Janus’ mismatched eyes, the curve of his lips and the pretty scales paving his cheek like clouds in the sky on a comfortable summer day, and a part of him concluded that no. He didn’t want to. “Not really.”

Janus’ grip tightened once again, and Patton felt protected. As if he could stay in that position forever. “Then don’t.” Janus said, simply.

“I have to-“ Patton said.

“No, you don’t.” Janus said, “They can cook their own breakfast. They don’t even really need to eat. We’re metaphysical human beings.”

“Bu-“

“Patton, there is no harm in staying a bit longer.” Janus said, and hearing him say Patton’s name so casually, was incredibly addicting, “You are allowed to practice a little selfishness. I thought we established that.” After a few moments of silence, he shrugged and added, “Besides. You keep me warm.”

Patton looked at Janus, lips parted. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathed.

Janus inhaled sharply, though Patton couldn’t tell if it was surprise or something else. He avoided eye contact, which was unlike the previous parts of their conversation. “So are you.”

Patton looked at Janus’ face as he was looking away. There was something restrained about it, but the blush was no longer subtle. Patton’s eyes fell upon the lips once again and he remembered how they had felt the night before. He remembered all of the fuzzy feelings inside of him, as a homely bitter taste reached the edge of his tongue. He was hit with an overwhelming urge. “May I… May I kiss you again?” Patton whispered, as if he didn’t want Janus to hear.

Janus turned to Patton again, eyes darting to Patton’s lips. He let go of Patton for a moment, leaving the warmth in Patton’s stomach twisting around, as if it was missing an outlet. Then, Janus used his free hand to trace Patton’s chin and cheeks. “Yes.” he replied.

And Patton obliged. He closed the space between them, and the kiss was gentle and drowsy. Janus tasted differently in the morning, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. It reminded Patton of the birds singing, and a cup of freshly brewed cinnamon tea. He could feel Janus’ heart near his own, beating in a steady and comforting rhythm. Janus’ hand was still placed lightly on Patton’s cheek, making it easy to pull away if he wanted to, but so much more appealing to stay. Patton was the one who pulled away, because he initiated the kiss and felt like it was his job to end it too. Janus’ lips were still parted. He opened his eyes and looked at Patton with a reflective fondness. Patton broke the silent and tender moment with some words he’d been afraid to say. “What does this mean?”

Janus’ eyes didn’t leave Patton’s. “What does what mean?”

Patton licked his lips and gestured between Janus and himself. “This.”

Janus’ expression became deeper. Darker. There was a hint of melancholy and awe in his eyes. Then he sighed deeply. “I don’t know.” The words sounded so truthful and certain, that it almost caught Patton off guard.

“So… We like each other.” Patton said, “Romantically, I mean.”

Janus let out a soft and dry chuckle, that made Patton’s heart flutter once again. “That’s true.”

“And that’s gonna… Snake a while to get used to?” Patton tried.

Janus smiled fondly, “Ah yes… I am terrified, but I couldn’t froget it if I tried.”

Patton giggled as Janus humoured his puns. “And the others… They’re not… Roman is…” Patton trailed off. What was he supposed to say? There was still tension everywhere he went. He was being ignored. Rightfully so. He would cook in the morning, leave it on the kitchen counter, and it would disappear throughout the day as soon as he left. No one was okay, and Patton didn’t have a single clue what to do about it. “They wouldn’t accept this uhm…”

“Relationship?” Janus finished, and while the word was noncommittal and unspecific, Patton couldn’t help but blush at it.

“Right.” Patton said.

Janus looked like he was deeply contemplating the situation, staring at the ceiling. Patton hesitantly reached for the other’s hand under the covers, and the touch was absentmindedly accepted. The gloved hand was silky and nice to the touch, though Patton couldn’t help but wonder what the skin underneath would feel like. “Well…” Janus started, “We could do the whole… Secret thing.”

“What do you mean?” Patton asked.

“You know, stolen glances, sneaking into each other’s room in the dead of night, intimate whispers and discreet touches.” Janus said. Each word sounded like it was being recited from a script, “Secrets and lies until the tension dies down.”

Patton listened to each word attentively and felt as if a string was pulling at his insides. He breathed. “I don’t think I want to lie. It’s not… Well it’s…”

Janus hummed, “Not quite your style, is it?”

“I wouldn’t be any good at it.” Patton admitted.

“Because you’ve never lied in the past?” Janus asked. The words came out differently than everything else he’d said. As if they had been building up inside him, waiting for the right moment to escape. “Never had a single fake smile painted upon those lips of yours?”

Patton felt his heart sink. “Well… I…”

Janus sighed, and looked Patton in the eyes with something akin to concern. “I apologize. It wasn’t meant to sound aggressive. It’s just… It’s so easy to see. Feel. Every single time. It gets… Tiring.”

“I’m sorry.” Patton said, but Janus didn’t seem happy with the response.

“Don’t apologize to me for that. There are many things worth apologizing for, but hiding your feelings isn’t one of them. You’re only hurting yourself with it, and frankly it is you who deserves to hear the apology.”

Patton felt confused for a moment and looked down at his and Janus’ joined hands. Then he looked at the ceiling. “I’m sorry Patton.”

Janus snorted quietly, “What are you sorry for?”

Patton continued. “I’m sorry for… Pretending to be happy… When I wasn’t. I should’ve listened to you, Patton. Let you feel what you needed to feel instead of repressing it. Feelings aren’t bad and repressing doesn’t do anyone any good.”

There was something else hidden in the apology that wasn’t directed at Patton, but rather a much more harmful mistake. “Good.” Janus said, silently. “Now all you have to do is make an honest effort to do better. Prove to yourself that you mean it.”

“I will.” Patton whispered determinedly. After a few moments of silence, Janus switched hands, letting his previously free hand rest in Patton’s, and placed his other in Patton’s hair. He stroked it gently. Patton felt safe. Calm. For a few minutes, Patton forgot about the tension, resting in the air everywhere he went. All he could think about was Janus and how he was right beside him. How they were together in every sense of the word.

“I really care about you, Patton.” Janus said. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t admitted before, but hearing it again proved just how sincere it was. “It scares me, and I am not sure how these feelings work, but I want to feel them anyway. I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

Patton giggled, and squeezed Janus’ hand gently. “That makes two of us.”

[sanscestships]

“Curse you.” (NightmarexCross)

Created on: 2/23/21

Requested by: No one ;-; still waiting for requests that will probably never come

also the OC that will be included in this chapter is Leviathan. They are a Sans alternate from my AU, Clawed!Tale. Their ship analysis, Electrolyzed Water is also available to read.

And yes, this will be a multi chapter oneshot. And sorry that it took so long. I lost motivation and got addicted to Genshin Impact.

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"Do you ever feel unappreciated?"

That question wouldn't disappear from his mind as Nightmare continued to tap his pen against the paper, glaring at the still tall as ever stack of paperwork he had to deal with. Curse Cross and his stupid way of hitting the nail on the head without ever trying. Curse him and his fucking weird ghost child that stalks him everywhere he goes, the damn Chara always looking for vulnerability within the team. Curse him and his giant fucking red knife, and heavy dependence on the abilities that Chara gives him. Just fuck him, and always hesitating when it came to fighting the Star Sanses. Curse his taco addiction and shitty stealth skills to sneak out and make tacos with the damn Swap. Curse his lingering affection for Ink, who doesn't feel a damn thing for him in return. Curse him and his fondness of his own brother-

"You're anger is starting to feed me," The black skeleton's head snapped up, noticing the faint green glow in the room. Narrowing his eye at the entity, he recognized them as Leviathan, a demon from a dead AU. They sometimes saw each other when going in and out of AUs, never doing anything to the other.

Nightmare kept them alive because of what they call, their "Sinful Aura". Something about them being a "sinful demon", and that they exude an aura of envy and jealousy. While they refused to join the team, they don't actually ally themselves with the Star Sanses either. That, and their constant generation of negativity convinced Nightmare to let them live. Keeping them alive meant more negativity for him to feed off, and that was fine by him.

The only problem, however, as how they keep popping up whenever and however they like.

It was already bad enough with that parasite, Fresh. Coming and going however he likes. Of course, Nightmare's threats to destroy his host and then him keeps him from going too far in trying to attack his servants. However, that doesn't make his presence anymore tolerable. While Leviathan isn't nearly as irritating as Fresh, they still grated on his nerves in their own special way.

"What do you want, demon?" He hissed, his eye glowing with power as the alcoholic skeleton huffed.

Waving their hand in the air, refilling their bottle with more alcohol, they took another sip as they levitated in front of his drawer. "I believe I made myself clear, didn't I? I'm the Demon of ENVY, not WRATH. Just like you're the Guardian of Negativity, not the King." The self-proclaimed King's aura became more hostile as they sat up mid-air. "Oi, just stating some facts. My point is: The fact you're anger is starting to feed me means it's not still anger. It's becoming ENVY. Jealousy. And unlike you, always looking for more negativity. I'm already full. A planet can only hold so much water. Too much... And it floods."

Another reason why Nightmare let them live: They're a coward. Too afraid to use their power. He has seen them fight, and knows they could be a powerful ally. However, they refuse to take a side; They continuously announce themselves as neutral. Too afraid of breaking the rules to ever pose a real threat to him. A fool afraid of power they should be embracing is no match for him. So why should he be worried?

However, he is not so much of a fool himself to underestimate others. He knows this demon should still be acknowledged. "What do you want, Leviathan?"

They rolled their green eye-lights. "Jeez, you still don't get it? Fine. I want you to stop being so damn jealous of whomever the fuck so I don't have to worry about getting fat with ENVY ya jackass."

Him? Jealous? The powerful Nightmare, King of Fear and Lord of Nightmares. Jealous? He had no idea what they were rambling on about. What would he be jealous of? Who would he be jealous of? Nightmare knew what envy was; He'd felt it when his brother got all the praise and attention back in their old AU, Dreamtale. And he knew for a fact what he felt right now, was NOT envy.

He was not jealous. Why would he be jealous? He had been thinking about that irritating anime, chocolate, and taco addict, Cross. Why would he be jealous of Cross? What did he have that Nightmare could possibly want? His Chara was devious, but irritating. His power was far superior to that of Cross's. Cross's backstory was nearly as messy as his own.

Or maybe it was just a trick, he realized. Leviathan had admitted it themselves; they were a demon. And almost all books he had read up on demons said they were manipulative and despicable; They do anything and everything for their own selfish desires. Who wasn't to say they weren't just messing with his head?

"They say redirection is one of the stages of jealousy," that cursed dog continued on, dampening his mood as his tentacles curved themselves to prepare to attack. "a word of warning: ignoring a problem only makes it worse. But if it helps, just know that everyone already knows about you and Cross, except for you and Cross."

Disappearing into the air, it took a few seconds for Nightmare to process what the demon just told them. Him... And Cross? What-

Suddenly, it became clear. All those times that Killer would suggest romance movies. All those excuses they made to leave during the movie, leaving him alone with Cross. All those looks he got whenever he handed Cross a chocolate bar to stop XChara's tantrums. Especially, the looks from Cross himself. When he got nervous at him walking into the room. When he got anxious when he got close. Nightmare wasn't a fool. He knew the hints when he saw them. It wasn't going to take him that long to figure it out.

He just didn't want to think about how bad the situation would become after he rejected Cross, and proved everyone else wrong that he did not reciprocate his feelings.

[h0llyalexander]

Favorite ship or ships?

Omg there are so many!!! I'm just gonna use this opportunity to compliment everyone and gush over these ships bc they deserve it.

There's Holly x Athena (@welshwritings) I LOVEEE<3333 that they're total opposites, it's so entertaining. Athena is such a well-written character, and her lore is so interesting to me, and all the connections she has with her siblings and the different powers she has, and just the idea of a mortal falling in love with an immortal. I know it's a total cliché but I am a sucker and I love it.

There's Holly x Arna (@markedbytheuniverse), and omg the ANGST. I love that there's never a dull moment with them. We basically don't let them have peace ever, bahaha. Arna is also really well-developed, I like that her drug addiction is a persistent issue because it feels realistic to me, like it's not something that you just get over in a few days or something that's just magically 'fixed' by Holly loving her enough.

Holly x Elena (@tittypriestess), I love how dramatic their situation is, and I love that Elena cares enough about Holly to basically ruin a whole show and risk her career.

Holly x Desi (@chasingdeadends) They're super messy/angsty, and they have the whole 'bisexual girl seduces closeted lesbian' theme going on which I adore!! Their interactions with NPC's/other muses are always fun too, they all have different relationships with each other and it's really fun to see them sort of developing a group dynamic that stays consistent, even if the situations around them change.

Holly x Rowan (@reynlrunnr) I ship this, whether Rowan agrees with it or not lmao. This might sound weird but I kinda like how Rowan has very real concerns about getting into something romantic with Holly, like her fears about getting into a commited relationship because of issues in her past love life feel very relatable to me.

Holly x Davina (@mversefunhouse) Okay so I don't know if I can really call this a ship, because it's more like...Davina is just really evil? But I love unapologetically evil muses, they're very fun to play AND to play against. I feel like Davina is such a skilled liar, it makes total sense to me that she played the shit out of Holly.

Holly x Marisa (@viciousgold) Ok so I know they're like kinda new, but I love the way you write Marisa and how intricate her backstory is. It really forces me to write stuff outside of the box I usually write in, in a really good way! Holly x Rosalie (@lovekilling) Idk why it won’t let me tag you I tried to edit this post like five times *cries* Anyway I love their back and forth and their sexual tension omg. It’s like one of those will they won’t they couples in a sitcom, but like...sexually.

Lastly, if we have a ship but I didn't mention you, don't worry I still totally love and appreciate what we have going on! Some of them are still very new and we didn't plot much yet so I didn't know if it would be appropriate to add them in here xD BUT if you want me to gush about our ship/come up with some headcanons/plot more with you, PLEASE shoot me a message and we can totally do that! <3