#Plumbing services Around You | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clairdelunelove · 1 year ago

Text

around the clock

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (working drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, handyman!ghost

synopsis: ghost finds comfort in always being busy, whether that'd be completing household maintenance or chores but what does he do when there's nothing else to fix? well, it's simple, he goes over to your place–

a.n. hi lovelies! life's been picking up BUT it's finally spooky season! 🕷 pls take handyman!ghost to compensate for the fact that I dropped off the face of the earth for a bit <3

ghost would definitely have the characteristics of being a handyman– specifically, yours.

paid leave was a valuable but rare benefit that many military personnel took advantage of. traveling, relaxing, or staying with family were typically on the itinerary for most. to catch up on lost time. to ground and comfort them with the humanity that they might’ve forgotten about while on the battlefield. a solace for their minds, souls, and hearts to rest. service members could request leave at any time, fortunately, but ghost never had a reason to. he found comfort in being constantly busy. proved to be less on the mind. an escape from the pain that frequents him whenever he opens his eyes and follows him into his sleepless nights. he recalls price mentioning his unhealthy coping mechanism– the word ‘escapism’ leaving his lips in a sympathetic grimace. a sensitive emotion that reached the captain’s eyes and caused ghost to uncomfortably shuffle on his feet. he wouldn’t label it as ‘escapism,’ per se, just favors his hectic life. so when he chooses is forced to take his paid leave, ghost keeps himself active; repairing his plumbing system, fixing broken light fixtures, or testing any of his home appliances to ensure they’re working properly. he’s continually restless. likes strenuous and taxing work. makes it easier to fall asleep at the end of the day. and, by the off chance there’s absolutely nothing left to maintain in his compact flat (because a couple bare rooms, small porch, and no backyard is hardly a feat to clean), he’ll sit on his threadbare couch. might tap his fingers against his thigh while the living room clock obnoxiously ticks. the silence is deafening, ironically. his heavy-set eyes float to glance at the time and upon noticing this is the predicament he’ll be in for a couple more weeks, he abruptly gets up, pockets his keys, and makes his way to you.

ghost who stiffly stands at your front door when you answer the familiar knock. frankly, you’ve noticed the way he knocks on your door is strikingly different than how he does on missions. a strong rap but not powerful enough to scare you. it’s a sign that’s irrevocably him. served as an indication of his presence. it was up to you whether you wished to entertain his trivial inquiries. you peep your head out first, not quite believing the sight before you, and he raises a brow at your widened eyes. “simon?” you ask incredulously. his plain balaclava shifts when he catches how you intuitively open the door wider for him. to make room for him in your home. “remembered you asked about patchin’ and paintin’ your walls,” he explains like it’s ordinary to recall a conversation from weeks ago. astonishingly, he was right. you had, offhandedly, mentioned that you nailed picture frames to the wall which created noticeable holes that you didn’t know how to fix. you reminisce at how he held back an amused scoff when you emphasized that it was an honest mistake on your part. didn’t entirely think it likely that he’d personally fix it. “oh,” you glance at the rather large toolbox in his hand as your voice trails off, “like, you want to fix it right now?” he offers a singular nod as a response.

ghost who’s a second away from packing up his home repair tools/gadgets and heading back home when you glance behind you to stare at your place in contemplation. your lower lip caught in-between your teeth. he hesitates. isn’t accustomed to the sensation even when he has a weapon in his grasp. his mind whirs. the green-eyed monster of jealousy bleeding its way into his heart. “unless,” he dreads the words before they leave his lips, “you have a bloke to help ya with it?” his words are stiff. ghost shifts to lean against your doorframe in an attempt to ease off the bitterness in his voice. drawn to the movement, you can’t help but become aware of how he fills the entire entryway with his physique. your cheeks burn. a quick shake of your head followed by a resounding, “no, I don’t and I haven’t called a handyman either.” and it’s the perfect remedy to quell his discontent. his rigid posture loosens with the answer. while you step to the side to welcome him in, you hurriedly clarify with an awkward laugh, “had to think for a bit because I didn’t want you to see how much of a slob I am,” and hope that the joke lands. the universally polite comment to excuse the untidiness. ghost isn’t focused on the clutter, however. he’s basking in the fact that you’re not seeing anyone. offhandedly throws in a murmur of, “not a problem, sweetheart,” when he eases by you. and the way it borders raspy satisfaction reduces you to a puddle.

ghost who allows his gaze to wander to your decorated walls and dainty furniture while you explain where the tactless gaps in the walls were at. picture frames encasing friends and family were thoughtfully tacked onto the walls. trinkets lined the shelves to serve as memoirs. he stops himself from reaching up and picking one up for closer inspection. wouldn’t be fair if he did. truth be told, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d put up a photograph in his own flat. his loved ones and comrades stayed etched in his mind. recurrent and persistent. your place, on the other hand, seems well-inhabited, lived-in, and loved. he could almost spot the glow that you managed to sprinkle everywhere you went regardless of the situation. a feature that endlessly puzzled him. the addictive familiarity that accompanied you and made every place feel like home. ghost likes it. it’s comfy and cozy– you. and his mind slips into the possibility of adding a few pieces of him in your home. his work boots at the front door. his toothbrush residing beside yours in the bathroom. his shirt in your closet. “need any tools to help fix the damage I made?” your witticism forces him out of his train of thought. halts the delusion from straying too far. he’s quick to recover, however, and murmurs, “got everythin’ I need here,” while his eyes are solely fixed on you. a declaration that’s spoken as profound as a pass of thunder. and you wait with bated breath, mind whirring to reciprocate the sentiment but ghost is already trekking past you. he gets to work almost immediately by using a putty knife and a joint compound to patch up the holes in the walls. but goodness– his eyes. the raw dedication that manifests and bleeds out when he glances over to you. his words are a certainty that he grasps onto.

ghost who, unsurprisingly, fixes the blunders in the walls with ease. it’s a minor task that’s covered with a gentle hand and some paint. nothing that he can’t fix. but truthfully, the afternoon passes far quicker than usual. with fleeting smiles and stolen glances whenever his focus shifted to you. it was spotting your figure, halfway hidden behind the kitchen entryway, from the corner of his eyes. it was finding you tampering with his tools whenever his back was turned and hearing your soft laughter when he halfheartedly chided your roaming hands. a serenity disguised as a luxury that ghost could never afford. “want to hear a construction joke?” your voice fills the house; he prefers it that way. yet, your inquiry falls flat because he’s short-circuiting. with a hand on his shoulder, you lean forward to inspect the spot that he’s working on. forces the two of you closer. your breath is a hot puff against the shell of his ear and he visibly pauses. you’re warm. he turns his head sideways, purposefully staring ahead, and decides to indulge you, “sure.” “hm,” you hum and the pleasant noise goes straight through him, “I’m still working on it.” and when you’re rewarded with an amused huff from his lips due to the punchline, a grin stretches across your face. it’s a meager detail that he imagines as he trudged back (with heavy feet) to his bare flat later that evening. yet, it’s the only solace that allows him to sleep a little easier that night.

ghost who questions his rationale when he’s hauling his lawnmower and other tools onto the back of his pickup truck just for you. well, he supposes you never did ask him to mow your lawn but your front yard is in need of his care. his personal touch. afterall there were various benefits of keeping a lawn clean and tidy. encourages new grass growth and deters pests– or so he justifies. surely it’s not due to the appreciative smile you throw him when you tug your curtains back to find him trimming the edge of the grass. he hears the click of the window opening before your voice calls out to him, “you didn’t need to, si!” but ghost has never given half an effort to seek your favor. lives his life in extremes. so he spares you a glance while genuine words leak from his mouth that he attempts to mask in his surly voice, “jus’ wanted to.” and hastily wretches the starter cord on the lawnmower so it roars to life. pretends not to catch onto your longing stares when the sun’s rays are scorching and he’s compelled to shed a couple layers off. sure, you had tasks at hand rather than blatantly gawking but it could wait. and he didn’t particularly mind the attention. especially when you’re seated by the window so prettily with your face perched atop your hand. admiration pooling in your wide eyes. you watch with bated breath as he one-handedly tugs off his bulky sweater to reveal a fitted black shirt and dirty jeans. a combination that has you visibly gulping as he continues pushing the machine across the lawn. he’s a tantalizing brew of brawn and power. a darkness that you wish to traverse upon. satiates you with a knowing look when he stretches and the fabric of his shirt is pulled taunt across his broad chest. and he huffs in delight when you hurriedly reach out to yank the curtains closed.

ghost who picks you flowers (weeds) but doesn’t know the difference. he ends up discovering a clump of golden dandelions growing near the edge of your fence and decided to pluck them. pinches the stems in between his fingers until it breaks. ends up harvesting a handful of them. the question is: what does he do with them? he saunters over to your front door, raps his knuckles against it, and patiently waits for you to answer. of course. then, he hands the dandelions to you, unblinking but brimming with good intentions. because he’s not aware that dandelions are the most notorious weeds that many desire to get rid of. just acknowledges that they’re pretty and you’re pretty– so it only makes sense. another gift for you. anything for you. he watches as you absentmindedly twirl the stems in your grasp, speechless. and, without warning, he’s flushed for a reason far beyond just the weather. a terrible queasiness that was unlike any he’s experienced. his mannerisms are fidgety, mind itching to leave, and save him the humiliation of offering you weeds. but then your lips break into a wide smile. a dazzling one. knocks the breath out of his lungs. you’re uttering repeated ‘thank you’s’ though, clearly too distracted to notice his predicament, before scurrying into your kitchen. he’s left stunned while you call out, “how did you know I have a pretty vase to match with these?”

ghost who’s knocking at your door in the early mornings, greets you with a gruff, “mornin’,” and slinks past you into your home. doesn’t even pause despite the fact that it’s barely the crack of dawn and the sky is still hazy from the remnants of last night. the birds are barely tweeting out to each other, still testing to find a harmony to start the day. you’re as bright as the sun, however, when he offers a glance to you. an expression of stupor and excitement conveyed on your face due to his arrival. he’s stopped by a couple times now yet the warm buzz never dims: if anything, it flourishes like the row of flowers he planted on your front porch. vibrant and all-consuming. “still finding stuff to fix, si?” you joke while tilting your head. you stop him by the kitchen counter just as he’s about to state that everything looks maintained for now. “‘course,” he rumbles as his gaze sweeps to you, “soon you won’t need me though.” his statement is heavier than he expected and he opens his mouth to thwart the abrupt negativity but you beat him to it. the words tumble from your lips, “pretty sure I can always find something here that needs to be fixed.” your voice is soft as you add, “just as long as you want to stay.” he watches as your eyes flicker to the floor but it’s too late. ghost has already seen the tenderness that belongs wholly to him. your vulnerability that he wishes to cradle in his grasp. his hands clasp and unclasp by his sides before he finally mentions, “your fence needs fixin’ today. don’t want the strays comin’ in and fuckin tramplin’ on everything.”

ghost who’s true to his word and tirelessly works to replace your fence posts even in the scorching heat. scratches the back of his neck while muttering something about how they’re rotted on the bottom. and it’s almost hypnotizing to observe how he works. methodically checking each panel’s angle to see how severe it is. he detaches the surrounding pickets and stringers from each post in order to pull the wooden planks out. it’s demanding manual labor, more exhausting than his previous projects, which is why he requests your help. “just need ya to hold these up for me and I’ll straighten out the rest. can you do that for me, pup?” he explains as he hands you a singular fence post. and you try– you really do since he asked so nicely– but the wood is coarse against your fingertips and the sweltering sun hits the nape of your neck too harshly. you huff, voice bordering a whine, “I can’t do this anymore, si.” and ghost, the saint he secretly is, just raises his head to peer up at you. he’s currently on his knees, denim jeans caked in dirt, and dripping with enough sweat that the edges of balaclava curl at the edges to expose slivers of pale skin. “be good for me, will ya?” an inquiry that sounds more like a command due to his thick accent. his dark eyes search for yours, squinting in the sun’s rays, before he goes back to digging around the base of the fence post. however, when even the rare sight of his bare skin does little to serve as a reward against the extreme heat, you’re pouting again, “can’t we do this another day–” “oi,” he interrupts you when his large hand blindly reaches back to clamp over your knee. his thumb moves to caress the inner portion of your knee and you can vaguely discern how each of his fingers press against your skin. featherlight touches that sear your skin. his gaze snaps to yours, a dark brow arching at your unwillingness to move. the next demand leaves his lips in a low, tempting voice, “behave.”

ghost who’s a sucker for your large, beseeching eyes and only shakes his head when you prance back into your house. you’re humming a light tune when you skip up the steps, away from the harsh weather, and leaving him to continue angling fence posts alone. it’d be a crime for him to deny your wish. and it’s not like he bends to your every whim. sometimes. he huffs, half in amusement and half in disbelief, before hauling another slab of wood. it’s not like the task was terribly difficult. he’s proficient– a machine that rather enjoys ruthless duties. just assumes that teamwork would lessen the strenuous work. and having your company was always pleasant. he’s in the act of lifting another fence post when he spots you bounding towards him, a glass cup in your hands, and a radiant grin on your face. his heart flips. pounds against his chest like a sledgehammer beating against fragile wood. “made some lemonade,” you offer and raise the glass to him, “for the hard worker.” notices the hesitant tremble in your fingers and your sudden shyness compels him to inwardly crumble. like you weren’t already the cause of his peace. there’s a swirly straw and a decorative umbrella in the drink which catches his attention. calloused fingers skimming the edge of the vibrant garnish, he’s silent. has never gotten this treatment from another person. it's foreign to him but not unwanted. his eyes are unblinking, caught in a trance, before he’s murmuring honest appreciation for your generosity.

ghost who prods, a bit of humor in his voice, as he sips at the beverage, “a bit sweet, yeah?” coerces himself to ease the smirk that threatens to overtake his face when he recognizes how your eyes widen in alarm. recognizes the panic that spreads within you when you quickly suggest, “is it? let me try.” and he’s more than happy to comply. wordlessly edges the straw between your glossy lips so you can take a sip. half-lidded eyes trained on how your lips curl around the straw, an action that serves as his newest vice. one that he’s certain will take ages to treat. constant time that’d be spent with you. always you. “you’re right. it’s kinda too sweet,” you naively remark, flicking your eyes up at him. you’re so sweet to him– soft voice and all. he’s not looking at you, however. no, ghost lifts the straw to take another sip and as he pulls away, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. to chase after the taste of you. memorizing it. saccharine and gloss. a primal act that has you aching for more. “m’fault then,” his amused voice was snuffed by his blank expression as he gently gripped your jaw. you watch as he slowly blinks, blond lashes sweeping against his cheek, and lowly hums, “forgot I like sweet things.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

1K notes · View notes

borathae · 1 month ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 28 - Sounding]

Pairing: Good Boy!Yoongi x Mommy Hard Dom!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

Kinks: very intense and deep subspace, he is a subby and devoted masochist, hints of enjoying rather rough free use, primal play cause she roughs him up a little and calls him “her prey” hihi, she presses him against the front door and touches him, choking, he also later chokes himself, hair pulling, thigh riding, some very mild CBT with her knee, needy and sloppy making out, she leads him to the bedroom by his tie, oh yeah he is wearing a suit, needy stripping, use of a sensitivity cream, use of a prostate vibrator, male anal play, sounding of his leaky cock, he experiences very intense pleasure, use of a vibrator against the sound, full body squirting orgasms <3, subby boy tears, dirty talk, praise, I just gotta say it again he is in very deep subspace, this is my service Dom dream oh lord, loving aftercare, they’re kinky & in love <3

Wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: click this !nsfw! link if you wanna get a visual. like, i don’t think you guys understand. i’m fucking obsessed with this kink jdfja confession time, i never did it in real life but it looks so fun and i need to do this to a willing subby boy omfg oh lord what the fuckckkckc i need to touch some grass lmaooa

Yoongi in a suit is to die for. Yoongi in a suit tight enough to show off his strong chest and big butt is your official end.

So when he comes home that night, exhausted from an award show and happy to be back with you, you can barely keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi manages to place the keys down on the dresser and he already has you around him, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

“Hey there superstar, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You give him a little nibble, grabbing his butt unapologetically.

“Oh”, he gasps, tensing up. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure it’s still there.”

He laughs, looking into your eyes deeply. He is amused by you and enjoys what you are doing, it’s obvious in his look.

“Last time I checked, it was still there. Yeah.”

“Mhm, it is. Mhhhhm it really is”, you coo, rubbing his buttocks unapologetically while you press your chest against his’. You slide your grabby hands between his legs and squeeze.

Yoongi squeaks in surprise, getting on his tiptoes and widening his eyes. He even grabs your shoulders, looking completely disoriented for a second.

“That seems to be still there as well. Mhhm how heavy and warm, my darling”, you rasp, massaging his balls rather disrespectfully. He is wearing very tight briefs in order not to have a weird bulging accident in public. They are very tight and very thin and keep his plumb balls right where they’re supposed to be and oh lord, how easy it is to grab them like this.

Yoongi’s knees buckle slightly, his eyelids flutter for just a second.

“Okay, can we- Ahm, ah, ___ this isn’t my butt”, he gets out.

“I’m aware”, you say matter-of-factly and grab his waist, using his moment of total surprise to twirl him and press him against the door.

Yoongi both squeaks and moans, head hitting the wood against his will as you practically keep him hostage.

“Tell me to leave you alone”, you rasp and Yoongi knows that this is you asking for his consent.

“Please don’t leave me alone”, he begs, giving you everything you needed to know.

You hook your hands in the collar of his suit jacket, ripping it off his body like this. His weakened arms flail for a few moments before you have them pinned against the door.

“Holy fuck Yoongi, you ripped your vest”, you gasp, staring at the ruined fabric of his suit vest.

“My back was too big, I-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you practically steal his breath away by pulling him into a kiss by his hair. His head is tilted back like this, his back is arched.

A tremor of shock and pleasure runs through his entire body, his hands desperately reach behind him to grab your wrists. You tug rather harshly on his hair and his poor little heart can only take that much before it implodes. It also isn’t helpful that you have your knee lifted between his legs, applying rather painful pressure on his cock and balls.

He whines into the kisses, throat working oh so hard to swallow all the drool he suddenly produces.

He had a very stressful and long day. The award show was filled with exhausting social interactions, tiring speeches and way too many noises. There was also his constant need to look presentable in fear of being filmed in an unflattering moment and the constant pressure not to do something that could later be regarded as a “scandal”. Yes, that even includes normal human functions like letting out a little yawn or accidentally zoning out on someone’s face. Truly, his day was long and exhausting and he was so excited to come home to you and be himself again.

He didn’t expect such a greeting and quite frankly, it is way too powerful for him. His toes give up on him, forcing him to sit down on your knee and therefore increase the pressure on his balls. The kiss breaks because he lets out a pained moan.

You eat it up with a hungry growl, digging your hand deeper into his luscious locks. Your other hand slides to his waist, bruising it slightly as you begin guiding his body over your thigh.

“Wait please”, he gets out, collapsing into the door, “wait.” His eyes are squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed, “Mommy, wait.”

“How do you expect me to wait when you call me like this? I had to watch you be pretty on stage and I couldn’t do anything about it. Don’t deny me my right to claim you.”

Playing rough is what works for you and him. In the earlier stages of your relationship, when you and he got to know each other’s kinks, you had a long and thorough talk about your dos and don’ts. Playing rough and using the other “whenever” is something you discovered to both like. Honestly, you feel like Yoongi secretly likes it even more than you. He might be whining right now, but his body speaks a different language. He bends and arches it into the most unnatural positions just to get closer to you. His cock is so swollen in his slacks and his balls so plumb against your knee. He gets off on this.

He gets off on the thought that you were practically waiting for him to come home, that he is so desirable to you that you can’t control yourself anymore, that everything you need is him. Yoongi would never admit it, but he loves being desired to the point where you are almost animalistic with him. Sometimes he does something solely to catch your attention and when you react in uncontrollable desire to touch him, Yoongi feels high. A true rush of pleasure however are the moments where he wasn’t trying and you still end up needing him. When those disrespectful, horny touches start, when you are rough with him, when you almost seem to hunt him like prey, Yoongi could honestly climax just from that.

It turns him on so much.

“Mhm Yoongi? Tell me why I should wait”, you stress, digging your fingertips into the back of his neck.

“I don’t know”, Yoongi whines, tilting his head back.

“You don’t know. That’s too bad then”, you hiss, giving him a rough shove.

Yoongi stumbles, arching his back. He mewls, reaching behind himself to pull you into a kiss. You gladly let it happen, shoving your tongue into his mouth and grabbing his chin to keep him pinned. He has to crane his neck like this, feeling his blood pound in his dizzy head. Your grip is so territorial, your kiss so hungry. Yoongi feels like a well-desired price being taken no matter what.

He turns in your possessive hold, hooking his arms behind your head and letting you kiss him as if his taste was your life elixir. He willingly sits down on your knee again, fucking himself needy with sloppy wiggles of his hips. He also willingly lets you claim his throat in an obsessive grip, melting like chocolate in the sun when you apply gentle pressure on his veins. He trusts you with his life, knowing that you are an expert in stealing his breath. Not once did he get the feeling that having your hand around his throat would end badly for him. You know exactly where to hold him, how to choke him, what not to do. This is religious to him. It leaves him vast of air, dizzy and completely at your mercy and he wants to swim in the fuzzy feelings you create in his chest because of it. Granted, he could still breathe because you never apply pressure on his throat, but he still can’t. He holds his breath to kiss you for longer, only fighting for it once his lungs work against his will. And each time he does, you catch your breath as well, tasting every one of his sounds before claiming him again, needier than before.

And soon, oh so very soon, you cannot take it anymore. You abandon his neck for the sole reason of dragging him with you by his tie. You and he kiss sloppily, moaning and groaning into the other’s mouth as you maneuver through your home.

Yoongi gladly lets you drag him around. Quite frankly, you could do whatever you want with him to get him from point A to B. If you decide to drag him around by his hair, he would welcome it gladly. One time, you decided that it was only appropriate to lead him around by his balls and Yoongi had to do everything in his power to not orgasm too soon. He is quite frankly, your devoted, happy puppy who wants to follow you everywhere.

Tonight he really needed it. He needs to follow you into a place of worship, desire and pleasure. It is the only way to leave behind the stressful award show with its stupid rules and social contacts.

His ripped vest leaves him in the hallway. His belt, which was solely decorative, leaves him in front of the bedroom door. His tie gets loosened inside the room and his buttons get messily opened as you push him to the bed. Yoongi feels like a present being unwrapped prematurely, having to work very hard not to climax prematurely himself.

The back of his legs hit the edge. You weakened him so intensely that he collapses with the first contact, falling onto the bed with a squeaky moan. His back hits the mattress, arching off at impact.

You ravish him with needy touches, clawing off his button up shirt and ripping open the fly of his slacks.

A tight compression shirt reveals itself under the button up. His chest and waist look so snatched in it, his nipples protrude through the fabric.

“You wore this underneath all of it?” you gasp.

“I don’t like to go shirtless under button ups”, he whines, writhing in ecstasy when you drag your nails down his chest and stomach.

“I feel like a fucking predator who got its prey. I literally wanna rip you up and eat you.”

“Please”, Yoongi keens, arching his back.

Ever since the beginning, it was clear that he will be the little bunny and you the big bad wolf in your relationship. And he loves it. He dreamed of it for years, thinking to himself that he will never find someone who can actually make him want to submit like this. And then he met you. You are the most wonderful and kind person ever, you are so sweet and loving and so understanding. Yoongi hasn’t laughed like this with anyone ever, he hasn’t felt so safe and so loved. Being your little prey is everything he lives for these days. You make him feel so fucking fulfilled and in return, you feel completely fulfilled yourself.

He is everything you ever dreamed of. He is kind and sweet and unbelievably loving. He makes you laugh and never makes you feel alone. When you aren’t with him, you think of him and when he is with you, you are happy. It has been years and your obsession with him hasn’t shrunk, on the contrary, you love him more and more each day.

“Fuck, I could honestly eat you”, you get out and begin tugging his shirt out of his pants quickly. Yoongi helps you by sitting up and pulling it over his head, dropping into the sheets again afterwards. He stretches his arms over his head, writhing sensually for your viewing pleasure.

He moans loudly when you instantly claim his unmarked skin with your hungry mouth. You kiss and lick him, leaving spots of your devotion wherever he is sensitive. He takes each mark with pride, leaking into his slacks. He becomes more and more yours. Finally he gets to see it as well. He gets to look into the mirror and count each mark of love you left. He gets to trace them and reminisce about how it was to be yours. He is in paradise.

You suck an especially dark hickey right under his belly button.

“Thank you”, he croaks out, unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer.

You let go of him, soothing the pinch with long, deliberate licks.

“Thank you?”

Your hands are on his waist, holding him hostage. You are kneeling on the floor between his legs. Despite your difference in height, it is you who towers over him. At least emotionally. You might be the one looking up at him right now, but there is no ounce of power in Yoongi. He is completely and utterly under you, choking out another “thank you” while his hips roll up against nothing.

“For marking you?”

He nods his head, squirming sensually.

“Fuck. You drive me insane”, you rasp and claim his waist by biting him deeply. Obviously not enough to actually hurt him, but still hard enough to leave a red mark.

Yoongi wails up, twisting the sheets above his head and leaking into his pants so aggressively that he can feel it stick to his skin.

“Mine.” You come up, kissing the tender spot. “All mine. You’re mine.”

“Yours”, he moans, meaning ever single fucking letter of this word. If he could be yours even deeper, he would. Without hesitation. He was independent and a lover for solitude before he met you. Granted, he is still these things, but he is also very clingy and cuddly and obsessed with attention. Yoongi never thought it possible that he could be a lover of such “cheesy” things, but he is. He loves, loves, loves it when you touch him and hold him and make him yours.

You take off his slacks next, dancing your hands up his legs.

“One last chance to stop this”, you tell him, ogling his bulge. His cock practically wants to burst through his briefs.

“I don’t want to stop this, please touch me more”, he begs, lifting his hips.

You take his consent, pulling off his briefs carefully. You throw them to the side, instantly claiming him by marking his thighs as well.

Yoongi mewls, throwing his legs over your shoulders and giving you complete control over them. They are trembling like crazy each time you mark another spot with your love.

Soon you reach his middle and you waste no fucking time. You nuzzle your face into him, inhaling deeply which embarrasses him.

“Don’t do that”, he begs, wanting to go up in flames. You always tell him that you love his scent, but it’s so embarrassing when you smell him like this. His face feels so hot, his stomach is so tight.

You growl and come up for air, meeting his shy gaze. Yoongi has to gulp when he sees the hunger in your eyes.

“If I could, I would bottle your scent so I always have it with me.”

“Stop please”, he begs, closing his legs in embarrassment.

You obviously force them apart again, holding them in a tight grip as you stand up. They slide off your body like this, but still stay in the air as you hold them. You bend them by his knees, slowly forcing them into the sheets beside his body. Yoongi’s ability to breathe gets more and more forgotten the closer to his face you come.

He holds his breath when you are above him. His legs are over your shoulders, his body is bent in half. He is naked, marked and completely vulnerable while you are still completely dressed.

“Don’t be shy, babyboy. You smell like heaven.”

Yoongi pouts and squirms, forcing you to pin him down.

“I want to give you pleasure so good that you will squirt.”

Yoongi gulps. When you don’t continue to speak, he knows that you are waiting for his reaction.

“What do you mean?” he croaks out.

“I want to stimulate your prostate from every possible angle.”

Yoongi whimpers. He truly and honestly whimpers. When he makes noises as such, it is impossible to know that his voice is naturally so deep and raspy.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

He nods his head, wiggling his feet on your back in excitement.

“You also know that I’m gonna be so careful with you, don’t you?”

He nods his head with more vigour.

“So what it’s gonna be? Yes or yes please?”

Yoongi knows that there is a secret third answer called “no” which he can always, fucking always, voice, but it’s still so hot to him that you make it seem as if he had no choice. That you are going to pleasure him no matter what because he is your little price and you take what you want.

“Yes plase”, he gets out breathily, widening his eyes in a beg.

You seem pleased by his answer, giving him an adoring smile.

“I knew that you would be polite. You’re Mommy’s good boy after all.”

“I am”, he whispers, nodding his head.

“Mhm, you are.”

You straighten up, helping him set down his legs. He knows that distance is necessary, but he still aches when you break away from him. He counts the seconds until you are back, reminiscing about all the times you pleasured him like this.

Sounding. This is what you are going to do to him. Yoongi is no stranger to the kink and he definitely didn’t have it before you. You and he discovered it together one night where you managed to slip your pinky finger into his cock as you jerked him off and Yoongi climaxed so hard from it that he saw stars. You did research together, bought toys and practiced until the kink became a regular thing in your bedroom.

It is so much fun and feels so good to both of you. Quite frankly, you have done it so many times already that he can comfortably take the entire sound which allows you to stimulate his prostate from another angle. Yoongi didn’t even know that he could feel it from his cock and he definitely didn’t think that he could orgasm so fucking hard. But of course you proved him wrong. You are an actual goddess after all.

“Hello, I’m back”, you announce your presence, caressing his knees.

Yoongi looks at you, sighing your name.

“I missed you.”

“Of course you did. You’re a little obsessed”, you tease him, making him giggle shyly.

You giggle with him, studying him from head to toe.

“Now”, you begin and pick up a anal vibrator, “let’s get started.”

“Wait. I didn’t clean out.”

“I think it should be alright. I’ll only stick it in and then keep it there. Is this okay for you?”

“Yeah, just promise to keep it in. I’m embarrassed about the…potential dirt.”

You chuckle, “you’re not dirty. It is really okay not to want it.”

“I do”, he whispers, “please, I want it a lot.”

“Well. Okay then, I don’t know why you’re whining.”

He laughs, scrunching his eyes. You know exactly how to rid him of his nervousness. You snicker and kiss his knee then straighten up to prepare him.

You cover the vibrator in a translucent slick, spreading the rest of it on his hole. You apply a little pressure with your fingers, massaging him.

“Oh wow”, he lets out, melting into a puddle.

“Can you feel it working already?” you ask him.

Yoongi closes his eyes, concentrating on the sensations. Your touch is warm, growing in temperature the longer you rub him. Fuck, why is he getting so sensitive? Wait. He knows what that means. He rips his eyes open, moaning helplessly.

“Now, you figured it out. Just a little something to increase the pleasure. You deserve it”, you say, exchanging your fingers with the vibrator. You work it into his overly sensitive hole carefully. The sensitivity cream you use on him is slippery enough to double as lube so you aren’t worried about tears. You do this on purpose to help the cream work even deeper.

“This is so intense”, he croaks, eyes squeezed shut. He can’t handle it any other way. He has to focus on nothing but the increasing pleasure between his legs. You stretch his hole so gently. It doesn’t hurt at all, despite the head of the vibrator being rather girthy. With his eyes closed, everything he exists for is this sensation. The slow, deliberate prodding of his hole and the increasing depth of the toy; it is everything he breathes for right now. It is both so relaxing and incredibly exciting. Yoongi doesn’t know whether to completely melt or tense every single muscle in his body.

“Can you feel that, darling?”

“Feel what?” he sighs.

“That you’ve been taking the entire toy for the last few moments?”

“What?” he breathes and lifts his head.

Your hand is pressed flat to his ass, a telltale sign that his greedy hole swallowed the entire toy.

“I wasn’t aware”, he croaks, rolling his eyes back and dropping his head. He fucks the air, moaning your name.

You chuckle.

“Now you are”, you say and grip the toy by its round base to wiggle it inside him.

Yoongi reacts in tremors of his body and submissive moans. Now that he is aware of the depth of the toy, he swears it is impossible to handle. The sensitivity cream does its job and makes his insides terribly sensitive to stimulation. He swears that he can feel the toy shift inside him. He needed this so bad and he wasn’t even aware of it.

“Oh god, this feels so good. I needed this”, he chokes out, hole trembling around the toy as you fuck him slowly.

“Of course you did. I saw how you wiggled your butt when you were dancing. You were just asking to have it fucked, weren’t you?”

Yoongi nods his head because what you say is the truth. He did ask for it to be fucked. It is decided.

“Of course you were. I’m so fucking obsessed with you”, you rasp, rewarding him with side to side wiggles.

“God wow”, he arches his back, “the cream is intense. Oh god.”

“Yeah? Do you feel how I fill you out, mhm?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

“You’re so pretty taking me”, you praise, sending trembles through his legs.

“Stop please, I’m close.”

You cease your movements, soaking up the tensing of his stomach and the little mewl he lets out. Your hands roam his marked thighs, eyes totally entranced by his pretty face.

“Shit, that was close. Ah fuck”, he gets out, writhing from side to side.

“I think you’re gonna have a very hard time lasting long”, you snicker.

“I think you’re correct”, he says, making you laugh.

He laughs with you, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Holy fuck, you have me so ruined”, he mewls, dropping into the sheets in total defeat. “Please, just…more…”

“I can grant you this wish.”

Silence overcomes you as you prepare the sound for him. You use normal lube for it, slathering an insane amount on the metal pole. The sounding toy is a thin metal pole with around six inches of length a good finger’s width of girth. It is slightly textured and has a round tip. It isn’t the first sound you used, but the third one. Yoongi can comfortably take it these days, driving you crazy in the process.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, forcing him to twitch.

You laugh, “this already starts well.”

“I didn’t expect it”, he defends himself.

“Mhm, sure. I think you’re sensitive”, you tease.

You connect the toy with his tip, getting him used to it by rubbing circles around his slit. He became leakier ever since you started engaging in this kink together. Especially when he knows that he is going to get his cock quite literally fucked, his pretty dick can’t stop producing the neediest slick.

“Your pretty hole is so wet, babyboy”, you taunt him, giving him a gentle spank with the toy. “it’s practically asking to get fucked.”

“Please”, he begs, feeling dizzy. There is nothing more powerful than your dirty talk.

“Take a deep breath, I’m starting.”

Yoongi obeys, but struggles when you begin pushing the sound into his small hole. His chest rumbles in desperate noises, lifting up and down quickly.

“Are you comfortable?”

He nods his head.

You push deeper, watching in delight how his pretty cockhead swallows the bulbous head of the toy. The worst part is over. You apply pressure around his shaft, keeping your thumb against his thick vein at the underside of his cock. You can feel the toy entering him when you press against it and you use it to your advantage by massaging him wherever the sound currently sits.

“Slower, please slower.”

“Hurts or close?”

“Close. Fuck, really close.”

“Just keep breathing, baby.”

“I’m trying. Oh god, it feels so good.”

You smile. He is so precious. With a fluttering heart, you fill him deeper, guiding your thumb down his cock as the metal toy fills him up more and more. His vein is bulging wherever the toy already sits, his hole is so puffy around the shaft. He is flushed like crazy, constantly leaking new slick. It seems to become more and more the deeper you enter him, almost as if he is trying to make space for you by getting wet.

“One fourth left, babyboy. How are you doing?”

“Aha, yeah, mhm ah”, he lets out, nodding his head. He doesn’t need to say more. It is so obvious to you that he is in paradise.

You would be correct with your assumption. Yoongi is so far gone, existing only for the pleasure. Now, he has to be honest, getting his cock penetrated is intense. It stretches a hole which wasn’t meant to be stretched and fills insides which were never meant to be filled. It doesn’t hurt, but it is also isn’t entirely comfortable. It is intense and addicting and you do it so well that he feels far away.

There is sudden pressure deep in his body. Yoongi can describe it as a mixture of having the intense urge to pee and someone pressing a finger against his prostate at the same time. He knows that it is because you reached the end of his cock, now pressing the sound right against his prostate. One wrong move and it would hurt, but you know what you are doing.

Because the toy is so deep inside him, it can stay at the right spot without having to be held. You run your hand up his cock, picking it up to jerk it off.

“Mommy, holy fuck”, he presses out, following it up with a guttural moan and his hips lifting off the sheets. The handjob moves his cock over the toy, sending constant pleasure through his shaft. It is indescribable. When his cock is stuffed, he can feel orgasmic pleasure in his entire cock and balls. When you give him a normal handjob, it only feels orgasmic on his tip, but with the sound deep inside him, every inch is sensitive.

Yoongi is restless on the sheets, moaning from the bottom of his heart.

“Yeah, holy fuck. You look so pretty, it’s insane”, you agree, voice raspy in desire. You put your other hand on his balls, pressing your thumb against where you can feel the sound inside him. You draw circles on the spot, focusing your handjob on his tip for now.

“Stop! I’m gonna cum, stop it please.”

You wrap your fingers around his base, rubbing your other hand on his thigh.

“Breathe baby, breathe.”

Yoongi obeys shakily, burying his own hands in his hair.

“What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? Holy fuck, I feel like a fucking virgin.”

“That’s hot. Holy hell, you say the sexiest stuff.”

You pick up a slow rhythm, having to stop it again when he flinches and begs you for a break. You let him breathe through it, holding his cock.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so sensitive.”

“That’s alright. Just say the word and I’ll make all of this stop. You can get what you want most.” You rub his balls, tracing the sound deep inside him. “It’s gonna be intense though, I can’t promise you that you won’t see stars.”

“Please”, Yoongi writhes as he willingly sacrifices himself to your enchanting touch.

“Please release me or please stop? Use your words, babyboy.”

“Please Mommy, make it stop.”

“Make it stop. I understand. Hold your cock for a moment.”

Yoongi obeys, following you with droopy eyes as you seem to get a third toy. You are hidden behind a blurry veil of unspilled tears and drugged senses.

Suddenly there are vibrations. Deep, deep in his ass and right against his prostate. Yoongi curls up as if he was punched in the gut, moaning the same way too. The tears escape his eyes and you disappear behind even more blurriness as he loses the ability to focus his eyes.

He is glad that you replace his hand around his cock. His muscles are too weak, working only to bring his shaky hand to his own throat. He chokes himself, lost to the pleasure and so far away. The only thing clear is the electricity inside his stomach and your voice as you talk to him.

“That’s my boy. Choke yourself for me.”

Another buzzing joins the one of the prostate vibrator. Seconds later, he feels unbearable pleasure in his entire cock as you press a wand vibrator against the metal sound. The vibrations go down the entire rod, forcing the round tip to shake against his prostate. You intensify it by running your unoccupied hand up and down his balls and cock, forcing the toy to shift and move inside him.

You promised him relief, but this is insanity. You never did that before. You sounded him, used a prostate toy but not like this. Not with vibrations and at the same time.

Yoongi isn’t a very loud person. Even in bed he is on the more quiet site. You get purrs and whines and moans, but they never go past a certain volume. Yoongi is a quiet and reserved person or so he thought.

Because right now, you are making him genuinely scream. He never did that before, hell, he didn’t even think that he had it in him, but he has to. The orgasm you make him experience takes over his entire fucking body. It never felt like this before. It shouldn’t even be possible to feel like this, but it does and he has to scream because of it.

He cums all over the rod, throbbing and convulsing with such intensity that he manages to squeeze it out of himself all by his own. It glides against the wand, shaking because of the vibrations which only makes it more intense. The last inch hurts as the round head slips past his swollen slit. The relief is instant. Clear liquid squirts everywhere, ruining not only the sheets but his body as well.

“Yes baby, squirt for me. That’s it”, you talk him through it, helping him ride out his most intense orgasm ever by jerking off his empty cock and pressing the wand against his overly sensitive tip.

It is not a surprise that Yoongi begs you to stop once his orgasm dies down. You didn’t expect him to go again, not after what you just witnessed. You turn off the vibrators and instantly scoop him up on your arms, holding him safely as he twitches helplessly.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m right here”, you whisper to him, playing with his hair and rubbing his shaking back.

“What did you do to me? Oh god I can’t stop shaking”, he gets out, sobbing quietly as the intense afterglow overwhelms him.

“Shhh it’s okay, darling. I’m right here. Let it happen, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Yoongi seeks your embrace, cuddling so close to you it feels as if he is trying to merge with you. He can’t talk a lot at first, recovering with little noises and shaky breaths. You let it happen, holding him until he feels ready to face you.

And oh, how he faces you, how he looks up at you as if you were his fucking everything. His wet eyes let you know that he cried, his cheeks and nose are still flushed, his once neat makeup is smeared and messy.

You give him a smile, caressing his cheek tenderly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, but please don’t ever stop”, he whispers, voice shaky in emotion.

“Did you like it that much?”

He nods his head, “you just made me fucking scream. I, I never screamed before. I felt it with my entire body. I don't know what happened to me. What, what’s still happening to me.”

You smile, dropping your forehead against his. Yoongi closes his eyes, chasing your affection by rubbing his nose against yours.

“You make me happy when you talk like this, my love”, you whisper.

“I’m happy too, so fucking much.”

You smile and kiss his nose. Yoongi chases the tenderness, twisting the front of your shirt with weak fingers.

“Please promise me that we are forever”, he whispers. “I think you would fucking break me if you ever left.”

“God, I really got you good tonight. My sappy romantic, you”, you smile as you talk, pulling him closer, “the only way I’m gonna leave you, Min Yoongi, is if someone claws me off of you against my will.”

He chuckles and holds you close, “good. That’s fucking good. Ah fuck, I’m done. This was so intense.”

“It really was. You made a total mess of the bed.”

“I know. I think my soul left my body.”

You snicker, he snickers as well, kicking his feet happily.

“Gosh you, I could seriously eat you.”

Yoongi purrs, smiling goofily and stubbing your lips with his nose. You take his silent plea for more nose kisses instantly, nibbling on it gently which makes him giggle and squirm happily.

Quite frankly, he will endure all the annoying award shows in the world if it meant that he can come home to you and find his rebirth in the palms of your healing hands.

185 notes · View notes

arotheosis · 3 months ago

Text

It’s all Whirred Up (NSBU Swap AU concept)

Essentially I started thinking about what it might be like if the action heroes were the ones in the real world, and the video world characters were the action heroes. I tried my best to switch things up so it feels different enough, although I’m still a little unsure about some character roles.

Will I ever actually sit down and write this properly? Who knows

In an old strip mall in Lake Elsinore sits one of the last remaining video rental stores in the country: Slater’s Video Superstore.

With the rise of streaming and digital media, however, the store is on its last legs. Its last week in fact, and its employees prepare to close down and find a new road to take in life.

Steven “King” Skin is a Princeton student with a bright future in politics. He’s nearing the end of his gap year, and wondering whether he really wants to go back to school after all. He works on the finances of the video store.

As he almost mindlessly balances the the store’s financial spreadsheets, he watches on one of the video store screens: Liv Skyler, master thief. Her name is whispered amongst criminal circles like a legend, because she can steal without even leaving a single trace behind.

Victor Ethanol is a young man with a dream of pursuing Formula 1 racing, but working several odd jobs to provide for his family. He does occasional maintanance/ plumbing work for the businesses in the strip mall, including the video store, which he visits frequently.

Trying to get him to take a break from working so hard, his brother Shaun asks if he wants to watch a movie. The movie’s protagonist? One Wendell Morris, former biker gang member who has become an informant for several underground organizations. He’s the black sheep of the Morris family, and their falling out is shrouded in mystery.

G13 is a young hacker who got caught attempting to access classified files, and was sentenced to community service. He’s supposed to be cleaning trash around the strip mall, but he mostly stays inside the video store using the crusty old public computer they have, since he’s no longer allowed to use any at home.

While attempting to bypass the many blocks on that ancient desktop computer, he sees a trailer for an old movie. It depicts Usha Rao, more commonly known by both her allies and enemies as Grandmother. She’s the head of a widespread criminal organization, and despite her sweet seeming appearance is someone to be feared. She’s been alive longer than anyone knows, she’s seen everything and knows everything, so if you mess with her family you cannot escape her wrath.

Working over by the more adult section of the store, is Jack Manhattan. After suffering through a grueling divorce with his wife and losing custody of his two children, his life is essentially at a standstill. He is very vocal about how much he prefers not being tied down, and talks about having many partners, but it’s clear that in reality he is not dealing with the separation well and is very lonely.

Unable to even look at the more unsavory content in front of him without thinking about the love he lost, he switches the channel only to see a movie starring crime investigator Paula Donvalson. While many overlook her based on her wild and sporadic personality, the crazy deductions she makes are more often than not entirely on the money, and the FBI begrudgingly hires her for many of their cases.

Jennifer Drips is a woman who does not stay in one place for far too long. Drifting quickly from town to town, she never sets up roots, but leaves a trail of lovers behind her. She is currently staying in a crappy apartment near Lake Elsinore, and working at the video store for some extra cash before she moves on.

On a screen behind her as she’s packing up the store’s inventory, plays a movie led by Russel Feelds, a mechanic developing gadgets for every organization under the sun. A self described lone wolf, he has no loyalty to any side, as long as you can pay his prices.

Greg Stocks is a wealthy man who owns nearly every storefront in the strip mall, except for the video store. He heads in every day attempting to make an offer that Slater will accept, but even as the store is close to shutting down, the video store owner remains stubborn.

Walking by the front of the store he sees, on one of the display TVs, a film about a man known only as Dang. Dang is the world’s deadliest assassin, and his methods are all just as strange as the man himself. After every kill he leaves behind his calling card, the word “rashab”. No one has deciphered its meaning yet.

#never stop blowing up #d20 nsbu #nsbu #dimension 20 #kingskin #liv skyler #vic ethanol #wendell morris #g13 #g13 nsbu #usha rao #jack manhattan #paula donvalson #jennifer drips #russel feeld #greg stocks #andy dang litefoot #dave balt #slater hancock

81 notes · View notes

lazyscience · 23 days ago

Text

So for my followers who come with a factory-installed uterus I know you're concerned about your health and autonomy. And you well should be

But here's something all of you should be thinking about and planning for no matter what your plumbing - if Trump goes through with putting RFK Jr. in a position of power as far as the Department of Health and Human Services, he could do a LOT of damage as far as vaccines. Vaccines are not super profitable for pharma companies, despite what cranks think; they take a LOT of development for only a few uses. Vaccines are driven by public health requirements and a lot of places would shrug and say "ok, bet" if there isn't a guaranteed market for them.

The professional medical community will still have recommendations about when and how to vaccinate, but they won't have the force of law, and insurance will probably smell blood in the water and start kicking up a fuss about covering vaccines when they're not required. So then when doctors recommend them there'll be suspicion and pushback that they're just doing it for "kickbacks" even though the only doctor who would have gotten paid for vaccine is ironically Andrew Wakefield, the lying fuckshit, because his whole "vaccines cause autism" lie was to push his OWN, SPECIAL proprietary vaccines that wouldn't cause his made-up syndrome, because NO vaccines were causing it. May he roast somewhere warm when the devil comes for him.

This will not happen immediately, but. Because there will no doubt be anticipatory compliance on the part of drug companies and healthcare systems. I HIGHLY advise you get the fuck out there and get your Tdap updated (tetanus, diptheria and pertussis). Whooping cough is out there, and it is horrible for babies. If you are eligible for shingles vaccine and haven't done it, get that. Get your COVID vax if you haven't, there might not BE another one, at least not that's available in the US.

If you have kids, especially make sure THEY'RE up to date because their classmates might very well not be mandated to get them any more - state regulations will undoubtedly vary, but with the current composition of the Court, it will rule in favor of every possible exemption for antivaxxers as possible because the conservatives are all "fuck the weakest of us, I got mine fuck you." And expect idiocy like "pox parties" to spread (not like the average suburban parent can tell measles from rubella from chicken pox from hand foot and mouth by fuckin' looking at it, who knows what the christ they're going to be passing around). Measles is NOT just a "bit of a rash." Rubella is the world's leading preventable cause of birth defects. Chickenpox can result in scarring, encephalitis causing blindness or even death, and the risk of shingles later in life. I have a cousin who would be 57 this year who died as a toddler from hemophilus influenzae strain B meningitis, one of those "too many" childhood vaccines that were invented in the 1990s. Tell my aunt that's too many vaccines -oh, wait, you can't, she fucking killed herself out of grief her baby died.

tweens? get them the HPV vaccine if they haven't gotten it (given its associations with sex it'll probably be one of the first to go, but it prevents CANCER. who wants their child to get cervical cancer, or penile cancer, or throat cancer, or rectal cancer? IT PREVENTS CANCER. JUST DO IT.)

Similarly, if you have a child with any kind of immune issue that precludes vaccination, I would very much look into homeschooling, because bye-bye herd immunity.

If you have teenage kids, encourage them to update their Tdap and get the meningiococcal meningitis vaccine if they haven't been mandated to already by campus policy. Tetanus and meningitis aren't common, but they are frequently permanently life-altering when they're not fatal. We're talking months in the hospital. I'm old enough that I remember people fucking dying in college, and the panic that went around campus every time one of those breakouts happened in the state wondering if it would make its way to our campus.

Stay safe out there. I have no idea what this will do to our already teetering healthcare system but I don't think it'll be pretty. Everybody pray Trump pulls his usual scam and hangs RFK Jr. out to dry, because while the plutocrats consider regulations an unnecessary burden, they don't have a stake in creating a public health state of emergency when we already have a workforce not keeping up with demand, unlike Captain Convenient Brain Worm.

#stay safe out there #public health #vaccines #antivaxxers #please god no rfk jr #let him just be interested in publicity grifting not actual work #us politics #fuck trump

61 notes · View notes

wistfulcynic · 1 year ago

Text

the inn is a metaphor

They are terrible at running an inn.

In the beginning.

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing.

They learn.

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start.

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one.

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.”

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them.

They get to work.

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul.

(It’s not Pop-Pop.)

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests.

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are.

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews.

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes.

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer.

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.”

“You miss it.”

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.”

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face.

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?”

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—”

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?”

Ed shakes his head.

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.”

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way.

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.”

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.”

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?”

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.”

“Ooh, fab.”

The inn’s front door closes behind them.

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive.

It’s what makes them happy.

#blackbonnet #blackbonnet fanfic #gentlebeard #gentlebeard fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death #post season two #profdanglais

282 notes · View notes

uhdrienne · 9 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

03. broadcast?

🌼 warnings: awkward situations!

🌼 word count: 2,297 words

"So you're moving in?" Wonwoo asks as you finish up your fifth phone call of the day.

"Guess so," you shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. "I got a moving company to help me with my stuff. Not everything, since I'll be going back in a few months."

He nods thoughtfully. "And you'll need a place to stay, I'm guessing."

You look at him. "I'm not staying with you. Don't try that."

"Calm down, Miss Doctor. I'm not ever offering my place up. You'll need to pay rent for that anyway. I can arrange a meeting with a landlord for you if you need it."

"How do I know I can trust you?" You narrow your eyes.

"I know everyone in this town." Wonwoo replies without missing a beat, in the tone that grates on your nerves. "What's it going to be? I'm a busy man."

Miss Kim is nice. Probably the nicest person in the town ever.

She drafts up a contract swiftly right in the local bookshop after your discussion about your housing arrangement with the help of Wonwoo, who serves as your middleman. She also starts talking about a small clinic space for you.

"So just pay the stipulated monthly rent in the duration of the last week of every month and you're good." Miss Kim summarises after you've both signed the handwritten contract.

"Alright," you say.

Miss Kim smiles. "It's been a while since we've had any newcomers in the town. You're going to have a good time."

"I doubt that," you reply quietly, but Miss Kim waves you off.

"Wonwoo," she turns to the man sitting next to you. "I'll leave the renovating to you and the boys? Not sure about the plumbing situation, but-"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"No worries," Wonwoo reassures the middle-aged woman, a warm smile on his face. "Shua and Kwan are pretty free around this time. We'll handle it. And it's for a clinic, that's important. We'll sort that out too."

"Oh, you angel," the woman sighs happily. "Well, that's one load off. Y/N, dear, I'll see you soon when you move in. No need to worry about anything. Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan will handle it for you. Goodness, I've never seen boys who work better with wrenches than they do!"

She gets to her feet, and by default both you and Wonwoo stand up too. "I have to head off," she adds ruefully. "My- Mr Woo, I mean, needs someone to collect the trash bags again."

You bow as she leaves, and spin towards Wonwoo. "You do renovation?"

"Reno, plumbing, painting, wallpaper installation, carpenting, whatever makes up a house." He smirks. "Do you need my services, Miss Doctor?"

"I'm not trusting you with my house."

He rolls his eyes and groans. "Not this again."

"It's serious!" You retort. "I want to stay in a nice place for the 3 months I'm here-"

The flap of a booklet cuts you off.

Wonwoo has opened a whole damn book of certifications. Encased in transparent pockets, they tumble down, showcasing their sheer number in all its glory. And they reflect exactly what he says, you note as you scan down the list. He has government-issued licenses for renovation, as an estate agent, plumbing, wallpaper, carpenting, and no way... he's a licensed barista? A certified mechanic??

"Not so anxious anymore?" Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at your dumbfounded expression. "You-"

"Come on," he says, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "You should go home, it's getting late. Come back soon so you can take a look at the house and the clinic plot."

He fishes out his phone. "What's your number?" After you give it to him reluctantly, he lifts a hand in goodbye as he strides out of the shop, leaving you.

"You're moving?!"

"Why ae you so surprised?"

"You're a city girl through and through, YN LN," your friend announces. "You whine when you have to take the stairs instead of a lift in the mall. There is no way you're upping and leaving to a place where they don't even take cards."

"I asked this guy to get them fixed," you shrug. "And it's just for three months, I'm not staying forever."

"I know you just have to do something rash when you see kids in need, YN," your friend sighs. "The time when you decided to donate half your first paycheck to feed underprivileged kids? Or the time when you organised a sale in twelve hours during college to fund medicine supply for-"

"Okay, shut up!" You turn to your friend, flustered, who's laughing unabashedly now. "The kids in that town don't have a clinic. The adults and grandparents don't either. And t's a private establishment, so I'll earn a lot of money while I'm there. There's a Louis Vuitton bag I've been eyeing."

Your friend laughs again, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Hi. I'm Joshua, everyone calls me Shua. And that's Seungkwan over there."

The two good natured men smile at you and you bow back stiffly. Beside them, Wonwoo is pacing the area that is soon to be your house, tape measure in hand.

"Hello."

"So, our newest addition!" Seungkwan smiles. "We're trying to plan your interior deco, what are you thinking of?"

"Fabric wallpaper," you reply immediately. "In taupe or grey. I'm thinking beige furniture, gives it a minimalist vibe?"

Seungkwan opens his mouth, presumably to suggest something else, but Joshua cuts in smoothly, smiling at you. "No problem. It's great that you know what you want."

At last, finally someone who gets you. "Thanks," you say stiffly, letting out a tight smile.

Wonwoo seems to be done with the measurements, as he keeps his tape measure. "Shua, Kwan, I'll take Miss Doctor to see the clinic plot. Be back soon."

"Okay!"

Wonwoo beckons to you. "Come on then."

A swift ten minutes later, you're standing in the middle of the clinic space.

"This could be the observation room," you mutter to yourself. "Or the office."

You deem the place good enough to move into. Plenty of natural light, a spacious front room, and a few more rooms at the back for observation rooms and your own office.

"Send me what you want for the wallpaper and all that," Wonwoo says, as you both leave the place and he gets ready to head back to your future house. "And it's minimum wage per hour for all three of us. We take bank transfers."

"What?"

Wonwoo smirks. "This isn't the city, but we don't work for free. I'll send you the details, you can just pay us when we're finished."

You gape at him. "I- of course I'm going to pay you! Who do you think I am, a leech?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'll contact you when we're done, but the office might take a while more. Bye."

Dear Miss YN LN,

Thank you for your letter regarding your placement at the pediatrics unit here at Seoul University Hospital. Unfortunately, we cannot make the necessary re-arrangements as the other doctor mentioned has already started his five-year term with us. As we are in the process of preparing for the start of your contract, you were given the three months delay before you begin work.

Do advise us on what we can do to improve the situation as we hope to provide you with a positive working experience. We look forward to your reply.

Warmest Regards

Seoul University Hospital

Three Weeks Later

"Looks okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Wonwoo scoffs. "Shua spent all weekend putting up that fancy wallpaper you wanted."

"I thought you could deliver whatever your clients wanted," You hiss. Delia's eyes flick between both of you, seemingly in amusement.

"Thanks, Chief Jeon. YN's a little picky, but the place looks great!" She interrupts, and you shoot her a glare.

"No worries, Miss..?" Wonwoo smiles at her.

"Just call me Delia! YN, you stay here. I'm going to check the town out, yeah?" And before you can respond, she's out of the newly renovated house.

"She knows you," Wonwoo points out, reaching down to pick his haversack up. "You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

He chuckles, fixing his belt. "Anyway, Seungkwan wanted me to pass you a message. The villagers heard we have a doctor staying here for a while, so they want to invite you to a village dinner tonight. Come if you're free, and take the chance to know them better, would you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! You can promote your clinic at the same time, no? Those things are usually pretty fun."

You perk up slightly and he notices. He lets out a laugh. "See you there. Bring your friend if you want to so you're not alone."

Unfortunately, Delia isn't free, what with her taking the night shift at her nursing job in a Seoul hospital. She leaves with the promise to call you when she's free to chat, and you head to the location on your own.

You bow stiffly to the three grandmas who taught you how to handle squid as they pass you, and they chuckle and pat your hand. Cringing at the feeling of old, wrinkled hands on you but saying nothing, you head towards a familiar face.

"Oh YN! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Joshua remarks cheerfully, holding tongs and standing over a portable grill sizzling with seafood. "Here, I'll grab you a plate. These prawns came in fresh, so you get first dibs off the grill!"

"YN! Over here!" Seungkwan's voice catches your attention, and you turn to see him waving you in the direction of his table. Next to him, playing with a young girl, is the chief you least want to see.

Joshua lets out a hearty laugh as he passes you a plate, laden with seafood and meat and rice. "Eat up. Stay with Seungkwan if you're a little awkward, he'll keep the conversation flowing."

You thank him a little quietly before making your way to the table. As you settle, a middle-aged man reaches to shake your hand.

"Mr Woo," He says, a little gruffly but still pleasantly. "I work in the village bank."

"Bank...?" You ask. "I didn't see one when I-" You stop yourself before the embarrassing story of you trying to retrieve your pride pours out.

"Oh! It's a small one, near the convenience store. It's quite secluded so you probably didn't catch it." Mr Woo doesn't seem fazed as he explains. Seungkwan throws his head back and laughs, "I had a hell of a time trying to find it when it was first built!"

The conversation starts and you try to listen, but it's just not the same. You're only used to chats about tough medical cases and patients, never about the day's currents, the catches from the sea, and the trash collection on Saturday mornings. You only pretend to be distracted when you see the chatterbox Miss Hwang arrive. You don't really want another debate with her.

Luckily, Delia's call when the clock approaches 9 gives you a mild reprieve. You excuse yourself and close the door to the small room at the back. It looks like the broadcast room, with a small mic there. You swipe accept on Delia's call.

"Hey, girl!" her voice rings across the line. "How's the dinner?"

"Awful," You sigh as you ean against the mic shelf. "I haven't mentioned my clinic once, and all they talk about is the day's fish!"

"Don't be such a grump," Delia teases. "That's a nice topic, you know. Life there seems so idyllic, I'd so take that over this any day."

"No you don't," You reply tiredly. "They're all so simple -- too simple it's aggravating. The chatterbox lady insisted on playing the strangest music earlier, and I wish I hadn't said I was staying here, now I have to put up and pretend I'm interested in their way of life!"

"You might like it there. The people seem pretty nice," Delia persists. Fortunately, her nagging is cut short by a call of her name, presumably from another nurse. "Shoot. I gotta go."

"Go on," you mutter. "I'll find an excuse to leave soon or something."

With a goodbye the call ends, and you mentally prep yourself to head out again.

But when you leave, you don't hear the excited hum of chatter among the villagers. Not the weird trot music Miss Hwang insisted on playing. Save for the sizzle of the grill, the whole space is silent. Every single villager's eyes follow you. Even Miss Hwang has fallen silent for once, pupils dilated in seemingly shock.

You swallow. "What?"

You turn in Seungkwan's direction. Joshua's. And Wonwoo's. The other two men aren't meeting your gaze at all, but Wonwoo is looking up and directly at you. His eyes don't have the same spark they did when you saw him earlier. They've hardened in anger and disappointment, and his jaw has tightened considerably. Joshua's deliberately looking everywhere else except for in your direction, and Mr Woo's pretending to pick at nonexistent fuzz on his clothes. Seungkwan can't even meet your eye.

You're stuck in momentary confusion until it hits you in a wave of shock and panic. The mic. The mic in the room must have been turned on the whole damn time. Your words had been broadcasted for everyone there to hear.

Your face and ears burn red, and you stride over to the table, as quickly as your shaky legs can handle, grab your bag and leave. No one follows you or tries to stop you to explain yourself.

You've stunned the whole town into silence.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼pairing: wonwoo x reader (written and smau), fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.03: broadcast?

prev. masterlist. next.

🌼 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou

writer's note: oh noooooo

69 notes · View notes

gravehags · 1 year ago

Text

separated by a degree

Pairing: Cirrus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: domme Cirrus, mild BDSM, face sitting, pussy eating, fingering

Words: 2,742

Summary: You've had a rough week. Cirrus is here to make it all better.

a/n: RING A DING DING PART 6 Y'ALL like it goes without saying but Cirrus could step on my neck and I'd say thank you so this is an ode to that

@terzosbignaturals EAT UP

~~~

This week had just been too much. Too fucking much.

Ever since you bid Mountain and Aether a lingering, intimate adieu after your evening together, everything has gone to shit. The plumbing in your shower - no one else’s, you sourly think - has gone out, forcing you to have to travel all the way across the abbey to Cumulus’ room every night just to bathe. It’s not that you don’t want to see her - quite the opposite - but something about inelegantly stomping the halls in your damp flip-flops and wet hair back to your room makes you agitated. On top of that, you’ve been assigned to your usual library duties as well as being an altar sibling every mass. You’re exhausted, both mentally and physically, and you haven’t been this anxious since you were a novitiate in Papa Secondo’s summoning classes. You’ve barely seen the ghouls, let alone spent time with them, and the loneliness is beginning to take its toll. You’re currently flopped on your duvet half naked after a long mass led by Papa Nihil, groaning into the empty space when there’s a knock at your door.

“What?” you shout, throwing an arm over your eyes.

“It’s me,” comes a feminine voice from the other side whom you identify as Cirrus. Shooting up from your bed you pad over to the door and open it while still hiding your body behind it.

“Gonna let me in?” she purrs, giving what’s visible of your form a once over.

“Uh…I’m…indisposed.” you say stupidly, to which she snorts.

“Half the pack has seen everything you have to offer and now you’re shy? Cute.” She’s smirking and leaning against the entryway as you grip the door tighter.

“What’s up?” you ask in a high pitched voice, changing the subject. If this is a come on you’re flattered, and part of you aches for it but the ache in your brain and body is much more powerful.

“Wanted to offer my services,” she says, tracing a claw down the wood of the door.

“Oh?” you say, somewhat intrigued. “And what does that entail?”

“Stress relief,” Cirrus says airily, “you’ve been going through so much recently, sweetheart. And I,” she steps forward slightly, entering your space, “can help.”

You don’t even realize that you’ve opened the door wider until she’s curling a lock of your hair around her long finger and staring at you intently. Her tail slips around you and rubs gently against the curve of your ass. Your lips are parted and you’re about to say something when all of a sudden she’s stepping back.

“Not tonight, though, I understand,” she says, examining her nails with a sigh.

“I need to shower,” you blurt out. A vaguely sinister grin unfurls on her lips.

“Use mine,” she says, leaning her head against the doorframe, tail flicking behind her lazily.

Your mouth is dry. “Okay. Yeah just let me…let me get my stuff.”

“Just a robe should be fine,” Cirrus comments, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling. “You won’t need much else.”

You clench your thighs together at the surge of wetness that creeps out of you and your clit throbs at the brief contact. If Cirrus sees you do it, she doesn’t comment on it. Abandoning your post at the door you go back to the bathroom and remove your bra and panties, already soaked through. Sliding the fluffy, dark red bathrobe over your shoulders and securing it at the waist, you return to Cirrus.

“Ready,” you say, sounding altogether too goddamn eager and Cirrus knows it judging from the way the points of her teeth peek out from between her lips.

“C’mon baby,” she purrs, escorting you down the hall with her hand on the small of your back. “I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

The walk down to the ghoul den is quiet, but you do pass Aether in the hallway and give him a little wave. When he sees who accompanies you he lets out a rather ominous chuckle and winks at the other ghoul. Cirrus looks entirely too pleased as she opens her bedroom door and ushers you inside, closing the door behind the both of you with a loud snap.

Her room is a beautiful collection of dark blues and blacks, making you feel like you’re hanging amidst the stars in the night sky. It’s calming and she seems to enjoy how your shoulders slump in relaxation.

“Go shower,” she nudges you towards the bathroom door, “then I’ll take care of you.”

You’re about to shut the door behind you when she calls out, “oh and…no need to put the robe back on.”

There it is, that sensation in your belly you feel in every encounter you have with the ghouls. That wonderful feeling of anticipation that lingers in your veins, the promise of something positively delicious, has you grinning as you turn the water on.

Cirrus’ products are nice…very nice…and you enjoy the heady fragrance that perfumes your hair after you step out of the shower. Drying off, you regard yourself in the semi-fogged over mirror. You have no idea what to expect from this encounter and it turns you on immensely. With a sigh, you drop the towel and head out to see Cirrus. Opening the door you hesitate slightly, until you peek your head around it and see what’s waiting for you. While you were in the shower, Cirrus transformed. She is no longer wearing the standard ghoul outfit you’ve come to expect, but rather a beautiful black lace lingerie set that makes your jaw drop. Your gaze drags over the rounded curve of her hips and her dark nipples - hard beneath the expensive material. Suddenly, you become hyper aware of how you’re standing stark naked in Cirrus’ bathroom doorway and move to cover yourself. She watches you hunch over yourself and grabs something from the nightstand. You recognize what’s in her hands as a leather flogger, the handle intricately and tightly woven. She runs the tendrils through her fingers as she approaches you. Flushing from tip to toe you move to touch her - anything to distract from your vulnerable state - but she stops you with the end of the whip against your sternum.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she smiles, canting her hip, “you have to earn that, pet.”

You pout at her and she gives you a look, tucking the end of the flogger under your chin to raise it.

“Get on the bed,” she snarls suddenly, “hands and knees.”

You feel her eyes follow you as you make your way to the bed and climb atop the dark duvet. On your hands and knees, as she requested, you feel a sense of humiliation wash over you and also…something else. You’re enjoying yourself. With a grin, you arch your back to expose your ass and cunt to Cirrus’ gaze. She approaches behind you and runs the flogger along your back and down your legs, making you shiver. When you attempt to crane your neck to look at her she strikes, hard and fast against your ass. You cry out and jolt forward, making her giggle.

“Look at you, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat,” she purrs, once again dragging the flogger gently against your bare skin. The sting of the first strike hasn’t faded when she hits you again. The bite of the leather tendrils against your haunches makes you cunt ache and you feel yourself drip onto the covers. She hums as she observes the mess you’re making.

“Do you like being exposed like this?” She strikes a third time, your mind spinning. When you don’t answer she strikes again.

“Yes!” you howl, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Yes, what?” she asks sweetly.

“Yes…mistress?” you guess and she strikes you again, making you sob.

“Say it like you mean it.”

When she runs the flat of her palm over the abused skin of your ass you want to cry. It’s the first time she’s touched your bare flesh and you ache for her.

“Yes, mistress!” you pant as she squeezes the globe of your ass hard enough for her claws to dig in.

“How much more can you take?” Cirrus wonders aloud, coming over to your face to tilt your chin up once again. Your damp hair hangs around your face and tears streak down your cheeks. Cirrus gives you a pointed look, indicating that although she is in control, she is ultimately asking you for permission. You nod your head in her grip.

“More, please,” you say hoarsely. She breaks character for a moment and allows her face to split in a beautiful smile.

“Good girl,” she coos, running a single claw down your cheek. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale shakily, feeling more wetness slide down your thighs.

When she returns to her position at your ass and cracks the flogger across your skin once more, you practically choke on the broken moan that slips out of you. Your arms are shaking, trying their damndest to hold you up. She slides the leather tendrils between your thighs to graze against your clit and your arms give out. You sob into the duvet as you prop yourself up on your elbows - the best you can do in your state. Cirrus doesn’t seem to mind as she is instead content to drag the flogger through your sopping folds, enjoying the way your mess glistens on the leather.

“Can you handle two more?” she asks idly, caressing your ass again.

“Yes, mistress,” you pant, whining when she removes her hand from you. The flogger comes down on your skin twice in rapid succession and your moan is more of a shout. Cirrus steps away from the bed and sets the flogger down.

“So good for me,” she croons, running a finger down your spine. “Can you be good for me a little longer?”

Your forehead hits the duvet as you whimper into the fabric. The ache in your backside stings like nothing you’ve ever felt before, but the ache in your cunt takes precedence. You push yourself back to sit on your knees and let out a ragged breath.

“Yes, mistress,” you say with surprising steadiness. Cirrus beams at you and climbs on the bed next to you.

“Lie down, pet,” she murmurs, nudging you up. You crawl towards the pillows and practically collapse on them, simply relieved to no longer be on your knees. She watches your every move as you adjust and then slowly, she slides up your body. You’re desperate to touch her, and tell her so. She laughs, her breath hot against your skin as she traces patterns into your side.

“Hmm, I suppose you’ve earned it,” she murmurs and your hands fly to her waist. You want to see more, feel more of her so you cautiously slip the lace underwear she’s wearing off her hips. She allows it, still propped up above you, and kicks the garment off when it slides down her legs.

“You have one more task, pet, and you’ll get your reward,” she coos in your ear, before pushing herself up. Grabbing the headboard she pulls her body up yours and in a smooth motion straddles your head. Cirrus hovers there for a moment and you sigh when you glimpse how fucking wet she is. The knowledge that she is just as affected as you are makes your heart sing and you’re desperate to taste her. Slowly, too slowly for your liking but you remain silent, she lowers her cunt to your mouth. You slide your hands up her thighs to grip at her hips before leaning up to give her an experimental lick. When your tongue runs through her folds, tasting her for the first time, the both of you moan in tandem. You are dying to hear her make that noise again so you swipe your tongue upwards once more, this time teasing at her clitoral hood. Her hips buck and you hear the headboard creak under her grip. When you latch your mouth onto her cunt, she gasps so hard she almost chokes. Exposing her clit you wrap your lips around her and suckle at the bud.

“Fuck, baby,” she whines from above you, and your grip on her hips tightens. “That’s it, don’t stop.”

So you don’t.

Your face is a dripping mess as you continue to suck at her clit, pausing every once in a while to drag your tongue through her. You can tell she’s trying her hardest to remain in this position, her thighs shaking with the effort. When you bring her hips down lower onto your mouth, you groan into her folds and she whimpers. Gently, you probe your tongue inside of her and she lets out a loud moan that makes your clit throb. As you fuck her with your mouth her hips begin shifting. She’s riding your face as delicately as she can but when you latch yourself onto her clit again her bucks become fiercer. She’s chanting your name as you moan against her cunt, sliding one hand in your hair to pull at it. Her body is tensing - you know her end is coming - so your assault becomes vicious, wanting desperately to see her come undone.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she pants, “I’m gonna cum, baby. Ah–ah–I’m gonna–”

Cirrus climaxes with a high pitched drawn out moan, and you continue licking and sucking at her. Her body twists and contorts above your head as you hold her firmly against your mouth. After several moments, she murmurs your name and you reluctantly release her from your grasp. When she moves off of you and settles in between your legs, she gazes at you adoringly. You’re a mess - covered in her slick from the nose down - and you lick your lips as you look at her.

“You,” she breathes, and you let your lips slip into a smile. You’re practically glowing with pride and she beams back at you while stroking the insides of your thighs.

“You’ve more than earned your reward, my pet,” she says, nuzzling your mound. When she finally spreads your legs, a litany of “thank yous” fall from your lips. Just as she did, you cry out when her mouth slides over your clit and she wastes no time in drawing your pleasure from you. She hums against your cunt as she slides one finger, then two in between your folds and begins fucking you intently. Cirrus isn’t here to tease you any more - she’s on a mission - and she’s ruthless. You’ve got your fingers buried in her hair, thumbs caressing the base of her horns, as she pistons her fingers inside you at a staggering rate.

“Cirrus,” you keen, all formalities forgotten, “Cirrus, honey, don’t stop.”

When you reach your climax you feel it from head to toe, building at the base of your spine and spreading to all your extremities. You cry out her name again and again and she continues fucking you through your orgasm. Your body is limp and twitching and she’s still going until you finally beg for her to stop. Now her face is covered in your juices as she leans back and removes her bra, finally exposing all of herself to you. Arousal twitches slightly in your gut as you view her bare breasts, but ultimately nothing comes of it as she snuggles against you.

“Goddamn,” you breathe and she smiles against your shoulder.

“You good?” she asks, reaching up to pet your still-damp hair.

“You could say that,” you grin, turning on your side to face her. She looks beautiful, her cheeks just as flushed at yours. And just as sticky. When you move to get up to grab a wet rag she frowns and drags you back down, wrapping her arm around your body and bringing you close.

“You smell like me,” she says, inhaling deep at your scalp.

“Yeah, I’m covered in your pussy juice,” you say wryly, which makes her laugh out loud. The sound makes your heart ache and you rest a palm on her cheek.

“Thank you for this,” you murmur quietly. She leans in to give you the only kiss of the night you’ve had, and it’s so terribly soft. She’s purring as she pulls away from you.

“You make a good pet,” she says with a little half-grin. “Think I might keep you,”

That wouldn’t be so bad.

#cirrus x reader #cirrus x female reader #cirrus x f!reader #cirrus ghoulette #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

184 notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 2 years ago

Text

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

#chrissy speaks #this isnt even touching on the stuff I am simply BAD at #like figuring out furnishing #which has been a whole fucking ordeal but thats because im bad at it so its not like i can blame anything else

460 notes · View notes

cryptidfuckery · 7 months ago

Note

Hey so you don’t have to reply to this but I’ve been having a career crisis lately and considering other vocational paths. One of these careers just so happens to be hair. I was wondering if you could tell me what made you want to become a hairdresser?

Ohhh this might get long but

First things first my mom is a hairdresser. Me becoming one wasn't a case of "I'm going to take over my mom's business" because she's been a sole proprietor booth renter for probably over 30 years now. She doesn't run a salon with other people under her, it's just her and her clients. If I worked under her I would have just been taking money our of her pocket.

But my mom being a hairdresser definitely influenced me! Getting to watch her work and own her own business my whole life helped me understand exactly what to expect out of the industry, and what I would have to do to be successful.

But me actually deciding to become a hairdresser started with me being absolutely miserable in my third semester of college. I loved studying sociology, but school and I don't mix well. I also realized that while I loved what I was studying, I didn't have any real interest in the professions usually associated with what I was majoring in. (Didn't want to do any kind of counseling, hate math so no stats work, research was the most enticing but too close to how school works and I Know would have been Miserable ultimately)

So one day being absolutely miserable and stressed around finals I sat myself down and forced myself to think about what the next 5-10 years would look like. I realized that if I stayed in college it would be to finish, find a job in my degree, then eventually when I have the time and money again I'd go to cosmetology school. (At the time I thought I was going to be a makeup artist. Holy shit fuck that noise. Not for me.)

And it just kind of clicked for me. Why am I spending all this money on a degree i (while I loved) did not really want? Especially when I could finish cosmetology school in under a year with less money than 2 semesters of college would be? Especially since you can start making money directly out of cosmetology school and continuously build after that as you gain more clients.

My final advice is this. There is a hairdresser for everyone and there are clients for every hairdresser. Genuinely the best thing you can do is be yourself and the right people will find you. And then they'll give your their friends, who like you too because you're their kind of people. And you get to choose absolutely what the fuck ever you want to specialize in. You can do exclusively color. Exclusively cuts. You can choose what style of cutting and coloring you want to learn from and you can completely switch that in the middle of your career. You can exclusively do texture treatments (perms, keratins, etc) if you're okay with so many chemicals in your body and bad smells! You can specialize in rat haircuts, which I honestly might try to do. (I have not done one yet. Someone let me do a rat haircut on them. Please. Rat haircut.) You can do everything! Also don't forget barbering!! Whole different school with different subsets and specializations, but many many cosmetologists cross over into both as well! I plan on eventually also acquiring a barbering license so I can truly be a one stop trans chop shop (mainly so I can offer my trans girlies clean shaves between electrolysis/Lazer appointments (iirc one can and cannot. I cannot be fucked to check rn)

So. Yeah. I think trades are absolutely the way to go right now in this economy. We provide services that everybody wants or needs, from hair to plumbing to carpentry to welding to auto mechanics to nail techs. There will always be a broken toilet, an oil change, a haircut needed.

Watch out for pandemics though. Woof.

49 notes · View notes

artycomicfangirl · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have some headcanons of Daisy's and Luigi's love languages they display in the relationship?

Oh man, you know what? You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for an ask like this since…well, Ever! I LOVE these kind of things! I had to do a quick research to brush up on what Love Languages are again. So I took inspiration from some templates I found online. Sprinkled in with a little bit of the Movie-Verse Headcanons.

I guess this is a potential Part 1 of Luaisy headcanons? All because I’m unfortunately not able to list them all as of now!

But, Here we go! Hope you enjoy. Sorry if this ends up being a super long one though, haha.

- Acts of Service -

💚 Luigi would be more than happy and willing to tend to any Plumbing relate problems Daisy has. This is one of the only few times where even if he doesn’t even know the full situation of the problem, he never says no to her needing help, and dives head first without hesitation…

• Even if it means literally diving into that now rising flooding castle basement of hers, just to locate and fix that pesky broken pipe system!

🌼 💚 Cooking for each other. Unlike when I think Peach lovingly does most, if not all of the cooking for Mario. Cooking seems to become a thing divided equally between Luigi and Daisy.

• Luigi is known to be the best at Dinners. Some of his experience gained from helping his Mama back in Brooklyn growing up. And helping Mario cook too. One of his favorite meals he always loves to share with Daisy on occasion, is his mother’s classic Pasta recipes!

🌼 Plumbing can be real exhausting work sometimes! So Daisy is usually the one to fix up some either some real ice-cool drinks to personably bring to him in sweltering heat. Or Make him some hot cocoa or coffee for the really cold days. She’ll even bring some snacks, or even lunch if it’s almost time for a break.

🌼 Whenever she can be there, Daisy would always sit around and keep Luigi company while he worked. Also for the fact so she can pass him tools that he might need during work. Or even better, hold the fort as best as she can to prevent little mishaps that may occur. Need someone to hit a pipe to get it working? Need an extra set of strength to turn that creaky faucet? Trust Daisy to help out too!

- Physical Touch -

💚 Luigi is so, so, SO gentle with Daisy. Not in a way where he believes that she is perceived to be ‘Delicate’. He has faith that she can handle herself of course! But that’s just simply in his nature with everyone else too. Very little to no aggressive or intimidating body language. And with her? It’s just extra sweet.

• He knows she’s strong. But he can’t help but be the one to look out for her and be worried for her sometimes. When he sees her all scuffed up from fights, he offers to bring her water, ointment, bandages, whatever she requests. At first he allows her to try and heal herself. But If Daisy needs more help, he would step in to help tend to her wounds as much as possible.

💚 Luigi was is the most nervous and hesitant in initiating any form of touch at first. He didn’t want to make the wrong moves or anything! But upon the first hug and some vocal encouragement, it was a sign for him that he is on the right track.

He slowly gets more confident in holding hands with her, having an arm around her waist (Although, he can’t help but melt a little at the fact that he could be THIS close to someone he loves!)

💚 Kisses on his nose get’s him all smiley right away! Daisy ends up doing these out of surprise, and it just gets him so much. Kiss him on the cheek? Instantly giddy. She kisses him on the lips? Immediate knockout. He’s giving the Heart-eyes vibe. This is Something he shares in common with his bro too!

💚 When Luigi sees Daisy on the verge of lashing out at someone. He’s the first to quietly take her hand in his to gently squeeze it. This either gets her to look at him, which he gives a nod and look of reassurance for her to think things through. Or it’s almost like an instant touch that needs no words nor looks. But it has an instant affect on her. She rarely gets directly angry at him ever. How can she be mad at someone just so sweet to her? She knows he genuinely wants to help her.

• Sometimes he chooses to gently rub her hands instead. Also an equally effective calming effect.

💚 If Daisy ever feels down or at her worst, he more than welcomes her with open arms, and does not ever judge her for crying (something she rarely ever shows in public. Always putting a strong face.) It matters very little to him in the moment that his hat or clothes would be tear-soaked.

💚 Speaking on the note of a Sad Daisy. There are a few trigger moments which if you end up hurting Daisy, can make this sweet and timid Greed Plumber, decide that enough is enough. There is a reason why his Trope is known as a ‘Cowardly Lion’!

💚 He will try to place himself in front of her always. Whether it is him jumping in front of her to take whatever brunt of force was directed at her without thinking. Or steeling himself up to give stare down (albeit with quaking knees) in front of his enemy.

He starts of with a slight quiver in his voice. But if you continue to mock him or her a second time, the shakiness in his tone fades. Becoming a bit more determined. A quiet strength. At that point, he will not allow you to push him around and insult Daisy like that. Even if he might get knocked around a bit, he keeps getting back up, just to stand up for her.

💚 He’ll even try to use his hat at some points if he needs to cover her face more for protection.

💚 For some reason I feel like instead of usually carrying a Princess Bridal-style like Mario does. Luigi tends to carry Daisy on his back more. This often leads to escaping from some very comical situations!

🌼 Daisy is DEFINITELY the one who is not shy in expressing her affections naturally. But also really straightforward in her actions.

🌼 Ever experienced one of those surprise Run-at-top-speed Jump hugs? That’s Daisy for you! She often forgets to tone herself down sometimes.

🌼 Pulling him by the suspenders of his overalls gently just to kiss him.

🌼 She’s the one ending up carrying him like a bride instead HA

🌼 Like Luigi, Daisy is always one to step in front of her beloved to shield them from any potential danger. She is usually the one to Yank him out of the way with top speed (Apologizing immediately to him afterwards!) and pull him close to her body to try and cover and protect him as much as possible.

🌼 You would not be able to live it down if Daisy sees you harming or insulting Luigi. She is super quick on to you, ready to throw hands (And weapons, if in a fight)

🌼 She and Mario share the same kind of sentiments when it comes to standing up for Luigi.

“Say that again about my Boyfriend…And you’re gonna regret it!”

- Words of Affirmation -

🌼 Daisy is the one with the vast supply of pet names and complements!

🌼 The Iconic “Hey Sweetie!”

🌼 Buttercup, Honey-Bee, Weegie, Squeegie ect

🌼 If you don’t stop her, she may resort to floral Puns!

🌼 When it comes to support, she is like a really passionate cheerleader. You would definitely see her yelling her heart out at the sidelines of any event/competition/Kart race

🌼 When she writes notes or letters, Daisy tends to be the one who draws little doodles at the end of each letter, or just as little decorations here and there. Mario may or may not have accidentally revealed that he had caught Luigi chuckling at a letter he received from Daisy. Only to be told by his younger Bro that he found her drawings adorable and it made him smile. So she’s been doing that ever since!

💚 Luigi is a bit more reserved with this type of thing. But in fact, he is secretly the more poetic one! Surprisingly The type who’s words of love end up being a natural Cupid’s arrow.

💚 I see ‘Desert Flower’ as a popular head canon compliment he might say, and I also agree with that!

💚 Why do I feel like he would totally be the one to call her “My Dynamite Gal”??? When he’s mustered up so much confidence??

• Because Luigi is known to be more shy and timid, he does have more struggles with confidence in some parts. Leading to this possible little interaction:

—————————————————

💚 “ Face it…How can I even do this? I’m such a loser! I mean, look! I literally got a huge L on my head!”

🌼 “…Does It really have to mean Loser?”

💚 “H-huh? I-I…well what else can it be?”

🌼 “Well…put it this way. You’re kinda like a Clover!”

💚 “A…Clover?”

🌼 “Yeah! You ward off evil. You’re green all over. So How about…Lucky?”

—————————————————

- Quality Time -

💚 Luigi ends up loving taking strolls around the castle with Daisy. Whether it is in the Palace Gardens, or by lakes and rivers. Even Flower fields, where he’ll even attentively listen to her pointing out the new things.

💚 Luigi May end up getting challenged when he goes out on hiking trips with Daisy. The first few trips, he ends up faltering behind a little (He has bad knees everyone!), But Daisy would often slow her pace down a little so he can keep up. She doesn’t mind one bit. But overtime, he pushes to improve himself, in which he now is actually able to keep up by her side. She’s extremely proud of him

💚🌼 The Camping trips together are always fun though! Well, excluding some Minor scares and freak outs from the local wildlife at night. Luigi Teaching Daisy the classic treat of making a S’more. While Daisy would do something shared from her own land sometimes!

🌼 Daisy loves whenever she and Luigi get to go on one of their ‘Sports dates’, and is usually the one initiating these meetups (Knows all the good places!) while Luigi throws in suggestions. Usually consisting of Golfing especially. She is more knowledgeable in the technique, which she ends up teaching Luigi what she already knows. She likes to jokingly say that he’s “Learning from the best!”

🌼 If they end up moving in together and sharing the same bed, Daisy would be the type to wake up a bit earlier than Luigi does. Then goes back again to get some extra sleep hours. She has this little habit where she can’t help but give a little kiss on his cheek by then. If he continues to sleep, she lets him be. But if he ends up wanting to be woken up by this, she starts to go in for more kisses. Some of them are quick ticklish to him!

All until she’s gazing back at sleepy half-open eyes, A lopsided smile, and a very happy green Plumber who’s morning has just been made even better!

💚 On Luigi’s part, he’s the one who sleeps the last. Letting Daisy sleep first before him, as he sometimes has a bit of work he needs to attend to. Or just simply reading a few pages of his favourite book beside her.

• When he notices a lock of her hair astray on her face, he ends up brushing it aside for her. In that moment, he seriously cannot believe that this beautiful fiery woman is his beloved, and is right next to him.

- Receiving Gifts -

💚 It is a popular head canon going around that Daisy is very into gardening. So, Luigi would even go out of his way to brush up on said topics about Gardening and nature just for Daisy. Same thing that he would do when it comes to her other interests, just so he knows what to get her!

💚 He has really great callback memory, in which he is able to remember most of the conversations he would have with Daisy when she talks about various plants. Including seeds and flora she wishes she could obtain to grow in her castle Garden. So! Every often, he would visit the local markets or shops in the town, where he would check up all the latest imports/exports to see if he can find some uncommon, or even rare seeds for him to collect for her. If it’s something from Brooklyn, he most likely tries to buy seeds of flowers for her smaller pot plants!

If he goes on adventures with Mario, he does something similar where he collects various trinkets or souvenirs for him to take home for her, or send to her by mail.

🌼 Daisy is definitely more extravagant, and a bit more ‘flashy’ when it comes to gift giving. She does not do this to show off. She 100% fully believes that her believed deserves the best he can get…Even if it ends up giving him the biggest of blushes. And just so happens she can’t stop gushing about it either in her own way!

🌼 Actually at first, she might have been giving him ‘Weird’ gifts for the first few times when they became a couple. They’re not offensive gifts! But they were a result of her having misunderstood some of his hobbies and likes at the beginning. But never in bad faith, as she genuinely tried to guess what would make Luigi happy. But luckily with help from Peach and Mario, she got good results. And long the way, she started getting better at gift-giving.

🌼 I mean, have you seen that Golden statue of her and Luigi in her own Mario Kart Course? If she was the one who commissioned that, she would totally go THAT far.

🌼 She would go on a secret calling spree, prepare a huge birthday with all of his favorite foods, invite literally all of his friends and family as a complete surprise. Making the Green man crying out of happiness.

🌼 Well, not exactly a traditional kind of gift. But just for him, Daisy would end up wearing cute dresses or other outfits. Something he likes. But that’s because we all can’t deny, Daisy is still Daisy. She still loves to tease Luigi one way or another.

Green Bro may have been staring a little too long, as the Princess walks by in a tank-top and shorts combo!

#super mario #nintendo #the super mario bros movie #princess daisy #luigi #luaisy #headcanon #headcanons

83 notes · View notes

luminouslywriting · 7 months ago

Note

I read and adored Timeless, and I now have the biggest crush ever on Gale (also would love to be friends with Bucky and all his chaotic energy). I know you have a million projects in the works, but if you ever get the chance, would you consider writing some domestic headcanons for Gale? ❤️

ABSOLUTELY! The way that I screamed when I saw this in my inbox haha! i don't nearly get enough asks and I love this kinda thing! So yes yes yes!! And also, you're so sweet and it absolutely made my day to get your message about Timeless 🥰

Let's get into it!

-Gale Cleven is above all things, a man that keeps his emotions close to his chest and isn't super verbal about the way that he's feeling. But you know what he's really really great at?? ACTS OF SERVICE!

-He is a firm believer that the little things make the difference in people's lives!

-You've had a tough day at work or school? Flowers for you when you get home

-The car is a little low on gas and he's fully aware that you're capable of getting it yourself BUT he's getting it for you because he wants to

-He's out getting a few things to fix things up back at home (be it plumbing or lighting or whatever it is) and he'll see a small thing and think of you. So maybe it's a piece of candy or something he knows that you've been wanting for a while, but he gets it! This is also goes along with gift-giving, but I digress

-He notices you're tired and a little low on energy? Don't worry babe, he's got you covered with the dishes or cleaning up a mess or whatever it is

-Now I do really think that he expresses a lot through physical touch

-So if you're brushing your hair or doing a nighttime routine, he's gonna be watching you starry-eyed and wanting to help in some way

-He's absolutely the type of man to brush your hair for you or do his attempt of putting it up if you prefer it that way.

-LOVES physical affection when it's just the two of you

-It's the quiet hand-holding during dinner

-Or the way that he'll pull you closer while trying to fall asleep because he loves the way that you fit against him and it's really comforting

-There's at least one time where he's washing the car himself and you're watching from inside and THIRSTY and I can't say that I blame you, okay?? That may or may not be how you ended up pregnant, but that's ANOTHER STORY haha

-Saturday is work day and Sunday is a day of rest even if you two aren't necessarily religious

-Like, he wants to get all of the shopping and house-work done on Saturday so lazy Sundays can exist for the two of you

-But also he doesn't like to just laze around so he's usually up before you and Sunday mornings might just mean breakfast in bed for the two of you

-I do think he's actually pretty decent at cooking and would definitely get better at it as time goes on

-Sunday afternoon walks around the neighborhood, especially when you have babies haha

-Washing the dishes together absolutely ends in water fights if you're in a playful mood

-He's a dog person so you guys definitely adopt a dog or maybe two or three together

-Loves working with you, especially with his hands

-He also really likes late-nights when you're reading in bed together or just cuddled up on the couch to watch some late night tv shows or movies

-He's an I Love Lucy fan and this is just the facts

-He's a caretaker so be on the watch for if you're sick because he will absolutely baby you and take care of you

-But if he's sick? Hahahahaha, that man is working through it until you can convince him to rest

-Some spicy things next haha

-He has an authority kink in the bedroom and you can't convince me otherwise

-SOFT-DOM GALE, SAY IT WITH ME NOW

-He's absolutely relentless when he's in the mood and there are so many little domestic things that get him in the mood. It can be as simple as you bending over to put something away or something as mundane as you playing the piano and watching your fingers move. That doesn't necessarily mean he's VOCAL about it, but if you find yourself suddenly pinned and he's giving you a certain look, then you know what's about to happen haha

-Gets more comfortable being vocal in your sex life as things progress and time goes on

-PRAISE SO MUCH PRAISE

-Sometimes he comes home from work and he acts like a man half-starved and kitchen sex is a thing, though i could not tell you why haha

-ANYWHO, it would just be the most loving relationship and you'd always be taken care of

-And as always, let me know if you want to see me elaborate on anything or if you just want to chat! I'm always down haha!

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air x reader #gale buck cleven #gale cleven #gale cleven x reader #gale cleven headcanons #masters of the air

43 notes · View notes

1141520851813892291920 · 5 months ago

Note

I was told I should come here to tell you about a recent experience I’ve had. Something about how you’re looking for scary stories or whatever. Sure, I’ll tell you, but it’s not like it’s going to help or anything. I don’t think anyone can help me, really.

It happened last night at time of writing, so Monday night. I work as a pool cleaner (pool technician is what they call it, can’t help but roll my eyes every time I have to say it) and with the summer months rolling in, work’s been busier than usual. Everyone wants their pool chlorinated and clean, everyone wants their pool tiling redone, everyone’s looking for a special rate, etc. So many uppity folks believing they’re more important and their water should be cleaned first instead of finding another way to stay cool. Bit annoying if you ask me, but it’s a job, and I couldn’t care less what these people blow their money on

Boss sent me out to some address out in the boonies and I assumed it’d be the same ordeal as always. I show up, vacuum out all the gunk, scrub up a bit, explain basic maintenance to the customer, yadayadayada. Even being out in the middle of nowhere, you don’t really assume anything. Outside of clearly these people are loaded if they live out of the way AND they’re calling about a pool cleaning. The drive there took about half the day because they were very insistent on someone coming out that same day, and I was content with the idea of an easy day for once.

I was wrong.

Everything seemed okay upon arrival. Quaint little house a couple miles out from the nearest town, beautiful property if I’m honest. The grounds surrounding the cottage seemed to be cluttered in a bunch of water fountains and irrigation systems for a small garden the owners were tending to. All of the water sources seemed to snake back in onto themselves, seemingly entangled and intertwined, it was all rather impressive. Whoever owned this land was probably more savvy than I was about the basics of plumbing. Made me wonder for a second why they’d needed a pool cleaner, but I had a job to focus on and not much time to think about it for longer than a passing moment.

When I knocked on the door of the residence, I was met with the most breathtaking view of a gorgeous woman who’d answered the door. A real looker, made me almost envy the person who got to be with her, I’d never been charming enough to end up with someone like that. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like now, or what she sounded like, or all of what she said, but I remember her eyes. I remember that while the rest of her seemed inviting and warm, those eyes remained cold and dark, almost analytical. Scanning for something that I couldn’t quite be sure of.

She’d told me that her husband had just left for work but that the pool was in the back. She handed me the check for services, and initially I was taken aback since normally payment comes after, but it was one less thing for me to worry about. She told me I could get started and that she’d be outside after she’d changed. Wasn’t really sure what that meant at the time, but I wasn’t going to decline seeing more of her, and with a nod I started to head to the back area of the cottage where the pool was.

By far it must have been the filthiest pool I’ve ever laid eyes on. Overgrown moss, all manner of disgusting, vile muck, as if the pool itself hadn’t been cared for in years. I swore I’d seen the carcass of a less than lucky squirrel at one point, but tried not to think about it all. Popped my headphones in and started the process of vacuuming the mess out of there, and I was thankful for the drone of noise that made it impossible to think for too long. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder that I stopped, and what I saw when I turned around wasn’t what I expected.

The wife had joined me in the backyard in what had to be one of the skimpiest swimsuits in existence. Strings that screamed at the tension they were put under, and while I tried not to look, I couldn’t help myself. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to make any mention of it, but the next words out of her mouth could have made me keel over from excitement if that were possible.

“Would you help me with some sunscreen?”

We ended up heading over to a lawn chair she’d setup and I enjoyed the feeling of her warm flesh beneath mine as I rubbed the ointment into her skin. I don’t think I would have in retrospect, but in that moment it felt like that was the only thing that mattered in the world. I remember the way she looked at me with those eyes, and how I could see myself reflected in her gaze; I remember how sure of myself she made me seem, and how good it felt to escape my own self-doubts for once. How it wasn’t so bad to be a pool technician after all if it meant I’d get to experience the joy of beautiful women like this more. How I’d be able to tell my mother to kick rocks for thinking I’d never amount to anything.

At some point, she’d requested that I undo the straps tied on her back so she could get an even tan before she could get in the pool. My stomach lurched, but I agreed, and after undoing the straps, she instructed me to go finish up while she enjoyed the view. With a newfound surge of confidence, I set to work, scrubbing away all of the disgusting bits of dirt and grime in a jiffy. Even added some extra cleaning chemicals besides the chlorine so she wouldn’t have to trouble herself with worrying about not being able to take a dip in the pool. If I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near as excited. Funny how your thoughts circle when you have time to reflect on things.

My job completed, I announced that the pool was once again open for swimming, and earned a delighted giggle in return. Something that sounded so ephemeral, as though it were not of this world, but I wished to hear it again and again. I’d started to pack up my tools and planned on enjoying the many daydreams I’d be thinking of on the way back of this scenario I’d found myself in when a sudden movement caught my eye. When I turned to look, I found her beckoning me to come closer, a smile playing on her lips while her gaze never left mine. If everything else had been a fantasy prior, her next spoken words were the cherry on top.

“Would you like to join me?”

I watched in amazement as she removed the fabric that barely covered anything and slowly walked back into the pool, her eyes fixed on me, that same come hither motion ever present. I didn’t even need time to think. Before I knew it, I was freed from my clothes and in the water beside her, and we locked into a brief moment of passion. It all felt surreal, as if it weren’t what was happening, but good. That’s when I felt the pull on my ankle. A pull that at first seemed like something I’d neglected to fish out of the pool before announcing that the waters were safe, but one that quickly became terrifying. I felt myself get pulled under, and despite how shallow the pool was, I couldn’t climb back to the surface.

I felt dozens of what felt like hands pulling me deeper and deeper down into the depths of a pool that was much too big for what I’d just cleaned. I swore I heard whispers telling me that things would be so much better if I gave in and joined them and how life could be so much more if I relished being worth something as part of their group. Sentences that still don’t make much sense to me now but they don’t become any less terrifying. I reemerged from the surface as my vision started to darken, and scrambled out of the pool back to dry land, heaving up water as I did. As I caught my breath, I heard a voice say something that made my blood run cold.

“Look. At. Me.”

When I turned back around, I found the source of the voice coming from the pool. I was met with the creeping gaze of someone who’d submerged themselves beneath the surface, only their eyes and the top of their head visible. Whoever was in the pool, it didn’t look like the woman who’d answered the door, and they began to rise from the waters that now appeared murky once again. It was a wretched, decrepit old woman, one who appeared to have become bloated and waterlogged as though they’d been submerged for far longer than the human body can handle.

I watched in horror as she began to cackle, her skin peeling away from her body as she attempted to exit the pool and head in my direction. I was frozen in place and watched as with every shift of the water, this pool began to change, and alter. Faces reflected in the ripples of the waves she was making, faces that I swore I recognized. Her eyes had locked onto me with what I swore was the same cold, dark gaze I’d felt earlier in the day. She was halfway between me and the pool when I was able to steel myself and begin running back to the car. The last words I heard echo from her still haunt me now.

“Get back into the water. Join us. Join your friends. We’re waiting for you.”

I don’t think I stopped the car again until I heard the second alarm go off warning me about low fuel. Quit my job after, I don’t need that kind of stress in my life, there are other things I can do in the meantime. Hopefully the next gig has buxom babes who aren’t completely mental. If not, I’ll be headed to the beach soon, and maybe I’ll get lucky there. Can’t say I’ll be looking to get into the water, though.

...well, I hate to say it but I am feeling physically better than I was prior to reading this statement. Though, I was perhaps remiss in...stalling on responding to this one for so long.

It stuck out to me due to the nature of the...reflection. It tastes similar to whatever has been trying to...consume? Capture? Reflect Tim.

It is a complicated situation, and one I do not yet understand completely. Reflections are...distortions of light, if viewed from a technical standpoint. But they are also imitations, unrealities of their own...there is no shortage of folklore about mirrors and reflections - do not get trapped between them, do not make eye contact with them, do not accept the invitation to step into the looking glass...

Which is to say...I am lost on this. I've come to accept that the powers of the world are...not exactly the same as the ones that I knew of Before, but are no less present. They seem to exist in their own right, though if Michael's door is anything to go by, they are still able to be influenced or at least...visited, by the familiar fears that I Know.

What do I know about the reflections so far... -They appear to feed off of...insecurity, and self doubt. -They can change their appearance (unsurprising) -They are ephemeral in nature, and do not have a fixed Place -They can communicate directly with their victims and targets. -They appear in opposition to predation and blood. I don't know if any of this will be helpful. Martin and Michael are insistent that I stay in the car while they take care of things with Tim. Oh yes, as if that is going to happen. I have more experience than both of them, at least now. That, and the poor pool boy's misfortune was a rather reinvigorating snack. I am feeling much better. Stay in the car, my arse.

#[submitted statement]#another archive #tma #tma podcast #somewhere else #aaarg #the magnus archives #tma rp blog

17 notes · View notes

kodared · 2 years ago

Text

☆ Welcome home Neighbor~! ☆

-----------

after sleeping over at Howdys, you mentally prepare yourself to meet the others...

... where is your phone?

Chapter 4/?

Word Count: 3113 Out of 9322

Human Reader/ Welcome Home

Finding yourself in this position at the ass crack of dawn was probably the most ideal way to start your morning. It seemed that you were moved from the counter you once rested at, to the cot Howdy had prepared for you.

It was nothing spectacular but it meant a lot to you, it was obvious as well Howdy took great care to make sure you wouldn't be disturbed in your sleep, practically cocooning you in a dark green blanket.

…

However, it did nothing to stop you from tossing and turning throughout the night.

Vivid memories of nothingness surrounded you while you desperately tried to get the chill of eyes off of your back, even if there were none.

The cold chill that rattled up your spine was enough to influence you to finally get up, even if it meant being awake before Howdy, you took this time to examine where exactly you were.

It looked to be a section of Howdys shop you'd never seen before, the only way you knew it was still Howdys store… or was this his House? Were from the tan walls being covered with what looked to be old baby pictures of him.

You had to admit he was a cute lil bug, words you would never say to him of course

Your cot was made in the living room area, you could only assume Howdy was somewhere around here as you wriggled yourself out of the blanket cocoon Howdy trapped you in.

You saw a set of stairs leading up into the overhead section of the Bugdega, so without much thought, you walked up and saw it lead into Howdys office, you had been here the previous day so you quickly made your way to the bathroom.

Your hair by now was… certainly something! There seemed to be no hairbrush in here so you did the best you could with sink water and your hands, thankful there was plumbing here at least.

You also took care in rubbing at your healing scabs with some soap and water, god only knows what it would be like to get an infection here. You could practically hear Howdys concerned voice now just thinking of an infection.

After a few minutes of attempting to do your usual morning routine, you emerged from the bathroom and began to open the door leading to Howdy's main store area. You saw the sign at the front was still flipped to “Closed”, So you decided to not mess with anything in the shop.

You did however snag an orange to snack on while you wait, you did have store credit after all.

As you sat down on the stool Howdy had left behind the counter, you decided to marvel at the sunrise that was coming above the Town, your hands busied with peeling the orange.

You ‘really wished your friends were here’ you thought as the orange was successfully peeled. It was times like these you would offer each one of your friends their own section and share. Maybe Howdy would like some?

If you had known any better you would have saved the bug a slice, but your hungry brain had other plans as you practically demolished the thing.

…

With nothing to busy your hands with, boredom practically seeped from the bright walls into your bones.

Until you remembered you should still have your phone! Nothing like brainless media to jumpstart the mind in the early morning, as you reached into your pocket praying there was service here, you noticed one key flaw.

Your phone was missing.

It was always in your jacket pocket, you made sure to always keep it there, hell you remember in middle school having a chain that attached to your phone case to keep it in that exact spot!

It wasn't like you to lose things, so you kept searching your pockets, maybe you dropped it in the forest?? There was no way it could just disappear.

With that final resolution, you decided that taking a morning stroll through the woods wouldn't hurt. You would just have to take care to be back in time to greet Howdy and thank him for his hospitality.

The doors to the Bugdega still let off their audible alert as you walked out, you guessed there was no need for Howdy to lock the doors at night?

…All of a sudden sleeping over at Sally's doesn't sound that terrible,

—---------------------------

…You did your best to trace your steps in the woods but it seemed like you were getting positively nowhere with your phone hunt. The forest seemed to stretch on forever, also cementing the fact you had probably jumped to another world in your trespassing escapade.

‘This blows’ You thought as you let out a sigh and began walking back to town. The sun had officially risen in the sky enough for it to be considered early morning, so you knew Howdy would probably be concerned if you didn't return soon.

Before you could return to the safety of Howdys shop, you saw a large… bird? Who you had not yet met, you internally thanked yourself for washing up in the morning as you heard her voice from afar.

“ ‘Ello there Neighbor!”

…If they kept calling you neighbour you swear you were gonna scream.

She rose one of her wings to politely wave at you, and you guessed it was only polite to wave back when you were able to get a better look at her as you approached Howdys shop.

Before you could enter the shop though she approached you with rapid speed, If you weren't so damn awkward maybe, just maybe you could have entered fast enough.

“My! Arent you a wonder Chickadee!”

She of course took hold of your hand that was going to push against the doors to Howdys shop to give you a warm handshake,

“My names Poppy! Poppy Partridge, what's yours ‘Honey?”

She had a voice that reminded you of your old southern Grandma, it was honestly comforting to you, in a weird, missing home sorta way.

“My names Y/N, nice to meet you, Ms.Partridge,”

She let go of your hand and smoothed her feathers down, clearly excited to finally meet you for the first time,

“Oh please my dear! There's no need to call me Ms.Partridge, just call me Poppy!”

The Ms. must have just slipped out as you were thinking of your grandmother, she always preferred formalities, it was nice to hear the same expectations weren't held by Poppy.

Her eyes held the same curiosity all of the other residents of this town had shown. However, she was being much more polite and made an effort to not stare or cause you to be uncomfortable, which was nice.

As she began to speak again you saw her eyes pop up behind you, and you heard the familiar sound of the door system going off,

“Y/N! I was wondering where you ran off to!”

…Seems Howdy had finally woken up, you moved to give Howdy some space to step out of the shop but as you looked up he looked... Really really frazzled.

His normally smoothed-down hair now contained a cowlick in the back and his hair poked out in all different directions. His outfit was different as well, you don't know why you hadn't expected him to be wearing pyjamas, but you definitely weren't expecting him to be a slipper kinda guy.

Poor guy looks like he saw you were missing and ran out to look for you without taking any consideration for getting dressed, now you really feel like an ass.

“Ah, sorry Howd’s... My phone was missing so I went to go check the woods for it, didn't mean to scare you,”

Your eyes instinctually looked at the ground instead of him as you smoothed down the back of your hair, a nervous habit you’d developed in middle school that you could never kick.

Howdy let out a sigh of relief, “Don't apologize Y/N! M’just happy you're alright!”

He seemed to turn his attention to Poppy after consoling you of your worries,

“And a good morning to you Poppy! What brings ya to my shop so early? Hate to say but I haven't restocked on flour yet!”

Poppy let out a good hearty laugh at Howdys joke, she must have been the towns baker, which definitely made sense given her southern accent and very friendly nature,

“I just saw this one walkin’ by so y’know I had to stop by and greet the new neighbour!”

…New neighbour? Did they all seriously expect you to stay here and move in? You had hoped you would be rescued by now, or at the very least shown how to leave by today.

Howdy though seemed none the wiser to Poppy's comment, letting out a small laugh as he turned to enter the shop once more,

“Well! Lovely seein’ ya Poppy! But I gotta take my leave unfortunately, These shelves won't stock themselves!”

“Good seein’ ya Darlin’! See ya’round Y/N!”

You rather liked Poppy and Howdy, but not enough to permanently reside here, I mean for fucks sake there was no toothpaste. You would be lucky to survive past 40 here-

Why are you genuinely thinking of the logistics of this?? ‘We need to find a way home’ you thought as you followed closely behind Howdy after giving Poppy a wave of goodbye.

Before Howdy could head to his back office to get washed up for the day, you had to know something..

“Hey, Howdy?”

“What's up Y/N?”

He stopped in his tracks leaning slightly on the doorway with his second set of arms, that friendly smile still on his face even if he was tired

“...Do you think I'm going to be stuck here..?”

Your sorrowful expression must have been evident because Howdy began walking towards you, your eyes meeting the floor again as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“I mean! Don't get me wrong you are all lovely! I just miss my friends, and my mom of course must be worried!”

Your words quickly became more frantic as Howdy neared you, they tumbled out like you had said something wrong even though you knew for a fact you did not.

Howdy though didn't say anything other than pull you into a firm hug, you were beginning to enjoy his dad hugs, they made you feel safe.

“... You'll be alright Y/N I promise, ill make sure to get ya home,”

…Oh thank the gods he wasn't gonna just end it at you'll be alright. Your panic practically bled out into the floor as Howdy hugged you for a second more, and then stood to pat you on the shoulder.

“ I'm gonna get ready for the day, Don't forget to eat breakfast Y/N!”

…And with that Howdy had gone into the back office to get ready, leaving you once again alone with your thoughts.

It made you feel comforted to know that Howdy would make sure you get home, that momentary comfort gave you enough strength to sit on your stool behind the counter and mentally prepare for the day ahead of you.

You hadn't forgotten yesterday when Howdy said you would be meeting the Neighborhood today after all.

—------------------------------------

…Though as you and Howdy approached the bright blue house, you wondered if you would ever be mentally prepared enough to do this.

The house in question was shaped like a dog house, leading you to make the guess that this neighbour was a dog, which you loved dogs! You just wished they weren't gonna be like twelve times your size.

You supposed it was better than the red house that was adjacent to it, That house had literal eyes that followed you as you and Howdy walked, and while Howdy waved to it you did no such thing, thoroughly creeped out by the animated eyes.

I̷t̵ ̷d̸i̸d̴ ̵r̵e̸m̶i̸n̸d̵ ̵y̷o̷u̷ ̴o̵f̶ ̵s̴o̷m̴e̵t̶h̴i̷n̷g̶ ̴t̷h̶o̶u̶g̶h̵.̷.̷.̸

Howdy looked at you one final time, offering a warm smile, before knocking firmly on the door, you saw a Blue flash of wind and, poof! Howdy was gone!

…Or so you thought before you looked three feet away and saw him being hugged by a giant blue dog

“Howdy! Been awhile Pal Where have ya Been! Ya need to stop bein so cooped up in your Shop!”

..That voice was very familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it, Howdy once again being the ray of sunshine he was tried his best to pat the Blue dog on the back as he laughed,

“My Store doesn't stay stocked with hotdogs without me Barnaby!”

So the dog's name was Barnaby? Very fitting.

Barnaby set Howdy down, going to speak to him before his big round eyes landed on you, oh shit.

You loved hugs just as much as the next guy but you were a human, not a puppet.

“So you're the new Neighbor!”

Just like you expected he swooped you up in a big hug, which surprisingly was super gentle, you supposed it made sense for him being made out of fur and fluff. You might as well savour it,

“M’ Name’ths Y/N!”

You did your best to hug the dog back, his fur was silky soft, and he would make a great pillow,

He let out a very loud and boisterous laugh

“ I like the cut of your Jib Kid!”

With one final squeeze, he set you back on solid ground, your world still spinning when you saw his paws.

He. Paints. His. Beans.

Move out of the way Howdy and Poppy, Barnaby was the new favourite.

You would have stayed excited if it were not for the piercing stare you felt coming from your side, as you turned to Barnaby's open doorway, you saw a yellow puppet man, y̵o̸u̸ ̷c̸a̴n̴t̸ ̵q̸u̵i̸t̸e̵ ̸r̴e̷m̸e̶m̵b̶e̵r̸ ̴h̷i̴s̵ ̷n̸a̶m̶e̵.̶

“Good to see you feeling better than yesterday neighbour,”

The startling stare you felt must have been coming from somewhere else, this guy spoke in a smooth voice and if you were a child, it just might have lulled you to sleep.

“ Y/N! This is Wally, my good friend since forever!”

Barnaby moved to wrap his arm around Wally, their height difference very amusing to you, finding yourself barely able to stifle your giggles.

“pleasure to meet you Wally, sorry about yesterday, ‘got a bit overwhelmed.”

Your anxious laugh shone through as you offered a hand to Wally for a handshake,

“Ha. Ha, Do not worry about it,”

He shook your hand probably the softest anyone in this town yet, as if he was scared you would shatter if he put the slightest pressure into the handshake.

You couldn't help but smile at his automatic-sounding laugh, he was quite an odd fellow, you imagine if he was taller it would have come off as creepy, however, you can comfortably punt him at this height.

“ You guys in the mood for Biscuits? I invited Eddie and Frank so they will be over soon!”

“ Sounds lovely Barnaby, I would love to!”

Howdy being the kind and considerate soul he was turned to you,

“Whaddya say Y/N?”

“Sure! I wouldn't mind some biscuits!” … You hoped they weren't dog treats.

—------------------------------------

…mmm you sure did love dog treats.

You sat on Barnaby's comfortable sofa while fiddling with an iced cookie he handed you a while ago, Howdy and Barnaby seemed to reserve themselves to a conversation in the kitchen,

Leaving you with Wally.

“...So Wally,”

His head practically snapped over to make eye contact with you, you could have sworn his smile grew a little wider too,

Shaking off the weird tension you continued,

“How long have you lived here?”

“my, what a silly question friend, i have lived here for as long as i can remember!”

… okay that totally was not weird at all.

“You’ve never lived anywhere else? What about your family? Surely you lived with your mom and dad before moving here?”

Wally scooted forward to grab his tea off of the coffee table in front of the two of you, stirring his sugar as he continued,

“why would I need to move friend? its perfect here!

Mmm okay, that was enough talking to Wally you decided, As much as he was a charming fellow he was starting to creep you out a bit, and that staring habit of his provided no comfort.

It wasn't long before Eddie and Frank arrived as well, a barking doorbell could be heard resounding throughout the house before Barnaby practically charged at the door to let them in,

“Good to see you Y/N!” Eddie began, friendly as ever. You set your biscuit down on the table to greet him properly,

“Good to see you too Eddie!” You turned to see the same grey puppet from yesterday,

“And you must be Frank,”

You really thought you were being polite but you guessed Frank wasn't much of a talker…

Or he was just too busy trying to classify you in one of his books he had brought, Eddie having to nudge him with his elbow to elicit a proper hello.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” He was very brief and simple with his greeting before going back to looking you up and down, and back at his book.

His voice definitely matched his nerdy outfit, he sounded like a boy you would have teased in elementary, you would never tell him that though.

“What genus are you?”

… “what..?”

You were properly confused, but at least he was very straightforward with his curiosity, you much ‘preferred this over being stared at’ you thought as you glanced at Wally.

After that… question, which you could not answer for the life of you, You all found a spot on Barnaby's couch or on one of his various chairs,

With all eyes on you, you took a deep breath preparing yourself for the bombardment of questions that would surely be shuttled your way.

Just as Frank began to pull out his book to question you, (was that a list??)

You all heard a frantic knocking at the door, Barnaby once again practically charging through the door to let in whoever was there,

Whoever it was snuck past Barnaby and made a straight beeline to where you were seated, She looked the most human out of the group, even compared to Eddie, except for the horns that poked out of her well-kept hair.

“oh, i forgot to mention i invited Julie, sorry barnaby,”

….You where beginning to really dislike Wally

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

As always my Ao3 has more Active Updates with this Story! Expect Chapter 5 to be posted sometime Tonight or Tomorrow!

~Till next time ! ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

#howdy pillar x reader #howdy pillar #wally darling #wally darling x reader #frank frankly #eddie dear #barnaby b beagle #reader x everyone #welcome home #romantic or platonic!#ao3 #updates #hurt/comfort #cute moments #i love howdy #Welcome home #Welcome home Neighbor

140 notes · View notes