#ITS FUCKING HUUUUGE

[trappedham]

Hhhhh I forgot how much work went into "lightly renovating" a seabase...

[moe-broey]

Oh my god how could I forget. The Summoner and the Summoner alone having Jesus FUCKING Christ rights

[gorbo-longstocking]

pants are for savages didnt you know?

[spidehpig]

the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap. 

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought. 

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive. 

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival. 

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior. 

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now. 

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm. 

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it. 

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology. 

Ghost decides that he hates her for it. 

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman. 

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top. 

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs. 

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick. 

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini. 

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk. 

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face. 

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs. 

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock. 

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp. 

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him. 

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep. 

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment. 

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.” 

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost. 

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest.  Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

[gallifreyanwriter]

Please please please read Broken Road if you havent already, OP. I am begging you

A lot of John-comes-back fics seem to be about Dean affirming his role as Winchester patriarch in the face of his father, which doesn't really work for me. There are several reasons why:

Literally nobody needs to be the family patriarch. Do we all know this? I feel like I'm going insane.

Dean being the Winchester patriarch is actively making his and everyone else's lives worse.

I just don't think he could do that.

I think Dean faced with John would abandon that role so quickly you would blink and miss it. Just immediately back to being John's little liutenant and grovelling. When he's pathetic <3 except even more rancid because he's only like ten years or so younger than John. And at this point *does* have a much more extensive knowledge and experience of the supernatural.

Sam would have to either rediscover his rebellious streak or confront how beaten down by life he had become and that would be so fun, I think. Instant existential crysis.

And finally, while Cas did join the John Winchester cult, it was not with like, John Winchester still in it. I don't know how he would accept getting ordered around by someone who is not Dean. Plus there is of course the potential tension with Cas being an angel and John being a much more indescriminate monster killer in some sense (ie, he does not harbor sympathies for Cas and I am not sure he even is someone who makes exceptions based on sympathies).

Anyway, it would be so rancid <3 for me <3

Where's *that* fic.

[ineedjesusverymuch]

Diabolik lovers headcanons pt. 3 (even more stuff)

Hi, it's been a while, no? Even though I feel a bit like I'm screaming into an empty void, I do enjoy writing my thoughts down.

The Diabolik Lovers fandom gets smaller and smaller and since just a few blogs are active, I wanted to post more! I know that without Rejet producing more content (that is canon and not "just" new merchlines, even though I deeply love the art), the dl fandom is bound to shrink. But: now, there are a lot of very respectful blogs, which I do enjoy! The toxicity just shrinks a lot on smaller fandoms. And I really love that no slander of Yui is happening!

Now, lets get into the headcanons after my short ramble.

I won't write anything nsfw this time, just a quick psa.

⚠ I'll try to mark anything that could be triggering with this: ❗trigger warning ❗

⚠This post will briefly discuss topics like: parental trauma and childhood trauma.⚠

The topics in this post will be mostly happy or cute (?), asks are always appreciated!

As always, I'll try to be at least a bit true to canon. But... Well.

this time I did not just ramble about Kanato, I think I talked about Laito quite a bit though...

Headcanons under the cut ⬇

First of all: Shu.

Genuinely loves dogs (remember the scene with Yuma? The little puppy? Yes.)

All fluffy dogs are loved, just as all other dogs.

Loveslovesloves Golden retrievers and sheperd dogs. Likes big dogs a bit more than small dogs, more to hug.

Deeply hates toads. Not frogs, toads. He thinks they're quite ugly and hates how big they can get

Shu is Not dumb but being a little fuck by not-obeying-karlheinz's-orders-like-being-good-in-school

Has only socks with terrible obnoxious patterns, like the weirdest psychedelic shit? I'm talking about rainbow colored mushrooms on sunyellow backdrop and comical faces. (Ngl, it's a vibe)

Huuuuge crush on Yuma. He likes his long hair and the fact that Yuma doesn't try to lie to him. Shu likes honest people and Yuma with his blunt approach is amazing for him. Also, he is convinced that Yuma is very simple to understand, nit at all complicated like some other people.

Next in Line is Reiji! What a surprise.

Has a huge collection of Hand cream and lotion. He has those long, slim fingers and his nails are manicured so impeccable that they don't even look real anymore.

Wears only black socks. Its a hassle to sort them since some of them have different lengths or fabrics

Has pet rats. Definitely pet rats.

They're cute and all but he's named ever single one outrageous names like Berthold and Brunhilde, the typical old german names you'd read in very old books.

Reiji Is able to speak not only german, japanese and the demon language but can also speak latin (even though shu is on a much higher level), a bit of French and russian.

Would be the type to do things simply out of sprite. Shu once mentioned not liking blue curtains and now all curtains are blue.

Has an academic rivalry with Ruki. All the other students (including Ruki) think they're flirting, only Reiji is oblivious.

Next: our boy Ayato!

Hates bees with a passion.

Kanato once "gifted" him a box of bees out of spite (the little shit put the whole bee hive in that box), ever since then Ayato runs as soon as humming from a bee can be heard in a ten mile ratio. (Being outside is very exhausting for everyone, himself included)

Very much enjoys shows like Brigderton and say yes to the dress. Loves the drama and the intrigue.

Ayato actually? Doesn't hate his brothers??? He likes to bicker with them, especially his other triplets, but genuinely cares about them. He's just a bit too emotionally stunted on that front (thank you cordelia).

Likes not only takoyaki but also any type of japanese festival food. I'm talking about mochi, dango and tayaki, etc.

the type to have lactose intolerance and ignore it completely to seem "cool"

went on an ice cream date with Yui once and spent the entire night in the bathroom because he was too proud to say no

Actually wears makeup? I'm not talking about full-on glam but a bit concealer and eyeliner. Ayato has red mascara and omfg he looks so good with it???

Laito and he enjoy playing those multiplayer games for nintendo

He has an entire village on animal crossing that is managed by him and Laito together

Next in line: Kanato!

I have made quite long posts about him in the past so I wont elaborate on some things that I already wrote down.

Very skilled at makeup. Like top-level skill. Wears eyeliner, liptint or gloss and glitter under and on his eyes. Light blush is a must-have!

Can crochet and knit but is often too impatient to make bigger projects

Will hyperfocus on things like historical fashion and garments for weeks at a time.

Once was so focused on the black plague that he didn't drink blood for like five weeks and passed out until he was fed some blood

Gremlin.

Has a friendship with Yuma? They plant plants together and since Kanato (canonically) likes apples, Yuma will bring him some after plucking.

Kanato enjoys tea time with Reiji

Kanato also likes to gossip with Laito. Or more like: Laito gossips and Kanato sits next to him and munches on some sweets.

Huge crush on Azusa. (I went into more detail on that in earlier posts but I'll answer any questions on that matter! Feel free to send me asks or prompts!)

He and Ayato have both the same interest for old fairy tales and will read them together on those nights were everything just comes up again

❗Laito will comfort him when Kanato has nightmares and Kanato will be there for Laito, since they went through a bit if the same things even though Laito's was much more intense

Cuddle time with Shu

Quiet time with Subaru

Now Laito!

Can speak a fuckton of languages.

I don't care if its canon but Laito is like B2 Level of French. Is able to discuss theological matters is perfect french.

Can also speak italian like all the triplets but he's also able to speak a bit german, polish and romanian

Friends with Kou! ❗They're really good ffriends and can understand what the other went though. Laito stays often over night at Kou's and they spend the night watching funny movies (Deadpool is Laitos current favourite)

Laito enjoys comics. He likes Marvel and DC a lot!

We know that Laito likes crossword puzzles but like. He's so good at them it's almost frightening. Is able to not only do japanese ones but also french.

So intelligent???

Not only booksmart but also "people smart". He notices the smallest things on people around him, constantly analizes everyone. Knows a lot about medicine and psychology.

Loves learning new things.

Has immense knowledge about the universe, is able to name every single star sign on the sky.

in the games we often see Laito wear casual clothing. My headcanon is that he likes the sort of style skaters usually wear.

Really likes cargo pants since everything fits in all of the pockets

Wears oversized hoodies and shirts

Has those two piercings on his left earlobe but also has a lip piercing on the right lower lip and a septum that he got when he was bored

As soon as he's alone, he let's the perverted fassade fall down. He doesn't smile a lot actually, more along the lines of a serious face most of the time.

It took a bit for him to be able to drop that fake face of his in front of Kou and his other triplets but after some time he got used to not fake being friendly and perverted.

Dropped the infamous "bitch-chan" after some time, now uses Yui's actual name. The -chan stayed though.

Last but not least: Subaru!

has very soft plushies in his coffin

Loves those tiny fluffy bunnies. Lionheads especially!

Very gentle with animals.

Animals love him (#disneyprincesssubaru)

once tried to color his hair, it went horrible and his hair was a patchy muddy color for eight weeks

Wears eyeliner. The black, brush-tip ones

Long eyelashes. They genuinely look fake.

So pretty

Is naturally more fair and frail-looking than some other vampires so he tries to roughen himself up

❗Bruises his knuckles and bites his lips to look more dangerous. Even though the scowl he usually wears is more than enough to ward off anyone who wants to pick a fight...

Also friends with Kou (Kou really collects Sakamakis like pokemons)

Wears black nail polish but it chips off pretty fast due to the gardening Subaru does

Bonding time with Kanato is applying nail polish together

Enjoys playing pool and darts with Shu when his older brother has enough motivation

Knows he is fucked up from all the stuff with his mother and wouldn't be opposed to therapy (at least after some sweet talk from Yui... And a whole lot of promises for new seeds for his garden and a new set of black clothes)

Has a motor bike and it's his entire pride

Polishes it every week and has a lot of clothes for biking

Takes trips to somewhere when he's bored and/or annoyed by his other brothers

does not realize that Kou flirts with him every time they do something together (obliviousness lies in the family)

So! That's it? I guess? Sometime in the future I'll write about the Mukamis too, I promise!

If there's anything you'd like me to write about, just send me an ask.

And to whoever reads this: I appreciate the time you took to read my post and I hope you have an amazing day/night !

you are truly appreciated!

[canaidliafail]

stay grounded pt.2

streamer Abby anderson x streamer reader 🌿

[part 1] [part 3]

TW: weed & poor usage of the english language. MDI

quick note: HUUUUGE thank you to all the comments and reblogs and asks 🥹🤲🏻 I never thought I would get to experience such overwhelming support regarding my silly lil fics so Im very grateful and hope you enjoy the upcoming parts just as much

24 full hours passed until the moment you were almost ready to open her message. You didn’t know what to say or what she was going to ask. You liked the message there because what if the conversation just didn’t go well? What if she was reaching out to complain about your fans ? or what if…well just

what if

You checked the time and then your phone.Depending on where she lived you either were about to respond way too early or way too late and that mattered to you a lot because you needed to have excuses made accordingly for he lack of responding

“she is at the gym” or “she’s probably asleep”

“heyyyy :)” you typed the response and stared at it for a hard minute. Was it childish? no it was fine, it seemed friendly

you erased it and typed a “hi :)”

no now I seem passive aggressive

you erased it again and typed a “heyy” and pressed send before you could overthink that as well. Your eyes were glued on the screen and you almost forgot to blink. After a few minutes you exited the convo and pretended you were busy re-organizing the furniture in your living room and sweeping the surface of the coffee table. Your phone pinged and you lunged yourself on the couch grabbing it and looking at who texted you

It was June who sent you a link to a tiktok.

june: check this out!!!

kys

you typed annoyed and she sent a crying face with a series of messages complaining about how much of a bully you were. You opened your ps4 and decided to continue playing valhalla

your fingers started to twitch and you kept clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth stressed. You needed a distraction so in the spur of the moment you posted a story announcing you would be doing a casual stream playing valhalla in 30 minutes and went to roll a blunt while preparing everything.

you checked your phone one last time to see that your message was still left unopened and you feared it would stay that way.

“fuck snap out of it” you whispered rubbing your temples and taking one last slow drag. You carefully put the blunt on your moon shaped ashtray and left it on the living room along with your phone which was on mute.

You did your makeup and checked yourself ok the monitor a couple of times making sure everything looked right from every angle and looked at the mirror at the side of your computer checking your posture and how the clothes you chose sat on you.

You went for the disheveled look with a baggy T and sweat’s structured in a way that looked messy. You would never admit that this carefree “breezy” look took you a good few hours to perfect

you finally turned on your stream and waited for the majority of people to tune in “Hey everyone!”

you greeted them and started reading through the comments while discreetly checking yourself in the viewfinder so that your jaw stayed sharp and your hair in tact

“Hi nice to have you back Grim!” you tried to engage in longer conversations with names you saw pop up frequently in your streams and 20 minutes in you sat back and went to open your game

“alright I don’t have much time today but I thought we could hang out while I go do some tasks in valhalla. I wanna clear out some regions”

you went back and forth from your game screen to your chat occasionally replying but mostly reacting to the game

“Oh that Eivor figure ? Yes so as much as I want it I just can’t justify a purchase like that yet…But hey its on my wishlist so I owe a date to anyone who gets it for me” you said with a soft chuckle and then paused the game to throw out a disclaimer

“seriously though don’t- I, I mean sure do that if you want to but I know kost of you are college students so please don’t throw your money on me in such a way ok?” you said and checked the chat with a soft smile. A big chunk of your crowd was very sweet saying that they wanted to get you something from your wishlist and you entertained them while also reminding them to be responsible with their money

truthfully you made enough from this job and while your wishlist was open you didn’t have the necessity to ask people for gifts unless they started the conversation first

The stream was nice and slow without much happening till out of nowhere you started hearing more and more often the “subscribed to your channel” notification and started getting confused

“My god, welcome but where are all of you coming from?” you asked genuinely confused and saw the chat interacting with another favored figure. Favored by you and by your overlapping audience

staygrounded69: So this is the game you recommended. Looks interesting

Your ears were burning and your hands started to shake. You pretending to be reading, not trusting yourself to speak without stuttering. Abby, Abigail fucking Anderson was watching your stream

“Oh look whos here! Id tell you all to greet Abs but I'm sure most of you somehow found me through her today” you awkwardly said and went back to the game. Someone shamelessly sent a superchat with a voice note

“Abby should dress up as Eivor. She has the muscles” and your eyes widened at the image of that.

“That's a nice idea but she should play the game and see if she even likes it in the first place guys”

staygrounded69: Im intrigued by it for sure!

you could almost here her, hell you could almost picture the way she would say that and it did nothing to calm your nerves so in a rush you tried to end the stream feigning sleep taking over you and saying a bold lie that you had early classes tomorrow.

Once you logged out you turned off your pc and sat on your chair for a good few minutes breathing in and out thinking back to what had just happened

this was impossible. How? Why? no back to how. Actually why is better

why did she watch my stream?

You jumped off your chair and ran to the living room remembering the message. Sure enough there was a notification from the woman herself. Multiple actually

staygrounded69: the game you suggested seems interesting enough. Wanna gimme a summary of it yourself?

and then

staygrounded69: sorry was that overwhelming? Shit my fans go wild sometimes

You tapped to see her stories and her last was a photo of her living room, her dog Alice on the floor laying and her screen showing your stream. You took a good look at the image and your eyes stayed fixed on the corner of the pic where you could see her cropped frame showing only her spread legs in those mouth watering gray sweatpants

you went back to the messages

No its fine! caught me off guard is all but thanks for the shoutout <33

you answered and cringed at how formal and distant your response seemed

And of course I hope you actually enjoyed my stream

you waited and waited and a few minutes later you saw the sent turn into seen and the three dots appeared of her typing and deleting her message

staygrounded69: I did. Weird I never came across you before but you are very entertaining. Got a good look at what valhalla is about as well

no please don’t judge it by my stream today! its so much more than the shitty little quests I did today

you rushed to send the message, your passion overclouding your judgment and throwing your plans on the mysterious flirting out of the fucking window

You wanted to double text and divert the conversation to something else so that it would keep going but didn’t know how and felt that perhaps, that would’ve been a little more ambitious of you. After all she did only text you about the game in the first place

While you weren’t surprised about it but was a bit crestfallen, the conversation ended there with Abby leaving you on seen

•••

the next two days you obsessively waited for her to post a photo, which she didn’t and waited for a story which there was none and eventually with your friends help you shoved your phone in your bag and tried to get over it

It helped that you had a fat stack of assignments to work through for the week so you buried your head in fabrics and threads and tried to finish the project that was given.

a suit, which meant one inch sewn too far and the thing would be loose and crooked. You used once again yourself as a model for the costume since dragging your friends away from their work and studies didn’t sit well with you. Besides, anyone would be bored of having to sit and wait for you to stitch ,measure, sew, tell them to get up, make them put it on and then do all of that fifty times over till you got the piece right.

Cassie did insist she would love doing that for you given that she had the time but you still refused.

You would love to eventually have an actual model for your end of year fashion show but until then You'd just have to do.

By Friday everything was fixed and wrapped ready to be presented. You were waiting in line as all of you presented your work to the professor and she took her time studying each student's work. You had already tried the suit on and had taken photos to have proof that the measurements were correct both on you and on the doll that you used so you weren't too worried about it.

You had posted the photos on your profile unsure of how they would go since you felt like no one would care enough about things unrelated to the games you play.

“You did a good job. This Fabric though, Why did you choose it?”

your throat was dry and your nerves on edge

“I wanted the extra effect and felt velvet would look good on some parts”

“I see. Try to add extra effect when you learn how to do the basics first, alright?”

You wanted to cry but just gave a curt nod, put the suit back in the bag and went to the back of the class waiting for the short examination to end. This week had a banging start and a Godawful end and you couldn’t wait to go home and sleep it off. You checked the time. one more class and then you were free

In between lectures you decided to head to the cafeteria to see if there was anything left to snack on besides protein bars that tasted like dust or chips which, of course there wasn’t. Kitchen was open only in the early hours which left all of you who had afternoon-night classes to starve and figure it out on your own. With a sigh you went to the guy and asked for a coffee

“I want-“

“Iced latte, sugar and hazelnut syrup. Don’t worry I remember the type of cake you get in your espresso”

you chuckled and leaned against the counter scrolling leisurely through your feed not bothering to check the likes or comments yet

“long week?”

“yeah and I had project presentation too”

“oh shit. What major are you in again?”

“Fashion design and construction. I like it not complaining just-“

You were checking everyone's stories eventually landing on Ellies and had to double check making sure you weren’t mistaken or too sleep deprived to see well. She has shared your post of you wearing your velvet crimson suit. A deep V cut suit and she boldly left a little note at the corner

A good day to be a lesbian

“just?” The barista asked passing you, your coffee which you barely heard, too confused on how she even found you. Making the immediate and only reasonable connection you checked Abby's feed. She had shared your photo a few hours before ellie did and she left a little comment of her own. Way more specific and catered to you making your stomach do a backflip

This woman ♡

Your knees were weak and you started to feel nauseous. You took a seat at the counter looking up at the barista

“mind if I take a seat?”

“sure, did something happen? You don’t look so good”

“I'm fine- thanks…Just light headed”

“alright take your time”

he went back to his work, his frame disappearing behind the door of the -staff only- room leaving you alone.

Thankfully the cafeteria had few people left. two girls at the far east corner on their computers and a guy on the other end of the counter listening to music on his phone and taking notes.

You sent the screenshots to your groupchat. after 10 minutes of being left on “delivered” You spammed them with different meaningless messages to get their attention. Cassie was the first to cave in

cassie: Should we call you international casanova now or…?

CASSIE!!

June: They are both in seattle so I guess she's moving locally

Cassie: Seattle is 1,000€ away from our country so not really

Guys can you help?! Im panicking

Do I text Abby? should I respond

June: YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY?! YES OF COURSE SHE IS SENDING YOU HINTS

Cassie: Damn you really said “I will miss every chance God throws at me”

Rick: sent a link to a facebook post

Cassie: ???

You laughed, feeling a little better trying to ignore the obvious set for failure that any of this flirting was considering that indeed, Abby lived too far

You shook your head and went to respond to her story. If you just thanked her, this wouldn’t go anywhere. If you whined about your teacher this would show uncomfortable familiarity

Took me a week but was worth the effort♡

you responded and her immediate reply came few seconds later

staygrounded69:You made this?! Man you’re talented

No no it's just…measuring and shit.Anyone who’s handy with crafting could learn that

staygrounded69:You could say I'm good with my hands yeah…

You choked on your coffee and started coughing, your arm over your mouth to drown the noise. You had the most stupid smile on your face. You grabbed your bag and decided that you would skip the last class to go back home. No, you needed to enjoy this the way you enjoyed reading a good romance book and the only way to do that was in the comfort of your apartment.

once you reached the bus stop you opened your phone again and went to your chat

Man she was shameless and you leaving her on read for 20 minutes did nothing to make her falter. You could definitely get behind this attitude. It was expected that someone so timid and shy would probably have a nastier side and you really wanted to find out to what extent that went

And here I was hoping to teach you

staygrounded69:That’s one way to spend our date. Learning how to sew sounds interesting

Date? You sure are bold

staygrounded69:Am I? its you who owes me one. Don’t go back on your word now

You looked at the message puzzled, your smile dropping due to the genuine confusion. Did she mistake you for someone else ? Was this message directed to another girl? your bus came and the doors slid open with the rest of the college students walking in. You looked up at their moving frames and finally had a spark of an idea.

it was stupid and a reach but you did make that stupid offer on your stream regarding the ¼ scale Eivor statue.

You checked your wishlist and scrolled all the way down before finally switching to the “purchased” section.

It was there

you went back to your chat

insane. You are insane

staygrounded69; Dont worry about it. Its not the different from getting you coffee

jesus how much do these sponsors pay you?!

you asked and chuckled awkwardly to yourself. Needless to say. You had very well missed your bus too focused on the conversation and the unexpected direction it took. In the back of your mind you had a bad hunch. This didn’t feel like Abby. But you didn’t know Abby so you decided to push it back for once and let yourself enjoy whatever was going on

Staygrounded69: Sponsors are good and all but the real deal comes from my onlyfans

Your brows shot up and your eyes went from your phone to the side of the pavement. You kicked a stone and let it tumble.

She had onlyfans. Abby anderson had onlyfans and you had no idea. Oh this was dangerous information. You were sure your bank was about to cancel your cards by telepathically reading your mind any minute now.

My bad, I had no idea.

staygrounded69: Yeah set it up not too long ago which fuck, I left you on read cause things were all over the place with work. Sorry for that

Your heart felt warm and you were glad to redirect the heat in your pants to somewhere more productive. Preferably that would’ve been your brain but that didn’t work even when Abby wasn’t involved.

its cool, I get it

staygrounded69: Now about that date

I'd love to but I happen to live a few

countries away from yours

staygrounded69: Then how about you make some time for me and we can play a game together sometime this week?

you bit your lip. You could not believe this. You would go on call with her. The most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet wanted to go on a call with you and play a game. Ha! and people say romance is dead

deal 💕

you said and content you locked your phone and took a seat at the bus stop waiting for your ride. You felt a little more appreciative of how your week ended after all

—————————

coming next: cotton exploring Abbys OF page so next episode will finally have some spice <3

thank you for reading

[katasstrophy]

heyy new follower here!

i lovee your works btw. ive seen a lot of enemies to lovers for michael kaiser but i just have a feeling that in bed he would be very loving and gentle. thoughts?

hi there nonnie, welcome! 😊 that’s so sweet of you to say, thank you <3 not gonna lie i’m a huuuuge sucker for enemies to lovers. call me a basic trope bitch but i just think it’s very yummy lol. HOWEVER,,,, 👀

SMUT! MDNI! fem-coded reader. mentions of hair.

kaiser’s an eccentric man, which i feel like would translate into great variety in the bedroom. his preferences lean towards the rougher side, but he loves to have you in a number of ways — it really all comes down to his or your immediate mood.

a quicky in the grimy airport bathroom before he leaves for some big-shot soccer tournament. eagerly sucking his cock in the backseat of his multimillion-euro brand car after an important but expected win — because the one thing michael kaiser isn’t is a loser — that turns into him brutally abusing your throat as he fucks into it. diving between your thighs and making you cum on his tongue again and again ’til your mind is but a fog of his name and your pleasure, because it’s a better, more sane alternative to presenting you his choked-up heart in all its bloody rottenness after he laid eyes on the small, secret smile you offered upon his arrival home.

whatever the specifics end up being, sex with kaiser is always passionate. and from the way his fingers dig into your flesh, hands raking up your back, into your hair, hoisting up your thighs, lips always chasing to lick and mouth and kiss at your body wherever he can reach, it’s so obvious he craves touch during intimate moments there’s really no need to voice it. 

kaiser’s confidence in himself never truly wavers, and while he believes your self-confidence should mirror his — you’re exceptional on levels he has no hopes of reaching, after all — he knows your mind doesn't always allow that for you. you, like most, have bad days. deep down, especially as he grows older and matures, kaiser also knows the way he is can be… a lot to deal with, let alone love wholeheartedly like you do.

harbouring such feelings often culminates in sex so deep, kaiser's tender, steady thrusts inside you almost penetrating your soul, your panting mouths merely a breath apart murmuring adorations for each other and praise for how good the other is making you feel. the support of his palm at your waist would ease the burn of your thighs as you’d roll on top to ride him, slowly, needy whines echoing in the pockets of space between you as you cradle his jaw and kiss him senseless in your soft lovemaking.

i think kaiser would be loving and gentle during sex if that’s the kind of affection he and his darling lover would need.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I thought I had it figured out, then it turned around and betrayed me. I wish I could actively attack Google for the nightmare that is their table of contents function.

Over here fighting for my life in the Google Doc. The table of contents is escaping me. I can't do this.

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), slow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: here's part 3! it's looking like this story is going to be surpassing my usual 5 parts... so, um... i hope everyone gets invested enough to keep reading past that!

Wordcount: 4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

You couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was so dumb. But... you simply couldn't help it.

That framed picture somehow would find its way back into your thoughts every so often. It felt a little weird, but you also kept almost automatically rationalising it for yourself. You had photos with Mark all over; your social media pages were littered with photographs of the two of you throughout the years, and the comments accompanying them would probably make anyone feel the same way you did about that framed photograph in Joe's hallway.

So then, why did that framed photograph feel so weird to you?

Joe loved Poppy like you loved Mark, you knew that to be true. The only reason Poppy wasn't weird about your friendship with Mark was because of her friendship with Joe.

You all understood on a level not many other people did.

But still... you didn't know why, but, that photograph of the two of them felt... odd. Kind of raised your hackles a little. So, you asked Mark if he'd seen it when he was over at yours for snack night: a night of lots of snacks and dips as a substitute for dinner.

"So, I've got a question... remember when I went over to visit Joe two weeks ago?"

Mark snuck a baby carrot into his mouth that scooped up a dollop of hummus twice its size, and then immediately wanted to say something.

"Hmm," Mark hummed urgently, his face in a deep frown as he chewed.

It took ages for him to get it down, but you waited because going straight in to call Mark's fiance's friend weird might not have been the best way to go about this.

"Yea, what the fuck happened?" Mark asked, eyes big, but already aimed at another snack to grab from another bowl.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened,"

Mark looked at you all sarcastically as he chewed, as if to say, yea, all right, sure.

"What? We talked about your wedding, set dates for events, you know, figured some things out," you waved a hand around to convey the casuality, "But–"

You were about to ask Mark if he'd seen that framed photo of Joe and Poppy that he'd cropped the two of you out of, but Mark interjected before you could bring it up.

"No... something happened." Mark said matter-of-factly and then he paused and looked at you, ready to listen to what you had to say for yourself. But, you kept quiet too, because what the fuck was he on about? So, Mark continued, "Joe didn't speak to Poppy for like... five days? Four or five days after that, which is," Mark leant back and tilted his head back to shout his next words towards the ceiling, "a huuuuge deal!"

"Oh, well, that must've been unrelated to our meeting... we just talked about your wedding, he said I was nice, and–"

"Ah!"

Mark pointed a finger at you that he held right next to his face, one eye closed as he looked at you.

"That's it. He said you were nice,"

"I am nice," you argued.

"Yea, we tell Joe all the time... but he said you were nice?"

Opting to ignore the fact that you'd now heard from several sources that people were talking about you behind your back, you explained how you'd nearly walked out after Joe thought he was being smart that night. How you had said that you were a nice person, implying that Joe could just have been friendly and polite, and it would've been normal. And then you explained how, at the end of the night, Joe had struggled through telling you that he agreed and thought you were nice too. You mocked Joe to paint a vivid picture for Mark and exaggeratedly stuttered your way through the words Joe'd said.

Mark just ate and listened to you, and by the end shook his head a little at your impression, a dangerous smile playing his face.

"But have you seen that framed photograph he has in his hallway? Right by the front door?"

You finally got to the point you were trying to make.

"Of Pop?"

"The one we're cropped out of," you were hoping for Mark to be a little outraged, but he remained totally calm.

"Yea, Poppy has the same one, we've got it framed upstairs, on the landing," Mark said as he licked spilled mascarpone from his finger. "Smaller version, though,"

"We're cropped out of that,"

"Yea,"

"Mark... we're cropped out of that," you needed more of a reaction from him.

"Yes."

But you didn't get it. Mark didn't seem bothered at all. Like you'd said, Mark was made of trust and had just gone and proven it once more.

"He went and had a photo printed that he then had to cut two people out of... don't you think that's weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"I mean, I don't know... there are so many other pictures of the two of them, why did he choose a pic that he had to cut us out of,"

Mark shrugged, said, "It's a nice photo of them," and that was that. It was a nice photo of them. It just... it bothered you. You were unable to articulate why it did, exactly.

A phone buzzed on the table, and both of you looked to see if yours was the one that was ringing. It turned out to be Mark's.

Joe was calling.

"Speaking of," Mark said, answering and bringing the phone to his ear, "Joe!"

Mark listened, then rolled his eyes at you even though you had no idea what Joe was telling him.

"How drunk?"

You couldn't help but let a huffed laugh escape you. Poppy and Joe had gone to the pub, you knew. Context clues filled you in on the situation.

"Fucking hell," Mark said and kind of slumped into your sofa more as he listened to whatever Joe was telling him. "I mean, I'd give you advice, but you've been in this situation more than I have,"

Mark was going to have to leave, wasn't he?

He suddenly laughed loudly at something Joe said, head tipped back, mouth wide open, before muttering, "Shared responsibility," softly, indicating he was repeating Joe's words back to him.

"Yea, no. All right, that's fine... see you in a bit. Keep a close eye on her, though, will you?"

Mark said it with love so evident in his voice, it made you scrunch up your eyebrows. If someone else had been there, you'd have made eye-contact with them and would've probably audibly awed.

Mark laughed again at something Joe said, then shook his head as he looked at you, like you knew what the fuck was going on.

When Mark hung up, he turned to you and without any warning said, "Let's go, we're going to the pub."

When you walked in about twenty minutes later, the place was absolutely packed.

"Go grab four beers, I'll find them," Mark said, and you asked, "Four beers? Not three beers and, I don't know, a sprite for Pop?"

"Four beers," Mark said again, holding four fingers up for emphasis before he pushed himself in between a few people and disappeared into the crowd. Off to find Poppy and Joe.

You turned towards the bar and sighed at the fact that Joe and Poppy hadn't just gone to a normal pub, but somehow, one that seemed to exclusively house an after-work-drinks sort of crowd. Most people were dressed smartly, men in suits with top buttons undone and women in pencil skirts and high heels that crossed their legs at the ankles as they held drinks against forearms that were folded over their stomachs. You were in jeans and converse and definitely felt out of place, but the atmosphere was nice. You almost couldn't hear the music over the loud chatter and the belly laughs.

Just when you thought, okay so how am I going to get these four drinks over to my friends when I don't know where they are, all three of them popped up right beside you.

And Poppy was wasted.

"Babe," she slurred as she slung both her arms around your neck the minute she laid eyes on you; eyes that were barely open and kind of crossed over, mind you.

For someone semi-posh, Poppy got sloppy alarmingly quick when alcohol entered her system. She was like you in that way.

"I love you, you know that?" Poppy sprayed into your ear loudly, voice control out of the window, and it made you wince at Mark over her shoulder.

"I'm taking her home," Mark said and that's when you noticed that Joe was trying to get one of Poppy's arms into her coat. She was still attached to you, however, so it really wasn't working out for him.

"I really do," Poppy didn't pay Joe any mind and instead evaded his hands and grabbed you by the face as she pulled back from her hug. For a second you were scared she was going to plant a fat drunk kiss right onto your face.

"Not like Mark does obviously, but I do love you, you're amazing,"

You frowned through a smile, not sure where this was coming from. Had Joe and Poppy talked about the two of you like you and Mark had talked about the two of them? That didn't sound completely out of this world. Kind of made sense, actually.

"Okay, Poppy," your frown turned into scrunched up eyebrows, but your smile remained, unwavering.

"No, listen to me," Poppy got all serious, her hands still clasping your face. She tried to make stern eye-contact, but her eyes were dancing.

"Let's go Pop," Mark interrupted, but it was like he wasn't even there.

"You're so important,"

She was so, so drunk. You could smell the liquor on her breath.

"Thanks,"

"And nice,"

You shot eyes over to Joe who quickly looked down, folding Poppy's coat over his arm, giving up on trying to get Poppy to put it on. He passed it to Mark who leant in to say something closer to his ear that you didn't catch, but Joe laughed, mouthed, "Tequila," and then held up 6 fingers. Mark groaned.

"Poppy," you moved your hands to covers hers and softly pried them off of you. "Thank you. I love you too. But, look who's waiting," you pointed a small finger over her shoulder at Mark, and Poppy seemed very annoyed which only made you laugh.

"Let's go, babe," Mark took hold of Poppy's shoulders and you saw him work to hold her up as much as he was working to guide her towards the exit. Her feet were everywhere and nowhere, just like her the aim of her eyes.

"Good luck," Joe grinned at Mark who looked back over his shoulder.

The two of you made eye-contact, and within 2 seconds of just looking at each other, you'd said goodbye and promised to call each other tomorrow, all unspoken.

"Don't let those beers to go waste," Mark nodded towards the bar where the four beers you'd just paid for still stood, waiting to be drunk.

Oh.

Immediate panic washed over you.

Mark and Poppy were leaving, which meant now you and Joe had four beers to share and... you and Joe had four beers to share.

Mark could've been smug about it. Could've made a face at you to tease, but he hadn't. Had just quickly said to drink the drinks and then turned his full attention to his fiancé who was bumping and leaning into people left, right, and center.

"You got it," Joe wasn't going to let himself be told twice and slid two glasses slightly more towards you before grabbing the other two, one drink in each hand, double fisting. It looked like Joe had also had a few drinks already, which, of course he had. Poppy hadn't been doing tequila shots on her own, you assumed.

Suddenly, your evening with Mark of bitching about Joe from the comfortability of your own sofa in your own flat had turned into an evening in a posh pub with the actual dude himself. Alone. Just the two of you in a sea of suits, button-ups and pencil skirts. The prospect of it was awful.

Who would mind two wasted beers? No one really. Certainly not you, at least. Joe could have all four if he wanted. You were about to come with a dumb excuse, a polite one, to get out of there, but before you could, Joe cleared his throat.

"So," Joe said, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Joe was sort of turned to you, full body language engaged and ready for a chat.

A chat.

With you.

Like normal people.

Like friends.

"Who's going to be your plus one?" Joe asked and immediately busied his mouth as he took a slow sip of beer, peering at you over the glass.

You frowned a little at his question, and then more at the way he looked. All suited up, top buttons of his shirt undone, loafers – he looked like everyone else there, fit right in amongst the office crowd even though you knew very well Joe didn't have an office job. Joe didn't know how to do water-cooler-talk, didn't know how office gossip worked. Why these after-work drinks at the pub were such an important part of working in an office. You did, or had done, but still, Joe fit in with everyone else and it was very clear that you didn't.

It made you feel inferior but also a little rebellious at the same time.

You reached for a drink for yourself, deciding that you actually would mind wasting two beers that you'd paid for and you copied Joe, taking an even slower sip than he did, buying yourself time. If this was going to happen, if you were going to have drinks and be out with Joe, you weren't going to be the first one to back out. You had said you were going to at least try to be friendly, hadn't you? And it seemed like Joe was trying, so now you had to too.

"For the wedding," Joe clarified, like you didn't understand what he originally meant.

You took long to answer, smacked your lips and looked at your glass as you lowered it, saying, "I don't think we get plus ones, Joe,"

It was Joe's turn to frown.

"Of course we do,"

"Don't think so,"

You had the wedding invitation stuck under a magnet on your fridge. Saw it every day. Nowhere did it mention a plus one for you. You assumed later because you'd been asked to be Mark's best man. You'd have actual jobs to do. Bringing a date just to leave him stranded was weird, and so it made sense to you.

"Why wouldn't we?"

Joe hadn't had the same train of thought, it turned out.

"Does your wedding invitation have a plus one on? Because mine doesn't,"

Joe thought back, eyes darting around but not really looking at anything. "I don't... I don't remember word for word exactly what the invitation said–" Joe paused abruptly and looked at you, one corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Well, I do, of course," He didn't, but he didn't need you to know that. "But surely..."

"I think they kind of want us to focus on the jobs we've been given," you said, feeling all smug that you got to tell Joe something he didn't know yet. One-upping Joe felt stupidly good. You were in jeans! In dirty old canvas trainers!

"Oh yea," Joe quipped, and you didn't like how casual that suddenly sounded.

"Like not forgetting the rings,"

And there it was. In a reflex, you lifted your middle finger up at him and immediately realised that Joe could absolutely take full offense. You weren't people who flipped each other off for fun. You said you were to at least try to be friendly, but nothing else had really changed since your meeting over at Joe's house. You weren't suddenly people who were comfortable around each other to be mean in ways you could be mean with Mark, knowing that the bickering was never damaging but more a fun way to get actual frustrations out.

But luckily, Joe gasped a small gasp through a wide smile. No offense taken.

"I thought you said you were nice," the face Joe made almost seemed flirty.

"And you agreed," you threw right back at him. "Even told Pop about it,"

Joe didn't argue, and so you knew you were right. Joe and Poppy had talked about you and Mark.

A pause followed where you weren't sure how to continue the conversation, and the feeling of wanting to abandon the evening all together crept back in. You'd had half a beer, had said some words to each other, so you knew it'd be all right for you to now go, well, I actually have to go get going. But then, something else crossed your mind.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Joe absolutely wasn't expecting the tone switch in you, suddenly sort of serious.

"Have you thought about your speech already?"

You'd briefly mentioned it the other night, your speeches. You'd said that you would just need to make sure that the vague idea of them wouldn't be insanely different from each other. If you were just going to do a a short quick little cute speech, Joe couldn't do an insanely long one that included a whole PowerPoint presentation, or something else insane, like a song. But, you'd very quickly come to the conclusion that neither of you wanted to speak into a microphone for very long.

You wanted your speech to be heartwrenchingly beautiful though. Mark was going to fucking wail at his wedding, you'd absolutely make sure of it.

"I have," Joe said, nodded slowly, and for a second you thought, how the fuck is this guy an actor?! He was obviously lying.

"Okay..." you phrased it like a question, and a short silence followed where you both narrowed your eyes at each other, not fully trusting what wasn't said aloud. Joe was confusing you and you didn't like it.

"But we really don't get plus ones?"

You knew Poppy would have laughed at the way he said it. You didn't. You just shrugged.

"Maybe Poppy doesn't want you to bring a date, just because,"

Oof. Wrong thing to say. Insinuating all kinds of things Joe didn't appreciate, you could see it in the sudden tension in his jaw. It hit almost below the belt. You kind of meant it, though. Had that blown up framed photo of them on your mind still.

"And perhaps Mark doesn't want you to bring one for the same reason,"

You learnt the hard way that dishing it out was far easier than taking it.

That stung, like it always did when people would assume you and Mark were dating, and wouldn't believe it when you said you weren't.

It stung almost extra because you'd just thrown someone a comment you hated getting yourself, and then got it right back like you deserved. The fact that it was from someone who'd probably gotten the comment loads too made you feel even worse about it.

Served you right.

If the air between you hadn't been awkward but maybe sort of pleasant for a second, you missed it.

Slow sips from wet beer glasses were had, and you cursed yourself for not being able to just call it a night already. You were committed to win this now, even though none of this was a contest. Nothing ever was, but you were just like that. Couldn't help wanting to win at everything, especially when it came to petty shit like this. There was no way you were going to leave this pub before Joe did.

It was all awkward comments, feigned naturalness and ease, and when you finished your second beer, you hated how Joe just went and ordered another two. He kept you there and you realised he was onto you. He fucking knew you weren’t going to say no, weren’t going to be the one to back out first. You were too much like Poppy in that way, you thought, and it felt a little vulnerable. Like Joe could read you, could really see right through you, just because he knew Poppy so well.

But with alcohol in your system, you started feeling invincible. Feelings like guilt and regret took a back seat, which was dangerous.

Made you order the next round, just out of sheer spite. And you'd barely eaten - just things like cucumber and carrots with hummus and tzatziki - and started to really feel the effects of it.

Made you smile at a stranger like you shared an inside joke when he bumped into Joe and made him spill some of his drink.

Made you ask stupid questions, like why Joe had a cropped photo of him and Poppy framed in his hallway.

"I don't know if you've fully understood the situation, but I can explain it in simpler words, if you'd like?"

Patronising. Joe spoke to you like you were an idiot.

"I am friends with Poppy, and have been friends with her for a looong time. We're family, and sometimes it's nice to have photographs of family up on your walls. Some people think so, at least,"

So very patronising, it was honestly insulting. He was also missing the point. Didn't understand what you meant. He probably wouldn't, even if you explained it, you thought, so you left it alone.

"It's okay if you don't get it," Joe looked down his glass before adding, "if you don't have that same sort of bond with Mark, I don't expect you to understand," and taking a sip.

Too far.

You were getting too intoxicated to just... take shit like this.

"Oh you wouldn't fucking know what friendship was if it stared you right in the face," you challenged.

For a second tonight had been about proving to each other that your friendship with you best friends didn't cross any inappropriate boundaries. Now, however, it was suddenly all about proving to Joe that your friendship with Mark outweighed his friendship with Poppy.

Joe had no fucking idea how bonded you and Mark were.

How you'd gone through absolutely shit in your teens, and how Mark had managed to haul you through, pulling you out at the other end with a lot less scars than you'd imagined beforehand.

How you'd spent years not thinking you'd live past your teens, battered and bruised from trusting people you were told time and time again you could trust. Had to trust. But should've never trusted. How Mark was the one who'd held out a friendly hand and had proven to you time and time again that men sometimes didn't want all the things you weren't ready to give. Weren't willing to hand over.

How Mark had fixed parts of you which you'd redeemed unfixable until he'd gotten all up in there.

How Mark was solely responsible for your strong belief in the power of kindness. The power of true friendship. The platonic soulmates type of shit.

Joe had no fucking idea. And so you told him again, "You wouldn't even fucking recognise it,"

Joe was about to fight you on it, but he felt something had shifted. Saw something in your expression, in your eyes, that made him swallow his words whole.

Joe saw something that made him believe you on your word. Maybe his friendship with Poppy was a small tiny thing in comparison.

"I'm sorry," Joe's features softened immediately upon the sight of you, and it was all kinds of wrong.

Somehow everything felt unfair all of the sudden.

You needed to leave.

Needed to be polite and thank Joe for the lovely evening all sarcastically and leave without a good excuse to do so. Just, get out.

Away from Joe who didn't understand. Who made fun. Who judged. And who was he to fucking talk?

When you hurridly turned, intending to run, Joe gently reached and touched your upper arm. Strong fingers, but somehow a soft touch.

"I need to leave," you said, and without saying anything else, Joe let you go and let you walk out.

No questions asked.

No goodbye from either of you.

—

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[baileythebean]

Vent below the cut so HUUUUGE trigger warning.

So usually I vent in my dad’s (Anomaly’s) DMs because he’s great at comforting me, but Im too pissed for this right now and I dont want to bother him. I swear I am so fucking close to actually killing myself, it’s scary.

My mom has an aversion to me ever binding. I am transmasc (FtM), and I am out to my parents. My mom claims to be a “good”, “supportive” mom, and I do occasionally have moments where I’m like “oh yeah, she’s making progress, she’s learning! :)” and then it’s always fucking ruined by saying things like “well Bailey is your nickname, your name is [deadname].” - “well you’re still biologically female.” - lots of bullshit little jabs at me whenever I ACTUALLY get brave enough to talk about my identity, which is rarely. Unfortunately, any chances of me getting a binder were ruined when I just asked her flat-out. I said it was for cosplay, just to play it safe, and it was still a hard no because “It destroys your body!” - “You wont develop properly!” - “You’ll regret it!” Along with several long rants about ALL the research she’s done, (probably barely any, and it was most likely on social media) and all the stories she’s heard about people who regretted surgery or just transitioning in general and had lawsuits for them, which is like, very low. The regret rate for transitioning is in the DECIMALS and yet she refuses to acknowledge that. We also have a history with suicide, as that’s how my dad left us, and yet she either hasn’t seen or doesnt care about trans suicide rates BECAUSE of being denied affirming care or harassment?? Anyways, here’s where my shit show of a story starts. I managed to get by fine with layering sports bras for a while and just not wearing anything tight-fitting. I figured she’d warm up to it eventually. But recently, I got a new cosplay (Venti from Genshin Impact) which involves a corset, and even if I layer or adjust the shirt, makes my chest look very weird if I dont bind. I started feeling more dysphoria than ever in my life and made a plan to get a binder before my first time wearing the costume. Said plan succeeded, and I had my friend get me the right sized binder at a birthday party one day through a queer kids program that offered them for free. I was so happy and started wearing it to get used to it and break it in since that day. Unfortunately, today I made the mistake of leaving it on my bed visibly.

My mom also has a terrible habit of going into my room and my spaces to clean, even though I usually do it myself anyway, and I LITERALLY FUCKING TELL HER NOT TO EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I dont want her touching my stuff EVER, not just when I’m trying to keep something from her. I told her to stop and she kept picking up trash, and she spotted it. She questioned me about it, and I caved, telling her what it is, how its been considered medically safe, and reciting like, ALL the safety instructions from the top of my head, hoping it would give me a chance at keeping it. I failed. I got yelled at for destroying my body, ETC ETC. finally, she says that she needs to keep my binder in her room so she can make sure I ONLY use it for cosplay and I’m pretty sure she’ll check if I’m wearing it every day.

Then this bitch PUTS MY BINDER ON and tells me it’s too tight. First, it’s supposed to be. Second, THATS NOT YOUR SIZE. I’m sobbing my eyes out right now, and the only thing keeping me alive is my boyfriend, and a literal fictional character. I want to tear my flesh from my bones when she tells me that puberty sucks for everyone, and she doesnt get the fact that it’s a million times worse for me because I’M A BOY. I’ll be lucky if I make it to the end of the year. I’m just done. I want it to be over. Someone come and end it for me, please. I cant take any more.

[verm1c1de]

-tosses this in your ask box- ,,hi

VERM FUCKING SWEEEP BAYBEEEEE WE NEFUR LOSE!!!!!!!!!

look at them being all stupid. sniffin. u wont learn anything ourp ofur than he SMEALLS!!!!! not good. smells like dirt!

next i imagine red is going to start stacking juiceboxes on his huuuuge head. would not b hard. its purretty big

[swampstew]

Captain_CumShot

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: Eustass Kid finalized his OnlyFans account - let's hope it doesn't get reported again.

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

A digital illustration of ocean waves and a menacing looking ship sailing the waters graced the banner of the OnlyFans account, layered with a deep red, blood-stained filter over the art. Right under the seafaring artwork in bold letters spelled out Captain_CumShot, the owner of the account. A partially faded jolly roger was pinned behind the account name, as if to add to the mischievous vibe of the page.

The circular profile photo was a zoomed in snapshot of the Captain’s face. He looked dangerous – a pair of worn, welding goggles pushed back his long red hair, a red-painted, wide-mouth grin with his tongue poking between his teeth, and sharp golden eyes pierced anyone who looked upon the photo with a sly look. A long, narrow nose centered on his face, shaved eyebrows, two long scars over his left eye, and an anti-eyebrow piercing on the side of his right cheekbone accentuated his devilishly handsome face. Was the dark, liquid-like substance that stained his face blood or something naughtier? His location placed him in the great State of Desire.

Captain_CumShot’s profile page was expertly put together. The first thing one would notice was his About Me poster. Another photo of the undeniably sexy face graced the cover, this time in the middle of being splattered by a viscous looking liquid; it had the same blood-stained filter layered over it like the profile banner. The subtitle under the photo read: No Discounts - Only thirsty bitches willing to pay get to have a sip.

He had a message for his readers –

“Hiya dolls. This is the one and only page for Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid, the kind of guy all your parents warned you to stay away from. I’m terrible, toxic, and plain fucking awful for your frail little hearts, and I know that just makes you want me more. Unfortunately for you, I’m untouchable. Fret not, little dolls. Just because you can’t have a taste doesn’t mean I’ll leave you hanging. I’m nothing if not a huuuuge tease, with a huuuuuuuuge cock to back it up. Have a little morsel that I was decent enough to leave for you👇🏻 If you’re brave enough, subscribe to my page and I’ll show you the deepest, darkest pleasures that you’ve never known.”

A video with a thumbnail was below the message. From what wasn’t censored, one could see his luscious red locks falling backwards as he hung his head back, face screwed shut in the throes of pleasure.

*Press Play?*

The focal point of the camera was blurred as the massive, redhaired beast of a man stepped away from the device, allowing it to focus on its subject and present him in the highest quality. He was wearing compressed underwear and nothing more. A pile of abandoned gym clothes kicked away in a bundle off to the side of the incline bench press he stood next to as he flexed for the camera. Bulging muscles on every inch of him as he twisted and turned, all the while sneering at the camera as if to say, don’t you wish you could crawl through the screen to touch me.

He pulled off the headband from his forehead and shook his sweat-slicked hair, little droplets of perspiration reflected off the lighting in the room. An indoor gym – it must have been a personal, in-home gym or the man truly gave no fucks who saw him as he proudly began stroking his hardening cock through the dark underwear.

Using thick, red painted fingers, he bobbed his large bulge until it strained against the fabric. His balls gently jiggled behind the underwear the more he played with his cock.

“Alright, I’ll stop fuckin with ya,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “You came all this way for some dick, least I can do is show ya what you’re gonna be payin’ for. It’s worth it, you’ll see.”

A small pop-up with a reminder to subscribe to his account showed before disappearing again after two seconds.

Captain_CumShot pulled his underwear off and stepped closer to the camera. His cock was beautiful. Long and thick, adorned with veins running from base to just below his tip. Engorged head redder than the rest of his shaft, the light reflected off the bead of precum that was threatening to spill out of his slit. Neatly trimmed red hair, darker than the hair on his head framed his shaft.

“Like what you see? You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he growled through his sneer, putting his headband back on before spitting in his flesh hand, returning it to his cock.

Slow, teasing strokes up and down his member, his hips buckled slightly as he tightened his grip around the head. Using his thumb, he ran the digit around the swollen tip, smearing precum down the rest of his cock before using two fingers to gently pull his sack, letting out a low groan as he let his eyes close.

“I want you to imagine,” he rasped, “You’re against this bench. And I’m gonna fuck you raw on it,” he grinned.

Turning his body to the bench press, he stood with the seated section between his legs as he pressed his cock against the smooth, black backseat. Then he started grinding against it.

He gripped the top of the bench press with his metal prosthetic, propping his flesh hand behind his back to provide a better view of his inappropriate use of the gym equipment.

“Imagine my heavy cock sliding against your warm, wet center,” he teased, hips snapping sharply. “Hitting against your most sensitive areas, making you writhe and cream against me, all before I even stuff it inside,” he cackled.

He hung his head back and let out a moan, slowing his motions in exchange for short, lazy snaps. Pulling back just enough to let his cock bob freely, a line of precum clinging to his tip and the bench.

“Mmmm, I normally go for much longer but this is a so-called teaser to draw you in to subscribe. Keep that in mind when you think of me when you’re alone. Or maybe when you’re out in public, I like kinky sluts like that.”

Moving the camera stand closer to the bench press, Eustass Kid moved back to his starting position and pace on the equipment. He spit in his hand again and coated his cock before he slapped it against the material of the bench, putting all his body weight against his cock as he grinded against it once more. Shoulder muscles tightened under his alabaster skin as he used both arms to steady himself, the camera’s titled angle allowed for a delicious view of his panting face, his flexing muscles, and on his pulsing cock as he shamelessly rut on the bench. Moaning loudly as he brought himself closer.

“Wh-where, where would you want me, I wonder,” his long tongue between his grit teeth as he panted. “I know my loyal cabin hoes would let me finish inside,” he winked. “Ah ah! Fu-fuck!” escaped from him as he let out a few final thrusts.

The tip of his cock turned a dark shade of red as all his blood pooled. Twitching, he let out ropes of thick, gooey cum that smeared and ran down the angles incline. White streaks sliding down around his cock as he lazily thrusted as he rode out his orgasm.

“Hnnghh, fuck yeah,” he breathed. “That’s just the first round. I have a lot of stamina. Vids are short for upload reasons but if you want, long, torturous, and sinful content, make sure you subscribe to gain access to my live streams. You’ll be creaming your pants and begging me for more. Check out the tiers, the bonuses, and my wishlist. The more you thirsty whores pay me, the nastier I’ll get. See ya inside,” he winked again, blowing the camera a kiss as he slapped his cock against the bench press before a still frame of his prices took over the screen.

Captain_CumShot’s Main Menu:

Tier I – Deck Swabber – access to content 1 month prior to subscribing, access to videos and cumshot photo gallery.

Tier II – Sea Wenches – all treats in the first tier, plus access to professional pin-up photo gallery, access to content 2 months prior to subscribing, and access to live streams.

Tier III – Cabin Hoes – all treats in the first two tiers, plus sexting (messaging only), a lewd monthly calendar template, access to all published content prior to subscribing, and personally catered 60-second degradation videos.

Pay me or buy me shit off my wishlist and I’ll let you see my menu of forbidden treasures. More add-ons, services, treats, and surprises only for loyal hoes inside.

It lasted for 20 seconds before the video continued on for the last 15 seconds. The camera zoomed in on the cumshot on the bench press. A thick, white puddle pooled on the sitting section as it dripped from the risen back section. The camera showed off the streaks of viscous, opaque lines that ran down from the angled section from where his seed had initially hit. The camera’s view went back to the puddle, where a red nail dipped into the thick of it, dragging his essence downwards until the video ended.

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Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[fayes-fics]

hi nonny!!

HUUUUGE congrats on the milestone you totally deserve it

can you do like a bit angsty they’ve missed each other sex with “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.” for Anthony?

i love all your work, but especially anthony

Anthony + My tongue still remembers the way you taste

March 2023 Mini Drabbles Masterpost

Hi Nonny!

Thank you so much. You are so kind. 🫶

I hope this is angsty enough for you. Its certainly desperate to be reunited sex, I think (I hope lol) 😁🧡

You rasp his name and cling desperately to his shoulders as he picks you up from the steps of Aubrey Hall and sweeps you through the doors, uncaring of the audience you have in the rest of his family.

“My darling, I have missed you so very much,” he asserts hotly as he ascends the stairs.

He has been away for far too long, far too many weeks away, as he travelled to Prussia, dispatched by the Queen herself on the top secret errand. It's the longest you have ever been apart, and every cell of your being aches for him.

“I could barely stand to be away from you. It was torture. My tongue still remembers the way you taste,” he murmurs desperately into your ear as he carries you into your bedroom and slams the door behind you both with his foot.

His name is a moan on your lips as he places you on the bed and crawls over you. You pull desperately at his clothes, wanting his skin on yours, craving his fingers so harsh on your hips they leave bruises, fucking you so hard your bed squeaks.

“Don't be gentle, please I need you now. Fuck me, Anthony,” your voice teeming with desperation. 

“I will, darling, I will,” he promises, fighting his clothing off and ripping your dress asunder with a groan.

Your clothes are in tatters around both of your bodies as he surges into you, filling you in a way that makes you scream and your toes curl hard. You had almost forgotten how all-encompassing it feels when he invades your body. Your nails scrap down his back, under the jacket that is still haphazardly half on his back.

“Oh god, yes, Anthony, don't stop, please,” you plead, your voice almost broken with need.

“I don't plan to, darling; I want to be buried inside your body for the rest of the week,” he groans and proceeds to pound into you so hard you can't help your loud cries that you are sure are echoing down the hallway. You probably won't be able to look the rest of the Bridgertons in the eye around the dinner table tomorrow, but you can't find it in yourself to care right at this very moment.

[rikebe]

thoughts on x men evolution kurt?

i LOOOOVE evo kurt!!! i have a huge soft spot for evo in general (i love love love any animated version of the xmen and evo is so silly and whacky i cant help but adore it) and i think kurt is sooo adorable in that show.

i love how this version of kurt leans wayyy more into his mischevieous and silly pranky side than most other adaptations and i really appreciate that. i feel like its such an underutilized and underrepresented aspect of his character that it even kinda gets tossed to the wayside in the comics half the time, but it's one of the things that makes him such a fun, three-dimensional character. i think its awesome that evo chose to go with that side of him when other adaptations focus more on his melancholy, somber side (which i also love of course! but its not all there is to him!)

im also a huuuuge sucker for little brother and comic relief characters in general (bobby's always been my fave o5) and kurt rly kinda takes on his role of the silly team baby in evo. i adore a silly team baby. plus, kurt is ACTUALLY the youngest of three siblings in canon, so i can totally see him being the annoying kid brother who tags along with amanda and stephan and gets on their nerves.

i liked the more serious plot they did for him too with the whole thing with mystique. ill never get tired of that storyline i wont lie and i think evo manages to strike a good balance where kurt is funny and comedic relief, but you still care about him and when he has a more serious moment it works.

although i think he CAN be a little overexaggerated with his teen speak, i like to imagine that's due to his status as a non-native speaker so he awkwardly overuses slang to try and fit in. I gotta say that I think most of the time Kurt being a teen from germany coming to america is treated kinda weird (see: the reboot movies acting as if kurt doesnt know what a movie or a store is. like guys hes from berlin in the 80ies. hes not from fucking dorf schragensdiek mid-14th century he probably has done way wilder shit than suburban teen scott summers.) so i like to make up my own headcanons to make it make sense a little lmao. also as a german: we think american/english sayings are super funny and like repeating them as germanly as possible. its like a nationwide sport so kurt doing it for funsies would also be totally reasonable.

overall i tend to take a lot of inspiration from evo for my version of a teen kurt bc the way he's characterized could totally be a super young and immature version of the sweet calm fuzzy guy we all know n love. hes silly and pranky and kind of annoying, but he's also really caring and the way his relationship with kitty evolved from a silly crush to genuine friendship was SO sweet. i love when kurt is shown that way, flirty but ultimately completely unselfish when his affections aren't returned and totally glad to just be friends with someone he had a crush on. i do think it's really lame how he uses the image inducer all the time since kurt NOT using the inducer anymore is such a big part of his character arc, and him using it at HOME all the time too is really weird but... well, whatever. in total one hell of a lovable, great kurt.

plus his design is super cute. how can you not love that 90ies boyband middlepart??

[vang0bus]

huuuuge fan of how my family just all think im a lazy fuck because im in bed a lot. yeah couldnt be because i have a chronic illness and one of the main symptoms is fatigue. couldnt also be because that same chronic illness means my body gets all fucked up when i stand up so its easier for me to be sitting or lying down. i definitely just dont want to do anything ever