#The pictures are different sizes or something so when I put them into my post magica gets decapitated by the picture frame help

[juletheghoul]

educational

a/n: I still have so many asks for this man, and I have not forgotten them! Thank you to everyone who voted, to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog on my posts. You have no idea how you all have reinvigorated my love for writing, a million hugs and cuddles for all of you. I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! This isn't beta'd, barely proofread. Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The sun was oppressive. It beat down with a vengeance and the fan in your hand did nothing to alleviate the waves of heat permeating the market. You had half a mind to head right back to the villa, to ask Marcus to bring you on another day when you could focus on anything other than the drops of sweat sliding down your spine, making your new robes stick to your skin. Or the way the stiff leather sandals on your feet rubbed your ankles raw. 

Running back to the villa didn’t seem right however, it tasted too much of defeat, of a refusal to accept your new place in this world and the thought of your General, your husband being disappointed in your inability to shop for yourself put eels into your belly. Gritting your teeth, you continued your hunt for the things you needed. 

“What about this Domina?” Your new attendant, a girl a few years younger than you had been when you’d first joined his house pointed at a blessedly covered stall, golden trinkets glittering where the sun poked through gaps in the covering catching your eye. 

“Let us look.” You smiled, making your way over. There you found a lovely perfumed oil for your skin, at a fairly reasonable price. You also found some of the incense Marcus liked, and a new brush for his hair. You bought them, even though he had sent you with the intent to buy things for yourself. With your purchases made and in the hands of your guards you decided to finally return home, when another stall caught your eye. Gauzy sheer linens covered most of it but when the warm breeze blew them aside, glittering jewels flashed. 

The woman running the stall smiled when you entered, she had streaks of grey in her hair, lovely oiled skin and eyes as dark as night. 

Opals with fire caught inside them hung on golden racks, rubies the size of walnuts, emeralds as green as fresh laurel leaves glittered, all of them entrancing you enough to pull your hands out to touch them. 

“With your skin, those would look lovely.” She walked over, pulling dark blue sapphire earrings from their place on her wall and holding them to your ears. “Beautiful.”

“They are gorgeous, I must admit.” Marcus had told you to buy whatever you wanted, had given you enough coin to splurge but you hesitated. Your eyes fell to a small book on a shelf, a picture of a man and a woman on the cover. 

“That is… very educational. Especially for a married woman.” She pulled the book off the shelf, placing it into your hands for you to peruse. The contents made you gasp. It was a guide book, a guide for the art of love. The art of copulation. There were diagrams, positions to try, all manner of things you’d never even thought of. 

Heat rushed to your face, the thought of showing Marcus, of trying them with him made the heat grow and spread to the place between your thighs. 

“You must have it, I have no doubt your husband will enjoy it, you as well.” She winked and you laughed a nervous little laugh, nodding conspiratorially. 

“You should adorn yourself for him, something glittering, something precious.” She gestured to the jewels once more and you bit your lip, wondering what to choose until you saw what looked to be a belt of different coloured gems. 

“I like this–is it for my waist?” You slid your fingers across it. 

“That would be perfect, not just your waist my lady.” She undid the clasps and arranged it, draping it onto your body. “Usually the ladies wear them over a simple robe to elevate it, but I think it would look just as beautiful against the skin, if you take my meaning.” You could see it, the top part of it like a necklace, with a long line of gems between your breasts leading down to connect with another line of it like a belt. 

With an ache for him, and a considerably lighter purse, you left with your purchases and made your way home once more. 

-

He was occupied, held up in his study with representatives from the Emperor, a senator and a whole host of others taking up his time with important matters. You left him to it, and busied yourself with your own preparations.

The tub was steaming and fragrant when you submerged yourself. Dried flowers and sweet smelling oils swirling with every movement, all manner of different elements coming together to soften your skin and make you shine for him. Thoughts of what he would think of your book fill your mind as you cleanse yourself of the day, musings about what he might choose pull at the corners of your lips as you run the clean washcloth across the expanse of your chest and thighs.

You oil your skin once out of the tub, arrange your hair and adorn yourself with jewels. Golden bracelets and anklets he’d gifted you on your wedding night, an armband shaped like a snake, earrings that dangle and trap the light when you move, the special body chain from the stand. You feel like a goddess, like a priestess readying yourself for worship. 

By the time he comes to bed the need, the arousal is fierce enough to make your hands shake. 

“Apologies my love, I was hoping to have been done sooner but—“ he catches sight of you then, sprawled out on the bed, an airy robe leaving nothing to the imagination, the small book in your hands. His eyes devour you, robbing him of his words, making your heart race.

“I have something for you, something for us.” You rise, exaggerating the swing in your hips with every step you take towards him. Your adornments jingle, a pleasant sound rings with every stride. 

“Do you now?” He licks his lips, and presses his palm to his growing bulge at the sight of you. “I have something for you too, growing stiff and aching.” His hand reaches for you as you get closer, pulling you into his embrace. 

“I do not doubt that.” You laugh, pressing your palms to his chest to keep him from pushing you onto your bed.

“I would very much like to give it to you, nice and deep.” His eyes are so lust blown that the warm brown is now a cold black. A moan escapes at his words, at the feel of his kiss on your throat.

“First, I would like you to look through the book I bought today.” He frowns, confused at the apparent shift. “I believe it could be very educational for us.”

If you weren’t so aroused, so excited to experiment you might have laughed at his expression. Naked shock was all you could see on his face. Never, in all your years within the villa, within his presence had you ever rendered him speechless before. The effect is titillating.

Wordlessly he peruses the pages, cheeks flushing, attention rapt at the diagrams and instructions shown within.

“Gods above.” Your smile deepens at the low whisper of his voice, nerves fraying with anticipation. 

“I am particularly curious about this one.” With trembling hands, you flip the pages to a certain diagram, where the woman is sitting on the man's lap but facing away, her legs closed tightly between his legs underneath her. The thought of Marcus having you that way floods your body with heat. His mouth at your ear, his hands free to slip between your legs or hold onto the weight of your breasts. 

Silently he studies the book, eyes intent. His quiet intensity fills the air between you, it makes you wring your hands with nervous anticipation, almost makes you wonder if you’ve gone too far. Your nerves fray the longer he stares, the old fear of disappointing or upsetting him creeps up your spine, until he smiles and licks his lip. 

“You, my love, continue to surprise me.” He closes the book and sets it aside. 

“Do I?” You take his hand in yours, and press it to your lips, desperate for his approval and for his love.

“Oh yes. Just when I think I cannot be any more fortunate, you spoil me and show me another facet of your love.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to stand between his spread legs at the edge of your bed, pulling the robe off to expose your nakedness.

“Look at you.” His palms slide from the sides of your thighs past your hips where they touch the jewels that adorn your waist. Up, up, up until his thumbs flick at your nipples. 

“You are yourself, my most precious jewel. So beautiful–” He presses his face to your breast, his lips gliding across your skin between words, “-kind, adventurous and brave, sweet as summer fruit,” he skims his nose over the top of your breast before licking at the stiff peak. With a sigh you hold him close, fingernails scratching at his neck, slipping through the fine grey waves, cradling his head close. 

Your heart races as he pours his love onto you, any and all fears are quieted to nothing under the silky slip of his palms against your back. His mouth forms a tight seal around your nipple, enough that it makes you gasp. His smile is predatory, confident and it makes you laugh; half nervous, half exhilarated. 

Your breasts shine with the oil, and his spit when he lets go. You take the opportunity to pull his robes up and off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his manhood, hard and leaking for you. 

“Turn around.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, deep and commanding, irrefutable. His lips press to your shoulder, moving down to your lower back, you squeal in shock and delight to feel his teeth on the meat of your ass. 

“I could devour you whole, do you know that?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

The arousal is enough to choke you, enough to ease the glide of himself against your sex. Butterflies swarm as he pulls you back, guiding his own weeping tip to the tight fist of your cunt until you sink, slowly onto him. You gasp at just how deep, just how full you feel like this. 

“Gods above, woman.” His grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise, his voice strangled in your ear.

It is so much better than you had imagined.

His thighs bracket yours as you adjust to the fullness, slick dribbles out of you and drenches his lap when his hands do exactly as you hoped they might. With deft fingers he pinches and pulls at your sensitive nipples, teasing the peaks mercilessly as you begin a tentative bounce on his lap.

“Is this how you wanted it?” His breath tickles your neck, painting your skin in gooseflesh. 

“Yes, yes Marcus, just like this-“ your head falls back onto his shoulder, the arousal so fierce it burns through you, sets your heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, trapped in the cage of your ribs. 

“Take it, take your pleasure from me my love, ride this cock—“ he bucks up, pulling a pained moan from somewhere inside you. 

“That’s it, you can do it, milk my fucking cock.” His arm tightens around your middle and you can feel the jewels pinching at your skin, the edge of pain only heightens the pleasure coursing through your veins, ripping a swathe through your body in the shape of him, always him. 

Thick fingers force their way between the tight press of your thighs, pinching at your swollen clit and it’s almost too much. Sweat beads in your hairline, slips between your bodies as you roll your hips harder, clenching around him with every tight bounce. 

There are no more words, only the harsh pant of his breath in your ear, the slick, vulgar sound of your wet arousal; the whimpering heralding your climax. 

His fingers leave your clit and you whine, the demand for them to return on the tip of your tongue but he quells it, pressing those same fingers into your mouth. He takes the saliva from your mouth, and returns his fingers to their task. The slip is just right and with a silent scream you freeze, squeezing him tight enough for him to hiss, tight enough to do just as he wanted and milk him for all he’s worth.

His grip around your middle softens, the jewels have left indents in his skin as well as yours, you pull his arm up to press your lips to it. 

Once the blood has settled and you’ve caught your breath, you pull away from him, turning to settle in his lap again only this time facing him. 

His expression is pure bliss, flushed with exertion and smiling with the ghost of his climax still painting his features. 

“I must send you to the market more often, spoil you as you spoil me.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck just as his wrap tightly around your waist.

“So you are pleased with my purchase then?” Your lips press to his mouth, his cheek, the little hairless spot on his chin, your favourite constellation to map out. 

“I am more than pleased with it, but I must study it in depth. So many things to try, so many lessons for us to learn from this book, hmm?” He skims his nose across the column of your throat, smiling into your skin as your heart races for him even with your pleasure still coursing through you. 

“…And you know that I am a quick learner, my love.”

-

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[lailau7904]

So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?

well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!

where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening

The Logo

For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:

Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)

(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)

How did we even get here?

Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!

Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.

On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.

The first sign of Trouble

So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?

It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.

No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?

Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:

(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)

It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.

Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."

Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.

What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.

(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)

Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then

Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.

Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.

Here's the result:

Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.

I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.

It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.

And that's when I noticed.

(pictured above; my genuine reaction)

There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)

I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)

But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.

thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?

I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.

Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.

The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.

It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.

HOOOOOW

Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.

Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.

what the fuck is THAT?

Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.

Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.

I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.

i'm loosing my mind

Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?

Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.

guys. please.

Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.

Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.

As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!

this is just embarrasing for you.

something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc

It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.

So let's review;

to sum it up,

i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?

Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.

THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT

none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE

I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:

Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.

yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.

[cheonstapes]

miguel o'hara stars in... 'NERD!MIGUEL STARTS AN ONLYFANS' (ง ื▿ ื)ว

a/n~ this popped in my head so quick and i thought i was gonna combust if i didn’t start writng then and there٩( ᐛ )و once again all creds to @nymphomatique 💗

part 2

summary; your nerdy almost-boyfriend starts an onlyfans without you knowing.

wc; 1.6k

pairings; nerd!miguel o'hara x rich!fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, onlyfans, miguel being embarrassed, m!masturbation, panty kink, humiliation kink, sub!miguel pretending to be a dom, miguel being obsessed with reader (//∇//), dom!reader, reader being possessive (as you should), the woman was too stunned to speak, paint me like one of your french girls, nawt proofread - i was half asleep

ok,, nerd! miguel with a secret onlyfans that he hides from you.

because he’s lowkey embarrassed 

because he wants you to find it and punish him for sharing what’s yours with others

on top of that, he’s one of the top accounts on the site. i mean it’s not a surprise- he’s still hot as fuck. extremely tall, chiseled body, thick thighs, sexy face, big dick- he’s quite literally perfect, and he knows you know that. 

he only started it because of you, anyway. the compliments you whisper in his ears, telling him how beautiful he is, how much you love his body, he never realised how fine he actually is. so one day whilst he was sitting in your dorm, finishing up on of your reports, he decided he would put his body to good use. you were out for the night, and you probably wouldn’t come back until the next morning so he had all the time in the world. 

he scrolled through a few pics you took of him on your phone, but something was bugging him. he looked so…submissive in them. yeah, of course he enjoyed being submissive - but only for you. the idea of other people seeing him in a way that’s reserved for you and you only giving him a strange feeling in his chest. miguel was a virgin before he met you though, so being submissive was really all he knew. being dominant felt wrong, but he was willing to give it a try.

feeling a surge of confidence, he stood up from your desk, stripping himself of his shirt, leaving him clad in his loose sweats. he sat on your queen sized bed, scooting himself up to the headboard. he really was a tall motherfucker though, long legs dangling off the edges of your fluffy mattress. he props one leg up, resting his elbow against it as he angles the camera down towards his chest, bulging muscles highlighted by your warm fairy lights.

he takes pic after pic, different angles and positions around your room even using some of your toys as props. but in all of those pictures, he never showed his face - that’s for you, and nothing can change that. instead, he offered his followers a view of his plump lips, pulled into a lazy grin in every photo. 

a few months pass and he’s been racking up followers like crazy, all the money he makes - he spends on you, of course, buying you bags, clothes, shoes, anything his pretty mommy desires. you don’t question where he was getting all that money from, miguel also came from a pretty wealthy family - he did still spend as much of his parents money on you as he could.

eventually, he was in the top 3 creators of the site. he started to get a bit more raunchy with his posts, after that, he blew up like crazy. the constant *pings*! from his phone, however, was a means for suspicion. since when was your little loser of a boyfriend, well he’s not your boyfriend yet, but since when was he popular? like, people only know who he is because of you, and still nothing really changed since you claimed him as yours - so what’s with this sudden boost in attention he’s receiving?

he sits across from you, at your desk again, as you glare holes into his back from your plush bed. he’s smiling at his phone, the screen hidden from your view and you can only assume the worst. he’s talking to other bitches. everyone knew you were possessive, but when it comes to miguel? that’s a whole ‘nother situation. you wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who even thought about fucking around with your miguel. having connections is a real blessing.

your tongue clicks in annoyance, voice cutting through the comfortable silence in the room as you call out to him. “miguel, give me your phone.” you hold a hand out towards him, unmoving as your face remains devoid of emotion - although your twitching eyebrow tells a lot. he looks up at you immediately, pushing his frames back up his face. “w-what d’you need my phone f-for?” it was a valid question in any other circumstance, but this wasn’t any other circumstance. this was your obedient, not so little, miguel questioning you.

your brows raise, an amused scoff leaving your glossy lisp. you raise from the bed, strutting over to him as you snatch his phone from his hand. “the fuck is up with this attitude, hm? i don’t remember teachin’ you to be a little brat.” you sneer down at him, he was pathetic, really. face flushing as he realised his mistake, stumbling over his words and whimpering soft pleas of forgiveness. “shut it.” you don’t spare him another glance, gripping his phone as you sit back on your bed, crossing your legs.

unlocking his phone was easy, his password is your birthday - you could smile at how cutely obsessed with you he is but you were too pissed off at the moment. and of course, his lock screen and wallpaper is a picture of you, the same with his instagram pfp as you scroll through his chats. everything was weirdly innocent. there were only brief dm’s between him and what seemed like old friends and some current friends you didn’t even know he had, even his snapchat was completely barren.

you double, even triple checked his socials - not even a finsta in sight. with a deep sigh, you give up. of course you weren’t going to say out loud that you were overthinking but- oh? that stupid notification sound again. you quickly looked down at his phone again, seeing a notification from twitter. you completely forgot about it - seeing as it’s not even fucking called twitter anymore. 

clicking on it, your eyes widen in surprise. this whole account was a complete 360 from the miguel that grovels at your feet on a daily basis. the most teasingly sexy posts litter his feed - promising all that and more if you just clicked on the link in his bio, and that you did. miguel was watching you nervously the whole time, thinking the worst at your silent reactions. he moves to stand, hoping that just maybe he can get his phone back. “sit the fuck down.” and he sits.

what a fucking slut. your good little boy, in all these different positions, fooling his fans into thinking he’s some strong, sexy, dom. getting off in your bed, calling his fans all the nasty names you call him. the whole situation was just so funny to you. these poor people, they didn’t know how much their favourite daddy dom was in fact a little bitch, for you and you only. 

there was a part of you that was happy seeing have so much confidence, as much as you want to keep him all to yourself. it was kinda hot, him trying to act all dominant. you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your cunt throb, biting your lips as you scroll deeper, and deeper. one post in particular caught your eyes, though. it was a video, the lighting was darker than the others but his body was just as clear. you put the volume all the way up, snickering at miguel’s frightened gasp behind you.

you can see why this post had so many likes now, cause god was it sexy. miguel laid on your bed, his face not visible, chest on display as he lightly ran his strong hands up and down his body, mumbling deep praises to his fans about how ‘good’ they are for him, how well he could fuck his pretty little sluts, how they probably wish they were there with him. who wouldn’t? his fat cock was drizzled in lube, sticky, hard, and leaking all over his hand. it rested on his stomach, smearing pre all over his happy trail, as he traced a thick finger along the throbbing veins. 

his moans where still just like you knew them to be, whiny and breathy, small whimpers leaking through his spit soaked lips. his hand worked himself faster, pumping up and down just like you do, skimming over his tip in the same way you do. after all, you’re the only one who knows how to use him. it feels like he edges himself forever. constantly stopping and starting, gripping onto his cock tightly to stop himself from exploding all over himself.

he pants heavily, growling softly as he pulls something up out of frame, a small black lacy thong. your black lacy thong, the same one you had on right now. he wrapped it around his aching cock, rubbing his tip along the crotch before rapidly fucking himself into the fabric. he doesn’t last long though, the thong smelt like you, he had only taken it a few minutes before he started filming - digging through your dirty laundry like some depraved perv to find the perfect pair.

only after a couple quick pumps did he spill all over the pretty fabric, his mouth hung open, chest shimmering with sweat. he brought the soiled panties to his mouth, sensually licking off his own cum before shooting a teasing smile at the camera - the video ending. you couldn’t even speak, slowly turning around to face him, his head hanging down in shame. 

oh, you were gonna make sure he learnt his lesson. his fans too.

to be continued…

- i want his balls jn my mouf

[rekino2114]

Giving the paldea girls a plushie of their ace pokemon

A/n:my first pokemon post and I decided to do that with my personal favorite group of girls

Nemona

Nemona is always in a good mood whenever she's around you so imagine how she reacted when you randomly handed her an adorable plushie of the starter she chose

Her eyes starts sparkling and she loudly gasps before hugging you so tightly that you almost can't breathe and peppering your face in kisses while constantly saying thank you

She constantly shows it off to everyone in the friend group much to everyone else's annoyance, arven has to remind her that this is the third time she brought up the plushie.....today

She definitely asks you if you can make a plushie of your own starter so you can pretend to make them battle like children do with action figures.......she knows you could just use the actual pokemons but she doesn't care

"......wait...what?......OH MY GOD! THAT'S THE MOST ADORABLE THING EVER! thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, do you think you could make one of your starter too? You know so we can make them battle"

Penny

One day she walked in her dorm just to see plushies of all of her eevelutions slumped on her bed, she sighed and immediately knew it was you

Even if she might not look super thrilled to have them, not really having too much of a reaction, she actually really loves them

Sometimes she sleeps while hugging one of them or just being surrounded by every single one, whenever you're not available to cuddle (or she's just too embarrassed to ask) she grabs one of them and hugs it since they're really soft and fluffy (plus they smell like you)

Whenever you have to go away for a long time for whatever reason she gives you the plushie of your favorite eevelution so you can remember her by

"Those plushies in my bed.....I knew that was you.....*blushes* n-no I like them they're really cute and fluffy.....just thank you for taking the time to make something like this for me"

Iono

Iono's brain short-circuits the moment you showed her a giant bellibolt plushie, and then when you told her it was for her, she completely stopped thinking and just started hugging you and thanking you, spending basically the rest of the day like this

She takes so many pictures of it, her phone gallery is full of dozens of photos of the plushie in all different angles for absolutely no reason other than "I like it so much I wanna look at it even when it's not near me" she especially loves the pictures of you of her hugging or standing on the plushie

Speaking of, she loves just taking naps on it. It's big enough to sleep on, and she sometimes drags you there to nap together, even if it's not big enough for two people so you often have to just drag her to bed instead

She always shows it off on her streams and loves it when her viewers ask about it or say how cute it looks, it's more excuses to talk about you after all

"Oh yeah, that bellibolt plushie is new! It's something my amazing wonderful and super beautiful partner gave me, ahh y/n just is the absolute best"

Rika

She smirks the moment she sees you handing her a life-sized clodsire plushie. She takes it and looks at it before looking back at you and just starting to make out

It's a plushie of her favorite pokemon made by her favorite person on the planet she absolutely adores it and will treasure it forever

The first thing she did was show it off to the rest of the elite four whenever they met up again, Larry didn't care at all, Hassel just told her how good you were for each other but poppy absolutely loved it and asked rika if she could play with it, which she happily gave it to her

Sometimes she just puts it on top of her head like a hat for no reason, you don't know why she does it but she looks cute with it

"Wow, that's super cute, it's for me? Seriously? Thanks so much cutie, you know I said it was really cute but now that I think about it it comes nowhere close to its creator"

Dendra

At first she can't believe that you made a plushie of hariyama just for her, but when you confirmed it she couldn't hold her excitement in and tacked you to the ground with a hug

Whenever she showed it to tulip, her friend wanted to give the plushie a makeover for some reason, but dendra didn't let her since you made it, and it would have been disrespectful to her love

One time she decided to show it to her class, mostly to tell them how amazing you were, and her students asked her if they could pet it and play with it, which she reluctantly obligated to, she still made sure they wouldn't mess it up in any way though

One time you found her exhausted sleeping on the couch while hugging the plushie and you thought it was adorable so you took a picture of it (she blushed a lot when you showed it to her)

"An hariyama plushie.....j-just for me?...you made it! Like with your hands?...o-oh my God thank you so much, it looks even more beautiful now that I know you made it"

[readychilledwine]

Size Kink

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)

What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.

💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

As always NSFW below the cut

Azriel x short!reader

Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching

A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙

Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠

Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.

You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.

At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.

He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.

Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.

“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.

Offering to help you was a mistake.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.

He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.

It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.

Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”

You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.

The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.

Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.

Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.

He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.

You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.

And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”

He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”

He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”

That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”

You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”

You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.

You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”

The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.

You may have been biting off more than you could chew.

But fuck it.

You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?

You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”

“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”

That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.

You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.

Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”

He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”

You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.

He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.

He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.

Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”

He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.

He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.

He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.

Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.

He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.

A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”

You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.

It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.

“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”

You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”

Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.

A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.

Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”

“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.

Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb  

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[dear-ao3]

how to get f1 driver cards, a guide for mclaren, mercedes and williams (more to come)

im going to start by saying that there is a high high chance not everything on this is accurate. for some reason this is a stupidly complex process and i am just trying my best :)

what are driver cards? every year (most) teams have cards made of their drivers with their pictures and sometimes stats and fun facts, etc. they change every year and are collectible. theyre free, technically, as long as you pay for the postage.

ive sent away for some of them before, and those are the teams i have included as i know these ones work. will add more teams on as i attempt others this year.

MERCEDES

objectively this is the easiest one to get. you fill out an online form and if you are lucky you will get cards sent to you. the form is live for the 2025 cards as of me posting this.

beware: the address form is formatted for UK addresses only for some reason. if you are trying to send to the US with an address that is two lines (ie, a street address with an apartment number or a po box) there is a good chance it wont work. i have gotten it to work for street addresses only (both attempts to have them sent to an apartment address failed). this one also took the longest, several months.

all other teams require a double envelope, stamp and letter situation.

very basically, you address an envelope to the team and put yourself as the return address. it needs a stamp (domestic if the team is in your country, international if it is not)

write a letter to the team, something along the lines of "dear x team, i am a big fan of you and your drivers x and y and i like watching you / rooting for you for xyz reasoning (etc etc). i was wondering if i could get the 20xx drivers cards? thanks (name)." it doesnt have to be super fancy.

put this letter in the envelope along with another a5 size folded envelope addressed to yourself (this is the envelope that the team will send your cards in, make sure it is the right size and also has your correct address.

the a5 envelope also needs a stamp and here is where it gets a little tricky. if the team is based in the same country you are you use a domestic stamp. if you are Not in the same country as the team this is the terribly fun (read: tricky) part.

you can either include the pounds/euros needed to buy a stamp in the envelope or you can purchase an international stamp from that country and use that. i have gone the stamp route before (ordered royal mail stamps off of British amazon) and it worked. i put five second class barcoded stamps on each envelope and they came back to me okay. (could also use first class stamps, i dont remember why i ended up choosing the second class ones) (you have to check the stamp prices and make sure that the total stamp costs equal how much it costs to send a letter internationally (second class stamps are 85p as of me writing this and it costs 2.80 pounds to mail a letter internationally from the uk to the us specifically (all of this is findable on the royal mail site) so i would put 4 or 5 stamps to be safe per envelope in case stamp prices rise again)

put that whole folded envelope and your letter in your addressed envelope to the team and mail it out.

MCLAREN

they seem to be pretty responsive. i got my card for mclaren within i think 2 or 3 months. be extra careful when addressing your envelopes to the uk, the seven letter/ number combination is the most important and should be the most legible thing. i think this is formatted correctly. (again, im from the us. uk addresses confuse the hell out of me)

address:

FAO: Autograph Cards McLaren Technology Centre Chertsey Road Woking GU21 4YH UK

WILLIAMS

again, they were pretty responsive. i think i got mine in 2 or 3 months. my envelope was the wrong size for this team but they sent me the cards anyway in a different size envelope. again, really make sure that your seven number/letter thing is clear. there both a O and 0 in it so i would put a slash through the 0.

address:

Fan Mail Williams Grand Prix Engineering Grove Wantage Oxfordshire OX12 0DQ UK

fun little note: my sister and i both sent away for mclaren and williams last year. despite them having the Exact Same Addresses and being sent from The Exact Same Post Office on the Exact Same Day, my mclaren one was returned to sender for the reason unable to be delivered. my sister got her mclaren card in the mail the next week. and i got my williams card but my sisters got returned to sender for the reason of unable to be delivered. i have absolutely no idea why. not remotely. i resent both of them and had no problems the second time around.

good luck. its kinda challenging but it is fun. im going to try to send off for more this year so ill provide more advice once i figure it out but as for now, i know these ones work. i would wait until the start of the season to mail any requests, though fill out the mercedes one sooner if you want that :)

and, proof that i got my driver cards and im not just making this up:

[yanderenightmare]

can we have more yan DEKU who terrorises his exgirlfriend? like, he sends her creepy letters and gifts, without mentioning it's him of course, scaring her straight back into his arms??

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: yandere, hints of dubcon/noncon, size difference, stalker, mental abuse

Green Paisley

You’d felt watched lately, and things were rarely where you remembered putting them. But thinking it was all in your head, you’d ignored it until you received the first gifts and saw the pictures. Eyes peeled while reading the letter with a shaky hand covering your mouth, you dropped everything on the steps to your apartment when quickly reaching for your phone.

I wasn’t going to write you any letters. I was happy just watching because I knew you were already spoken for. But I’ve noticed that the green-haired guy hasn’t come over lately, and I feel so sad knowing you’re home all alone…

You contact the police, but all they tell you is to invest in a new alarm system. After a little crying at the station, they show you enough sympathy to post a squad car in your neighborhood – but all in all, you’d say they didn’t seem very convinced.

That green-haired guy is a fucking moron. If you were mine, I would never let you go. I would take care of you, much better than he ever could. I would give you only the prettiest gifts and call you only the sweetest names. I’d treat you how someone like you deserves to be treated. Keep you safe and sound and happy to be mine…

You read the stalker’s letter again while browsing ways to upgrade your security – your thumb in your mouth, nail bending where you chewed on it – eyes panning over the photos that came in the box. Taken through the window – some innocent enough, candid pictures of you cooking in the kitchen or watching a movie on the couch. 

Others were not so innocent.

Your nail broke between your teeth as you looked at the revealing pics of you in your bedroom – wearing nothing but flimsy underwear. 

You looked back to the screen and continued scrolling through deals – but more than that, you were trying to distract yourself from what you really wanted to do…

Izuku had always been a source of comfort when it came to safety, and you know he’d come if you called, but since you broke up with him only a couple of months ago it seemed too selfish to ask. Besides, the reasons you broke things off were all because of his derogatory tendencies, and to beg him over because of something like this would only prove his point.

You couldn’t call him over. He’d see it as a win, and you’d decided you wouldn’t lose to his patronizing ways any longer. You needed to do this on your own – without his help.

You had to wait through the weekend until Monday to call a guy. A new box came both days, each one more terrifying than the last. But after installing a new alarm system you felt a little safer.

But the next box stripped that safety away.

I know I must be creeping you out. After all, you have no idea who I am, whereas I know you so intimately. But you shouldn’t feel scared. I would never hurt you. My gift to you today is proof of that.

P.S. Security systems aren’t enough to keep me away from you. 

Beneath the letters were more pictures of you – this time sleeping – inside the house. 

You fell apart – caving in, calling Izuku in tears, begging him to come over in a hurry. “Izu- please, please, please come home-”

He’s sitting on your couch only a curt fifteen minutes later, a tight arm around your midriff, holding you close for comfort while you sobbed against his chest – a furl deepened his brows while reading, holding your stalker’s letters in the other hand with green eyes narrowing for every sentence he finished.

I dream of making you mine. As I watch you sleep, I wonder what you dream of. You look so lonely lying there. Maybe if I keep you company, you’ll start dreaming of me too.

“How many of these have you received?” He questioned when done, looking around at the gift wrap on the floor, green-paisley-patterned, and the several boxes filled with crepe and untouched pieces of what looked like different arrangements of lingerie, candy, and sex toys.

“Four, I think…” You muffled against his tear-soaked shirt, clinging to him with your legs tucked onto his lap.

“Four? Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He echoed, looking down at you with heavy curls shadowing his eyes.

You looked up at him through the blur, lip sucked between your teeth before answering. “I- I went to the police-”

“The police? You went to the police instead of calling me?” He cut you off harshly, making you flinch.

“I-I-” You stuttered, crying, and he shook from his misplaced anger and took your face in his palms.

“Shh-sh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He apologized with a kiss on your forehead before pulling you close to his chest again. “It’s just… this is exactly what I warned you about. You should have called me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, calming down to the warm strokes his large hand smoothed across your back.

“Shh- it's okay… I’m here now… and I'm not gonna let any sicko touch you. I promise.” He soothed – his voice a calm and strong anchor for you to grip onto. “Come, I’ll help you pack a bag. You’ll sleep at my place tonight.”

“Okay…” You sniffle. “Thank you.”

He drove with only one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your lap, holding your hand – your bag by your feet – and you’re reminded of the first days you started dating. Sleepovers and overnight bags – his hand between your thighs on the drive.

His new place is bigger than the last – like something out of a magazine. Modern and simplistic – a little too clean, maybe, but very stylish. 

You knew he’d been climbing the ranks a couple of spots a week since you broke up with him, but you hadn’t known the new paychecks could afford something like this. It made you feel a little guilty thinking about it, then a little embarrassed, causing you to flush – standing there in guest slippers, bag in hand – your presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

“You hungry?” He asked, shaking you out of your meekness, where you looked up with a small nod and a slight hum.

He smiled, turning to the kitchen. You were so cute.

At dinner, it almost feels like old times. Izuku plays with your legs under the table even though you give him a look. He gets you to giggle after a while, surrendering to his hopeless flirting. You help him carry the dishes after you’ve finished – and even though he has a washer now, you slip right into that old routine and start filling the sink with warm water and soap. And then you stand there, the two of you – shoulder to elbow, and your chest flutters, wondering if he was always that tall.

You blushed and ducked your head, not wanting him to see you getting so flustered. You pretended to be throwing some scraps in the trash and that's when your eyes caught hold of it.

Green paisley.

You’re stunned for a moment. Still crouched down, your head hovering over the trash – face blank, body still.

“You weren’t meant to see that.” Came a voice.

Izuku stood next to you. Washcloth in hand, dripping soapsuds on the floor.

You’re breath shivers in your throat, and you drop to the ground with a gulp, looking up at him – now with building fear accenting your still shocked expression.

You blink a couple of times, trying to make sense of it but getting nowhere. “W-why?” Left you then, along with sudden tears that started slipping down your cheeks.

And it really was the only question you had. Why would he do this? Why would he torment you like that? Why would he-

“’Cause you left… And I needed a way to get you back.”

You cringed. Feeling sick – almost sick enough to turn around and throw up the entire dinner in the trashcan, all over that stupid green paisley print. But you didn’t. “You’re pathetic.” – is what you said instead.

You got up from the floor. Upset tears still rolled down your face, but you were mostly just pissed – kicking off your guest slippers, you sat down atop the shoe bench and started doing your laces.

“I’m leaving. Don’t call me. If I ever see you near my place, I’m calling the cops.” You uttered, grabbing your bag before yanking the door handle.

It didn’t budge – some strange new type of locking mechanism, which really made no sense to have on the inside.

“I’m going home, Izuku. Unlock the door.” You huffed, turning around to look at him sourly, only he’d approached you all too silently – making you gasp to see him standing right behind you.

“You’re not going anywhere…”

You’re taken to the bed, kicking and screaming – then pinned by hands thrice the size of your own beneath the big-boned body they belonged to. And now you’re really feeling scared.

Before, it had been such a distant threat – something you could pretend wasn’t there for most of the day and otherwise deal with by the soothing presence of a weapon in your house or a quick phone call to the police. But now – there was no comfort to be found anywhere.

“Shh, baby~ don’t fuss. It’s better this way.” He tried soothing, holding your fighting wrists tightly above your head in one fist. The other kept your lips shut, muffling all screams. Barring your thrashing legs beneath his own. “You need me- you couldn’t even last a single week without calling me.” He justified, hunched over you with his mouth only an inch above the knuckles draping your mouth. “But that’s alright, I don’t mind it. I always planned on taking care of you.” He cooed, rubbing his nose sweetly against yours despite you trying to shake away from it. 

You felt something rub against your thigh, and you knew all too well what it was. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks, facing the next events.

But Izuku shared none of your discomforts, rocking the bump against you with a moan slipping into his rant. “You like the new place I got, don’t you? You can stay in all day- I’d give you all you’d ever need or want- you’d be so comfortable you wouldn’t ever even want to leave-”

He sounded just like the letters.

And where it had ached you to know that he’d been the one to write them all… now it terrified you to understand how he’d meant every last word of it, too.

[desultory-novice]

...Did everyone Read The Announcement Post Very Carefully?

That's right. Kirby of the Stars: The Magic Crystal and The Mysterious Maze was my "A.P.R.I.L. F.O.O.L.S" joke! Sorry! XD

It started at the end of January when I remembered that I'd made a joke grouping of the four Dream Friends that get consistently left out of the novels: Marx, Adeleine, Ribbon, and Dark Meta Knight. I wanted to do something special for them and, partly inspired by Jojo's roleswap cover emulating the FL novels, I thought to make a fake novel cover just for MY forgotten favorites! Gryll and the Fairy Queen are a bonus, because if I was doing this, I would go all out!

I took a huge amount of reference photos, both from the novels and from Tau and Poto's "Find Kirby" books (the only place they've ever drawn Gryll! The Fairy Queen I referenced from Wave 2's ending picture in Star Allies - that's why her crown looks slightly different. Speaking of, Ripple Star Castle (?) is WEIRD looking, y'all!)

At ~40 hours~ of sketching, drawing, painting, refining, trying to get those distinctive Kirby novel touches right (don't get me started on emulating the cover's texture. I was a dumb bunny and remade it by HAND out of a clean scrap about the size of Kirby's body!) this was an immense challenge and the most time I’ve ever put into any illustration, but it was also a huge labor of love for Kirby and its cast!

For what it's worth, I actually did come up with a full on "plot" for this fake novel of mine! (And yes, it was a big stretch to combine Kirby 64 with Amazing Mirror, Milky Way Wishes, and Star Stacker!!)

Here is the "chapter list" (in English and Japanese!)

1 / "Marx the Magician Comes to Town!" 魔法使いマルクがやってきたのサ！

2 / "Into The Mysterious Mirror Maze" いざ！不思議なミラー迷宮へ

3/ "Ribbon The Fairy and The Missing Crystal" 妖精リボンちゃんと失われたクリスタル

4 / "Moving Reflections?! The Maze's Secret!" 動く反映？！迷宮の秘密！

5 / "Adeleine and The Path Leading Out" アドレーヌと出口への道

6 / "Oh No! The Jumbled Dimensions!" 大変！バラバラの次元回路！

7 / "Marx's Mocking Laughter?!" マルクの嘲笑？！

8 / "Catch That Clown!" あの道化師を捕まえろ！

9 / "A Day Packed Full of Delights" 楽しい満喫な一日

-

In the "backstory" Marx attempted to steal/use the large Crystal from Ripple Star ("It's just a prank, bro!") but something happened (maybe the Queen did something) and the Crystal split into shards.

So Marx makes up a fake show and comes to Popstar to dupe all the simpletons there (his words, not mine) to do the bothersome task of gathering all the shards for him to fix the crystal while he sits back and waits, disguising this arduous task as a "fun game."

Kirby and the rest fall for it and start to do Marx's dirty work, going into the mirror maze (related to the Mirror World?) But there, Kirby meets the hardworking fairy, Ribbon, who is working all on her own to try and get the crystals back before Marx can. (Or, if Marx duped the folks of Ripple Star that he'd fix his own mess, he then trapped Ribbon in the maze once they were out of sight!) But so far, she has failed to convince any of his "guests" that she is anything other than a clever attraction. Kirby believes her though and offers his help!

I hadn't fully figured out how the mirror worlders were connected, but I thought it might have been possible they were working with Ripple Star/the good guys (but seemed to be "bad" because they were "scaring" the carnival attendees) or maybe, DMK and Shadow Kirby (who I was originally going to put in the cover as well but it got too crowded for him) were there as guardians to warn everyone to stop messing around with powers they don't understand.

Bandee spends most of his time in the novel outside the maze (to skirt any questions of a mirror Bandanna Waddle Dee) waiting for everyone alongside Marx, where he will eventually figure the jester's game and goes into the maze to warn Kirby and friends. Just as the group seems lost, they will encounter Adeleine, who will be all big sister like and help guide the kids to the exit (using the never fail maze escape strategy of "keep your hand on the right-hand wall")

However, just as things seem to be going well, Marx has used what pieces of the crystal the Popstarians have collected for him to pull his prank, and the gang find themselves lost not in the maze, but in a cartoonish jumble of dimensions!! (Picture each door you go through, whether it's to the kitchen or the castle, leading you to an entirely different planet!) It's amidst this wacky dimensional comedy, trying to grab Marx to get him to Cut! It! Out! that they meet Gryll, who knows Marx well and gives the gang a tip to lure him out (probably involving them all NOT panicking and instead sitting down amidst the chaos and enjoying a simple Adeleine-sponsored picnic, pretending like they're having a great time without him.)

They defeat Marx once he shows up to confront them, complaining they aren't "playing along right" and Gryll takes the battered, bruised jester back for "remedial magic training" or something equally embarrassing for Marx. Back home at last, they find it's sunset now and Marx's One Day Carnival (now being run by the Waddle Dees, who just can't help from helping out) is coming to an end!

However, Kirby, Bandee, Meta Knight, and King Dedede invite Ribbon (and Adeleine and the Mirror Worlders) to enjoy the last hours of the carnival with them before bidding everyone goodbye.

They promise to remain friends, however!

-

Speaking of friends...

I'm taking a long break from fandom to tackle some new things and take on a new direction in my life. As such, I have taken down all my old work from this blog to get some much needed emotional distance from certain things. That said, I don't require anyone who reblogged any of it in the past to delete those reblogs, nor do you have to cease sharing/distributing things of mine. Just know that if you ask questions, I probably won't be here to answer them.

My love for Kirby and its cast will continue, despite this change. And I do hope the fandom will continue to bloom in my absence.

To everyone who left me such beautiful messages on my previous post, thank you so, so much. I won't forget you all. I hope if our paths cross again, it will be as friends once more. And if not...rest assured that you will forever be a part of my precious memories.

[woolfie-artz]

more of my other category 10 Stan post

https://www.tumblr.com/woolfie-artz/779572654588968961/i-wanna-add-this-too-stan-as-a-ghost-does

The reason Ford goes to cabin (i’ve decided its a couple miles out of the town of Boring, Oregon. because i can.) is because his last attempt at studying a category 10 ghost didn’t let him properly study them, so hes hoping this ghost might be more cooperative

So, im thinking when Ford gets to the cabin, there’s been so much rain that there’s a insanely deep puddle that may as well be a pond with its depth around the house, but not a single bit of it touches the house, instead effectively acting as a sort of moat. This doesn’t deter Ford in the slightest, instead intriguing him more.

Once passing the moat, the first thing he notices is old, dried blood on the porch, accompanied by a tooth right next to it. Ford had assumed the ghost haunting this place had been here for a long time, but hes not so sure anymore. he continues on, however now more cautious.

The cabin is dark, damp, and looks like it’s ready to collapse at any second, quite honestly. the first room he goes into is the dining room. it’s clear there was a struggle here, from how the things in the room look haphazardly thrown around, and the old, dried blood left in a large patch left on the table on a spot where one could assume someone was pushed against during the fight. the only thing which seems undisturbed is a white, poster sized towel pinned to the wall. the sole sign it was even there during the struggle was a single bloody hand print on the left side of it, yet it was still hung nicely on the wall.

“We can use this as the flag of the Stan o’ War, Sixer! and everyone’ll know it’s us cause it’s got out names on it too!”

Ford walks towards it, muttering“this looks familiar” under his breath, but then a rattling is felt from the floorboards and anything touching the ground, such as shelves, falls over, slamming so hard against the floor they crash through the floor and cause the window in the room to shatter. barely avoiding being flattened by these things, he makes the wise decision to run the hell out of that room.

throwing the door closed behind him as he gets into the hall way, the time he takes to catch his breath and regain his bearings, he notices the pointing and pictures on the walls and such. the faces are all torn out, and most of them have bloodstains on them. the only ones still in pristine condition are the few which depict ships at sea. it all brings a deep, twisting put in his stomach, his throat already feeling tight as he fought back a subconscious need to cry.

he forces himself to continue on, going into the living room.

there’s possums nesting in the ripped up furniture, and for a second Ford catches himself thinking I bet Stan would’ve loved to see this.

there’s no blood here, or any sort of gore. the closest there is to that is a taxidermy possum sitting on the mantle, and Ford almost lets out a chuckle at the irony of the fact that a family of possums have chosen to live in the room which displayed the preserved corpse of another of their species.

now, as mentioned before, there was no visible blood or gore in this room, but there kitchen block, the one where cooking knives are held, lays haphazardly sideways right next to the couch, knives having spread in front of it which tells the story of it being thrown down on that spot.

Ford take it upon himself to clean it up, because it posed the risk of one of those possums stepping on the knifes and hurting itself. Shanklin came to mind at the scene. To this day, as childish as it was, Ford still believed that animal’s abilities to stab mysteries was impeccable. to try and make sure the possums don’t see him as a threat as he approaches, he says to them “please don’t mind me, I’m just going to clean this up.” though he knows it will make no real difference in how the animals react. not a second later, something jumps him and starts scratching the hell out of Ford’s neck. he ripped it off, throwing it hard against the wall on instinct. the attacker was dazed, and this gave Ford the chance to observe it better. it was poorly stitched, the face all wonky and janked up. it was the taxidermied possum.

the other possums immediately saw him as a threat tabs followed suit in attacking, Ford soon mobbed by them. not without injury, he manages to get them off of him and get out of that room, though the door was loudly being scratched on by the animals.

Ford knows he should leave. he should’ve never gone in. the tooth on the porch shouldve been was got him to leave, but he felt like he had to stay, to figure out just who the spirit is. he feels a pull further into the house. and that pull he follows.

it leads him to the bathroom. the mirror was shattered, and if he thought the blood in the dining room was bad, this place was a new level of horrible. more of it was covered in blood than not. this especially concerned the tub, it practically drenched in crimson and despite refusing to look any closer at the gruesome scene, he could’ve sworn he saw chunks of flesh and hair in there. Hair that looked identical in color to his own.

Ford decided he had enough of this room very quickly, and as he walked as fast as he could out of the room, he stepped on a creaky floorboard. the door slammed shut and locked, and the shower, tub and sink faucets all started rattling. Ford slammed himself at the door, trying to break it down before he had a chance to find out what that rattling was leading to.

He was not afforded that chance as they all started spewing blood, which started to flood the room. the door wasn’t budging. all his attempts to break the door down only scrapped him up and added his own trickle of blood to the pool beginning to well up around his feet. he scrambled to grab the lock picking set he only kept for ghost hunting, and as he tried to pick the lock with his shaking hands, all else he could do was hate his younger self for thinking he’d never need his mothers lock picking lessons.

it was up to his mid thigh by the time he finally was successful, and he sprinted further into the house just on instinct of getting away from that room. near the end of the hallway, the floorboards broke beneath him, and when he looked down, instead of just seeing wounds from the sharp edges of the wood scraping into his leg, he saw something much more gruesome.

His foot was wedged in the ribs of a corpse. a corpse with a mangled face which must’ve looked just like his own before whatever happened to it came to pass. the Jaw looked like it was barely hanging on, one half of it completely de attached from the rest of the head. it looks like most of the organs had been removed, the only ones left were things like the intestines and golbladder.

Ford knew why he felt that pull. why there were knives near the possums, why the towel with a handprint looked so damn familiar. it was Stanley. Stanley was murdered and Ford didn’t know till now. how long had it been since it happened?! weeks? months? years?! the realization hit him harder than a truck. he threw up.

eventually Ford pulled himself together enough to pull Stan’s body out from under the floorboards. he wasnt gonna let his brother go without a proper burial, if he’d even be able to let him go at all. the entire house started to shake, every drawer slamming open and shut, open and shut, open and shut. Ford knew he had to get going if he wanted a chance at survival now that he’s disturbed his brothers corpse. his brother’s corpse. he felt even sicker every time he thought those words.

he carried himself and his brother to the front door, but it wouldn’t budge. he remembers the window in the dining room, and sprints to there.

he has to catch his breath in there, all the most dangerous objects already fallen. he rests his hand against the wall, looking down with intention to look at the ground, but instead he sees the corpse in his arm. he looks up and sees that he’s rested his hand on the towel from before, blood staining to make his own hand print on it. it looked so much like that banner from their childhood room. he can’t stand it here anymore. he climbs out the window while being as careful as he can with his poor brother.

by the time he steps onto the last step of the porch, animals with the same blank eyed stare gathered around the outside edge of the most as leaves started to cyclone around one place.

there was a half eaten dear, a wolf with a hunter’s bullet right between its eyes, a bear which looked incredibly ill and emaciated, alongside many other animals in similar conditions.

the form of the spirit madre itself visible, and it looks the same as the corpse.

“PVZEV OV ZPMNV ZPIVZWB!”

His voice screamed with his eyes shut tight, the vocal fry sounded just as painful to hear as talking must be with the extent of the injuries

Ford barely managed to muster up a quiet

“Stan?”

the ghosts eyes flew open, and a face of recognition lead to all the animals collapsing back to inanimate corpses, the expression quickly turning to relief, then confusion, then anger, and finally to sadness

“Sixer?”

[kozachenko]

I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help

Artist's Note:

Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.

Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.

And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.

Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.

Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).

I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol

[hooksbooks]

Renegade Exchange '24: Her Kingdom As Great

I participated in @renegadeguild's typesetting and bound fic exchange, in which we trade typsetting/bound fic wishlists with other participants and then typseset/bind at least one fic from their list and send it to them.

This post is about the first fic I bound for @celestial-sphere-press: Her Kingdom As Great by MarbleGlove.

I was excited to see this fic on my requester's wishlist, because I've read this series in the past and really enjoyed it. I liked the imagery of the golden wheat berries from the Nearly Endless Plains being used in embroidery on clothing, so I wanted the cover to feature embroidered wheat sheaves.

My first step was to work on the book cloth. I knew I wanted something tan that looked kind of hand-woven, so I went to the fabric store and got some linen-look fabric that I liked. I also experimented with three different ways of making it into bookcloth: backed with tissue paper filled with Heat'n'Bond (right), filled with a 50/50 mix of starch paste and matte acrylic medium (bottom), and filled with the paste/medium mix with a piece of tissue paper on the back (top).

I ended up liking the last option the best, though it meant the fabric lost the slubby linen-like texture I had selected it for. I wanted to go all-in on the tan wheat-tone theme, so I also printed the text on cream paper instead of white (the right typeset in the picture above).

I also added a tan bookmark, embroidered on gold headbands, and added an oxford hollow (although this book is a bit too thin to really need it).

When I went to cover the book, I had every intention of using gold HTV foil. However, I didn't take into account how the beads would inhibit me moving the iron around like I usually do with HTV (to avoid issues with the steam holes). It didn't end well. In fact, it ended very horribly.

The foil only partially stuck, and when trying to use the tip of the iron to apply heat only on the bits that hadn't stuck, the iron left a big black stain on my bookcloth. Luckily, it came out pretty well with a bit of baking soda on a nearly-dry toothbrush. I ended up asking a neighbor for some gold paint and using some regular vinyl as a stencil, which worked out OK. I found out later that it works better if you put down a layer of acrylic medium or the like first to avoid bleeding around the edges, but you live and learn.

Technical details:

Quarto size (quarter-letter, about A6)

Sewn on tapes

Sewn-on made endpapers

Chisel-trimmed

Rounded but not backed

Sewn-on endbands

Sewn-on bookmark

Oxford hollow

The tapes are frayed and glued to the exterior of the boards

The mull is also glued to the exterior of the boards

Full bookcloth cover

Things I especially liked about this bind:

The embroidery. It turned out pretty much exactly how I had envisioned it

The filled bookcloth. I don't think I'll do it by default, but I liked how it turned out and I like having it as an option in my back pocket

Things I'd like to improve for next time:

The title. I don't mind the paint rather than HTV foil, but I didn't love that it bled under the edges of the stencil. Next time I'll try using acrylic medium to seal the edges first, and see how that turns out.

The endpapers. I've been applying my endpapers with the covers open because I was concerned that they'd pull weird and possibly rip at the hinge. Unfortunately, this causes a big wrinkle in the endpapers that does not look nice. I figured out while doing the back endpaper that it actually is just fine to apply the endpapers as I close the covers on them because of the way I taper my boards and glue the mull on the outside of the cover.

Overall I'm moderately pleased. It's the highest-effort book I've made so far, and it turned out nearly how I had envisioned it with only minor issues.

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

Hey!

Since I started playing August last year I'd been lurking on the reddit (since I don't have an account) and always found the posts of the person who was writing "what choices determine Cove's X" so insightful and loved reading them

recently, i played the baxter DLC (still am not over it, it's my most favourite thing ever; i just love our pepe le pew) so I spent a lot of time on the reddit just reading up about him and what others thought bcs i LOVE deep analysis on characters that I've liked and I stumbled upon a bunch of your comments (which again, loved reading!) and I put a name to the comment

found the same username on tumblr and simultaneously found out you were the one who goes into the games files and wrote those posts I loved so, AH! Hi!

hahah my 'fangirling' and backstory aside, right after I played Baxter's DLC I felt like I didn't understand the reasons behind his actions? I know everyone talks about how he has self-worth issues and wanted to just be a memory but I don't get how that all correlated to completely detatching and not wanting to be a part of MC's life? Like did he care at all? If he didn't, why keep your number and the gift you gave him in one of the memories (Sightseeing?). But if he did care, how did he so easily at the beginning distance himself professionally? AND THEN REMINISCE ON ALL OUR MEMORIES TOGETHER BUT GO BACK TO PROFESSIONAL; LIKE WHAT WAS THE INTENTION

I feel like it is such a stupid question since it seems like everyone else gets it and the game explains it so many times but I just did not get it 😭

so if you could! could you help me understand it a little better? (and if you have talked about it before, no pressure to rewrite it all here I'd happily read another post of yours about it if you could kindly link it!)

i hope that makes sense haha, hope you have a lovely day and genuienly THANK YOU for what you do with your blog! its so great and even if you don't answer this ask i will LOVE reading everything you still put out!

-jaycee <3

*ahem*

Firstly--AAAAAAA >//////<

Thank you so much!! I do my best to help out so people can understand the code, and at times I just see it as something fun for me. So, when people enjoy them as well, it makes me so happy~

Also, I'd be delighted to answer your questions about Baxter! His DLC is absolutely packed so I get that sometimes it's hard to absorb it all. You asking someone for "help" and wanting to understand (rather than simply giving up or writing the DLC off) is admirable, honestly, not something to feel stupid about!

For me personally, I do believe that there are layers to it, and I'll try to do things in a different enough way/simplify them linearly in case that might help. Included will be quotes from the game to help things flow best.

All that said, let us now go on this journey into Baxter's mind together! ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

(note that this got so long that I put a TL;DR/summarized version at the end, I just thought it was important to go into as much as possible; I also have a Reddit comment here that has a smaller/quoteless explanation)

Childhood and Early-to-Mid Teens

Let's take this chronologically. Picture a young Baxter Alexander Ward all the way back in Golden Grove. He's a rich boy with rich parents, and by rich, we're talking really rich. What already is so much to an adult is virtually limitless in the mind of a child, and it earns him a certain reputation amongst the population. Everyone knows the name of the Mr. and Mrs. Ward's only child, and it makes him extremely popular.

However, that doesn't mean he has true company, especially as his neighborhood situation is quite the opposite from the MC of either Our Life version, who are given one or two easily-accessible friends depending on the game.

"The land my family home was built on… I suppose you could call it somewhat remote. It's a fair-sized estate, situated a little ways off from the rest of the town. So, until I moved into college dorms, I'd go as far as to say that I'd never had neighbors before."

In other words, there's no one around his age nor does he have a sibling to play with. This isn't a big deal at first, given that he's young, innocent, and raised where anything he wanted was in his parents' budget. He's expected to act a certain way, certainly, but he can't understand the idea of needing anymore than what he has: he's the cute rich boy that has "everything" and that every kid wants to be close to.

So much so that it gives him an ego about it.

"What I do distinctly recall is that as a child I unequivocally thought I was better than other people. That those who met me were lucky, and I could pick anyone I wanted as company. The onus was on everyone else to impress. "If someone was boring or maybe I just didn't like the colors they were wearing that day, I could find a new playmate, easily. After all, I had the most to offer. "Naturally, what I was 'offering' was what my parents had. A big, cool house, exciting outings, the best toys. It wasn't until I was eleven or so when I developed my first stable friends. They might not have been rich like me, but they had their own charms. Those ties couldn't be replaced."

"I loved it when they would come and visit; there was scarcely anything better. They never got over their sense of awe, and I ate it up."

"Becoming attached to other people, especially those people, made me realize what I'd believed wasn't true. And it was so obvious. They were wonderful. I felt things I never had before. "All it took was being who they were. It didn't matter what their parents did. No fancy venue could top genuine comradery with their company. "And for whatever reason, I was in the club, and I was happy. The person who was lucky to be there was me. "I had wanted my friends to feel the same way towards me. To have that kind of incredible effect on another person for no reason other than that I was Baxter."

Thus, the confident boy Baxter sees in the mirror everyday, like a framed painting of the kind of person everyone wants to be, becomes distorted. Kids didn't flock to him because he was "Baxter," but because he was a rich boy who could wow them. He felt that even the friends he did manage to acquire only hung out with him because they were lovely people, because they also were not immune to being awed by his rich boy things, and because he got lucky.

Qiu - who's part of his friend group - being his first crush likely doesn't help matters. It's no longer about his own personal satisfaction, where he shows off and the kids involved do little more than stroke his ego; now there are kids who are the ones offering him something, and it's something he didn't even know he was missing.

This begins the initial spark of self-worth issues for Baxter, and it's a spark that snowballs as time goes on. He doubts himself, he doubts his ability to make his friends happy in the way that they make him happy, and he - when he's fourteen - goes so far as to doubt the impression something as simple as his hair gives off.

"The generous might say I could count it as black, or that it was 'black in the right light' as my parents placatingly put it. "The fact of the matter is that it's a dusty gray."

"Who would notice a color that wasn't exactly black? And why would they care, even if they did? "Me. I noticed. I noticed and it bothered me, so I dyed it. "Was it something I wanted only for my own preference, or was it because I believed if I saw it as an imperfection then that meant everyone else did? "Probably the latter."

(note that this is around the time that an MC might meet him in Soiree and potentially become his second crush)

So now you have a double-edged sword of sorts where Baxter wants to be good enough as he is, yet is actively covering up the parts of himself that he deems as flaws to be corrected.

In trying to craft this "perfect/better" version of himself, he's created a scenario in which he cannot win. Even if said version could make people happy, he is still not the real version of himself and goes on believing that any amount of joy he does create isn't even "him" doing it anyway.

This is already excluding the fact that his parents are *:･ﾟ✧ garbage ✧･ﾟ:* who always wanted him to act a particular way, and he knew they'd take issue with him if they didn't raise him personally.

"They understand care through the lens of control and protection. That's been their way ever since I was young. In that sense, they treat me no different from a child. "But, of course, they are quiet, educated, esteemed, and a tad old. As is their company, most days. That's not the environment to act as a kid. "That meant I've always been expected to behave with the maturity of someone their own age, or perhaps even older, somehow. "A bit of a paradox, isn't it? Do everything as an adult would while getting the respect an infant does."

"They're family and I'm their son. That is what matters at the end of the day, blood related or not. "I'm thankful for that as well. "Now, if I wasn't the boy they raised together in any capacity, then there would be problems."

Even the air of sophistication he has comes from his upbringing (though he's at least made that his own). There's the Baxter he actually is, the Baxter his parents expect him to be, and the Baxter he's trying to build up for himself to be someone he thinks can make those he cares for happy, all things that he tries to deal with himself as if that's at all manageable or healthy for him.

To the surprise of no one, things still aren't perfect. Without a trust that his friends like him simply because they like him, he doesn't realize - or refuses to contend with - the truth of the situation, and the age gap between them starts causing difficulties.

"I was older than all of them. As sheltered as I was, I got along better with kids not quite my own age. Immature as always, hm? "Life changed fast then, and the years between us became more noticeable with every day. I never reached a point where I felt like I knew what I was doing before suddenly, it was as if I didn't belong with them anymore. "That they didn't have time to keep me around with the differences in our schedules and priorities. And I accepted that. So, the friendships ended. We stopped talking as young teens, and I haven't even seen them since I left for college in 2015. "I thought they mattered to me, but when have I done anything for them? Why did I deserve to be liked and included when all I did was want that to happen and abandon them when it didn't?"

Now we're getting closer to the white-and-black-haired Baxter we know as, at the time he leaves Golden Grove, he's just one year away from his visit to Sunset Bird and simultaneously no closer to knowing what he's doing. He's broken off from his old, cherished, and only significant friend group, and now he's all the way on the other side of the country in Virginia by himself.

He's still chaotic, still kindhearted, yet has no clue that he deserves to have the kind of companionship he longs for. In the year of him being at college, he fails to make those kinds of connections, whether intentionally or otherwise.

"Instead, you could say I don't have many friends. I spend the majority of my time on my own, though I do attend parties and other gatherings when I am able. "I do not have anything quite similar waiting for me there. Don't feel bad about that. "It is only to be expected. I did move across the country. It is a fairly common phenomenon for those of us who do. I'm a regular fish out of water, if you will."

"It hasn't been easy to find anyone to reminisce with, not for a while. But then again, I only developed a sentimentality once I'd gone off to college. "I was too young and proud for that sort of matter before then. There wasn't anything in my life to harbor much sentimentality for. I suppose leaving was the catalyst. Isn't it always? "But once that part of my mind had developed, there wasn't anyone around to share the emotions with. My classmates and I… we don't have that kind of relationship."

His parents are also just as controlling as ever, only allowing him to enjoy his semester off from college under their rules and in a place they personally chose and are comfortable with. Baxter, who had no interest in going home to Golden Grove and thus agrees to the terms, can only make himself comfortable by finding his own ways of having fun, such as renting a car despite being underage.

"At a minimum, I can honestly say that I wish that I missed it, if that makes sense. I don't know how you feel about your hometown particularly, but you should at least be able to appreciate that I spent all of my youth there. "I'm not so jaded as to totally discount the place, far from it. But anything I liked about my home wasn't exactly exclusive to that locale. The US is a big country, and there are plenty of beautiful things to see wherever you go. "I've experienced enough to know that much, at least. So no, I don't miss it. And I won't be going back. "If my parents wish to see me, they'll have to be the ones visiting where I am.

"Mother and Father agreed to me vacationing on my own, but under the condition that they would have the choice of where I stayed. "California being fairly close by, and Sunset Bird being so quaint, not to mention our prior excursions to the area, they concluded that this was the easiest way to keep me out of trouble."

Basically, it's all going back to his line about expecting him to behave as an adult whilst treating him like a child. He's permitted to vacation by himself but only in a town as "boring" as Sunset Bird where there would naturally be very few teenagers around his age. His streak for being a bit of a rebel reflects that.

What he doesn't expect is to meet a new group of people and the MC in particular, who unintentionally challenges his negative view on himself.

Step 3

From the very beginning, Baxter takes immediate interest in the MC and Cove, wanting to make one of those "blissful, temporary relationships" that will last the summer. Already, we have something of note, which is the 50/50 success rate he ended up having: MC and Terry were all for the absurdly friendly monochrome man that swooped into town, whereas Cove and Miranda were more hesitant (and thus didn't spend as much time with him) because his directness tended to put them off.

"I care a great deal about what I say and that it makes the correct impression. Yet I am not always successful. My approach is off, really."

"Now, this may be a complete shock to you, but… I've been told that I can come across as a bit too forward. I know. It can be hard to believe. My intent is to be open with people so we can connect. It almost never works out that way, though. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I don't possess a knack for making friends. "It was obnoxiously easy when I was a child. Especially due to that aforementioned big, cool house. But now I keep finding myself at a loss for how to do it. With the hit-or-miss endeavor, the vast majority of the time I come up with a miss."

"And I've never been in a stable, long-term relationship. They've all been brief, and varying levels of disastrous."

Put more simply, Baxter knows what he wants but doesn't understand what people want out of him (believing more that they don't want him at all). On some level, he's flying blind and simply does what he can to put his best foot forward, not wanting to miss opportunities when they present themselves to him. He's someone who likes seeing people thrive and enjoy themselves, and it's even better if he knows that he caused it.

"I live for approval."

Thus, as the "perfect summer tourist" who wants to vacation and have a fun time with those that he can, he seeks to do everything possible to make it memorable. That doesn't mean that he goes out of his way to do things he doesn't want to or portray himself as this person who doesn't even resemble who he actually is, but he puts on an air of not having any flaws that would cause him to be any form of burden to others.

This is even excluding the parallel of a group of four friends that he's involved with yet feels distant from or like he doesn't belong in at the same time; history repeating itself and what not, though in his case it's more like a self-fulfilling prophecy, emphasized by the possibility of him asking the MC out on a summer fling.

"I don't care about what label you'd choose to put to it. I could be your boyfriend, or nothing at all. "And you can also change your mind without consequence, if you find out it's not what you imagined further down the line."

Baxter gives the MC every out he can to make things as convenient as possible for them, not only so that the relationship isn't serious and they don't have to worry about it, but so they can break it off whenever they wish. He knows full well that even the person he's presenting himself as won't please everyone and sets everything up so he can almost anticipate the ending if the MC gets bored with him because he fails to impress.

He's interested in them, attracted to them, and feels that he'll enjoy their company, but he only thinks he can do the same on the short-term; that small amount of time where people are still learning about one another where little else is hoped for beyond good things.

Another way of looking at it is based on Baxter's view of control.

"It might not surprise you to know that I can be a touch… particular. I know the importance of coherence, with individuals acting in a well-coordinated fashion. And I like things to function well-for systems to operate smoothly. "I confess, you could call me controlling, at times. Not with people, but with processes. Especially when it comes to enacting plans. I'd much rather act under my own steam than follow someone else's lead. "I'm only flexible with the personal, not the business, aspects of life."

His relationship with the MC is, on some level, a process. It's something for him to carefully plan out and calculate to make it the best he can for them. Getting more personal would involve him revealing the parts of himself that he finds distasteful and believes the MC will as well.

Of course, he doesn't anticipate growing attached to them, which brings in the "risk versus reward" aspect. This can be seen when Baxter initially agrees to have drinks with the MC in the morning that he hates so much, where the safe option would be to simply postpone until another day, except he wants to spend time with them as soon as possible.

In that respect, it's not unlike him struggling to decide on the type of ice cream he'd like.

"My problem is this: I'm unsure if I should get a dessert that's to my usual taste. If I do, I'd be certain to enjoy what comes from the ice cream truck. That would be nice. "But, on the other hand, this may happen only once. Perhaps it'd be more rewarding to get something new, an option that would be challenging to find in a common store. "Which will add more to the experience? Indulgence or novelty? I want to make the right choice."

However, his risks don't end up panning out well in his mind because he's unable to get past something so minor as forgetting his wallet, when all he and the MC had planned to do was have a nice time at a cafe in Drinks. In his mind, the Baxter he's trying to present had failed, and what else can he do at that point (under his perceived logic) but do what he remembers worked from childhood?

"It's a question of knowing the right people who know the right people. We could have even had full backstage access with the main cast if I'd asked. "I do try not to lean on that kind of thing too much, if you can believe me. I appreciate it might not look like it now. You could say it's a means for me to preserve my sense of independence. It's easy to be popular if you can foot the bill, and I don't want that to be what draws others to me. "But after all that, here I am, leaning on the same old crutch. Nothing has changed since I was six."

"I suppose that was part of the issue. I didn't consider myself appealing enough as a person to be worth the time. So, I wanted the support of an exciting or interesting backdrop for meetups. "But… it shouldn't matter that much where you are if you enjoy who you're with."

Baxter expects perfection out of himself in the same way that his parents expected things out of him, and the limitations follow accordingly. He wants little more than the MC's presence and it is up to him to "repay them" for it. When he was a child, he was the one everyone else had to impress, and now it's the other way around: he has to impress those he wants to be around.

Except he's only human, and aiming to be the perfect person for the MC all summer simply isn't feasible, which he takes with every ounce of criticism one can imagine.

"This whole situation… it's asinine. I haven't known you long enough to be causing this kind of trouble. I'm quite literally a stranger. And I won't even be here long enough for that to change. As welcoming as you all are here, that can't be forgotten. "This was-I was-only ever supposed to be a part of the fun. A worthwhile piece of summer scenery. Someone who added to the experience, not held it back. You shouldn't have to baby me! To sit there and spend your time making me feel better when I don't keep it together. "The mess I am in the mornings, the drama I cause in the evenings: the person I am when the show is over. Those aspects shouldn't be any of your concern. I don't provide that support to you, do I? And how could I when I don't know you? "No. It's not fair to make you worried or, worse, guilty over what happens to me. What matters is that when we're together it's for the pleasant parts of existence. The less ideal shades of life can be managed separately. "That's all I wanted."

Two things to note as well is that he'll say all of the same dialog even if he and the MC have experienced Hang or Planning (where Baxter can comfort them), and there's a dialog path in Sightseeing (i.e: the moment most players will play first) where he'll openly say that he hopes they count for "more than strangers."

(He's additionally rejected the idea that he knows the MC despite relishing every given opportunity to listen to the MC babble about even the most mundane things.)

So not only will he deny to himself that comforting the MC was worth enough to count (or unintentionally block it from his mind), but when it comes to things becoming more personal, suddenly he's "just a stranger/near-stranger." The MC can be comforted when they need it but not him, and he's just some nobody tourist when it comes time to put any value on himself...

whether that be the simple things like driving everyone around, to the stuff that takes effort to notice like him seeing that the MC wanted to ride in the passenger seat, to the more complex like literally saving Miranda's entire birthday party.

"I couldn't have devised a more pleasant way to spend my time here, even if I tried. And to be frank, I have tried. I didn't come to Sunset Bird totally devoid of any plans or ideas. "You and your friends have invited me to participate in an event with great significance to you. It's a profound gesture to show to a relative stranger. "When it's over, and I'm long gone from here, I hope you can all look back on this party for years to come-maybe for the rest of your lives-and treasure the memory. "And if I am a part of that memory, then that is satisfaction enough. Though perhaps I'm in danger of giving my contribution too much credit."

A hypocrite (I say this affectionately, I swear) of the highest order; there are rules for himself and no other rules for everybody else. The things he does are never enough whereas everyone else does plenty by simply existing and giving him the time of day.

Leaving the way he does with no contact and little hope of seeing each other again is the inevitable result of the process he'd put together for his time with the MC and his summer at Sunset Bird. From the beginning, he's had a time frame to keep to, an intent to not get attached, an expectation that no one would get attached to him, and an idea that he would leave as little more than a memory.

"Only lately it's been different. Incredibly different. I almost worry my luck won't last. It will all be over soon. "I wish… I could stay."

Except he does get attached, just as the MC gets attached to him (in what he can admit in Step 4 is the most stable relationship he's ever been in), and now all the control he feels he had goes out the window. That's why he has the potential to get upset if the MC keeps pushing his buttons by questioning him.

"I would've preferred it to have been an enjoyable time having my company while I happened to be here, that was the intention. It seems I've ruined that on the whole. I accept the blame for that. If I had behaved better this wouldn't have come to a close on such an abhorrent note. "However, I am not an irreplaceable part of your life. I was a tourist, a novelty. And now I'm not even that. So don't bother with this."

To him, everything is so obvious: he got "lucky" getting to hang out with his Golden Grove friends, who were simply so nice that they continued bothering with him at all despite his flaws. Considering how that ended, he expected the same where no one would bat an eye if he left.

The MC trying to hang onto what they have isn't a sign that he had done anything right, but that the MC is being their sweet, considerate self in thinking about him. He's had at least five years of criticizing himself, of trying to make people happy yet downplaying it when he does, that everything the MC says goes in one ear and out the other.

"I heard you then and each reasonable suggestion to salvage the situation, but I brushed you off as if you were the one being dramatic. Or that you were lying."

At some point between having his Golden Grove friend group to now, his priorities had changed. He'd given up on having true value to people and instead focuses on creating moments (an appropriate word to use given how the game works) with them. It's a natural progression from not believing he's important to not believing he could ever possibly be.

Even basic traits he does have that one will likely see as something to adore, he won't attribute to himself.

"Now, I do admit, though, that isn't what one might call a grand love story. It's simplicity itself. "I'm not the most romantic or sentimental person in the world. I know that can be at odds with my formality, yet it's the way I am."

He'll say he's not romantic nor sentimental while being one of the most romantic and sentimental people in the game, so either he's unaware of it or refuses to associate positive words like those with himself. On the flip side, he can falsely associate others with credit for things they've done without acknowledging the finer details that might negate his point.

For example, in the Wedding DLC, Baxter gives so much credit to Cove for "staying" and "trying" without understanding that Cove didn't have a choice on whether to stay or leave the MC initially due to still being a child (who absolutely would have left and in fact did try to leave in the Step 1 DLC). He's also one of the few characters who doesn't consider Cove "clingy," probably because he's just as clingy if not more so.

By unknowingly projecting his self-hatred onto the MC's view of him, he's come to the idea that the MC has already gotten as much out of the relationship with him as possible without things completely falling apart, and daring to want anything further is his own self-interest/ego getting to him.

It's even to the point of deciding that everything is his fault if the MC kissed him in Planning when they weren't dating.

"I must apologize for that. I shouldn't have done it. Even at the time I knew I shouldn't have. That was a bad idea. One that only managed to complicate our relationship further. "I shouldn't have involved you in more of my selfishness."

So his conclusion in the Step 3 ending is that he's lost no matter what and genuinely cannot comprehend the idea that he had done anything right for the MC to want to stay in contact with him.

If the MC contently accepts separating from him, then that proves to him that he isn't someone worth sticking around for. If they instead get upset or want to stay in touch, then he has somehow done something wrong in the way he went about things and presented himself. It all goes back to being a scenario he's set himself up not to win.

"In short, what I'm saying is that I'm a fraud in all regards. You can't take any of it seriously, including what color my hair is."

"I don't deserve to have that kind of relationship with another person. That's why. I don't contribute anything. "Maybe I can impress others for a time, but how do you go beyond that? I can't say what it means to be significant as a person, to be irreplaceable. "And since I don't have the answer, I certainly wasn't going to assume I'd do it by accident. What does it take to add value to someone simply just by being there? I tried, but I never knew. "In my eyes there's a world of humans living freely among one another, while every connection I create is so fragile. If I make the wrong step I might hurt them, or be hurt myself, and if it's strained at all it will break entirely."

The sad part of it is that it makes sense, in a way. The things he did for the MC - baring perhaps that damned chocolate fountain - were almost effortless to him. He wanted to do them, so why would he think he did anything special?

One of the very few times he's willing to talk in any way bad about another is only if the MC uses Jude and Scott's relationship as a reason for why they could keep in touch. That's when his cynical side comes out.

"Of course, my rather reasonable prediction is that it will not last. Most relationships don't."

As things were that summer, Baxter viewed the MC as someone he would love to know, but not someone who wanted to know him because he doesn't think he's likable; that the slightest inconvenience to them - to anyone - would make him not worth keeping in touch with any longer. The MC also has friends who have been around longer than him, and he's never considered that he could have any role amongst them.

Tempting fate was never his intention, yet that's exactly what he does in believing they'll never meet again, drawn together as if the longing makes them magnetic to each other.

Step 4

As is standard with the inevitable passage of time and growing older, Baxter is slowly finding himself and improving as a person over the five years that he and the MC are apart. Some things change and others stay the same, whether for better or worse.

Though, any positives aren't particularly noteworthy to Baxter himself.

"I can say that I've improved some talents over the years and found a less eye-catching sense of style, but for anything meaningful there's been no growth."

Due to his self-worth issues, he never thinks what he does is good enough and is wholly focused on where he's yet to improve upon, even though he is fully aware about the parts of himself he has worked on.

"You don't need to worry. I'm not quite as sensitive as I used to be about mistakes. I will survive this, pride as wounded as it may be from these trials and tribulations."

"Part of the tragedy of adult life is learning to roll with the punches, so to speak. I suppose I should be proud of the fact that I can at least handle it much better than when I was younger. "Thinking about what kind of panic a younger Baxter would have been thrown into at the prospect of a missing shirt on an important day-"

Under that lens, it doesn't matter what he does or how he deals with the issues he feels are a burden to himself and/or others; there's always an asterisk - that he's attached to them - to act as a "yes, but..."

"I'm fortunate that thanks to my upbringing I happen to be well acquainted with formality and what it takes to authentically achieve it for an event. It's a unique kind of direct experience to wield. "Additionally, I deal well with the high level of control and detail-work one must take in a stressful event. "When it comes to work, I absolutely can make decisions. It's only in my personal life where I lack conviction. "And that's most suited in bursts with different people rather than a long-term position in a consistent group. You can easily get sick of someone who needs everything to be 'just so'."

Similar to the weddings he involves himself with as he graduates and gets a career as a wedding planner, there is an ideal final product to work towards, but one he could never conceivably be happy with because he's already starting from a place of seeing himself as someone worthless as an individual. It shapes said final product into something entirely unrealistic, never mind completely unachievable.

As for figuring out a life for himself, that goes hand-in-hand with where he ultimately chooses as his first place to live: Prism Vista City, which Mr. "Definitely Not Sentimental" ends up getting attached to.

"This, ahem, particular location was intended to be only a starting point. I was coming from the complete other side of the country, and I at least knew I enjoyed the area. "I expected to relocate once I had my bearings. It wasn't my intention to linger where I might not be welcomed. "But who could've guessed it was harder to pack up and leave everything behind once you had silly things such as an 'actual apartment in your own name' and a 'real career' tying you down? "Weeks passed, then months, and then, perhaps inevitably, I came face to face with one of the reasons I developed such a positive outlook on this state to begin with. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me. California is directly beside Oregon. I could practically walk there if I was industrious, and stupid, enough. "Despite that, being here is a wholly different experience than what I had being raised in the neighboring state. "Sometimes it seems as if I'm still a tourist. That I don't belong here, and everyone who passes by can smell the otherness on me. "Other days, I have the confidence to think I've found my own place in the world…"

That's one thing that never changes about Baxter in virtually all of his life: the desire to simply belong somewhere. What does change is how he approaches that want.

He wanted to belong with his Golden Grove friends, but fell out with them due to the circumstances and chalked it up to a failure on his part. When he wanted to belong with his Sunset Bird ones, he'd already decided himself that it would never happen to save him from any potential disappointment, and that simply being there for a summer would be enough.

In adulthood, he's given up on such things entirely. No more friends, no more flings, and even his most consistent contact - his parents - have been cut out of his life (though in the latter case, it's for the better).

"What happened, I do exactly… that to everyone who unfortunately crosses my path. "The acquaintances I made at college, dancing partners, the friends I had since childhood; my parents, though, that is an entirely different story. "The point of the matter is, excluding those I interact with regularly due to work, I have no relations whatsoever. That's simply the way it goes."

"To start, I haven't spoken to my parents in, mm, a few years now. That's what I meant when I included them in the list of relationships I haven't maintained. "Don't worry. It isn't a painful topic for me, exactly. Mostly I find it… disappointing. Frustrating? Certainly awkward. "Before I cause too much concern, they've never done anything to intentionally hurt me; my parents have always cared for my well-being. "And I can't deny how much they have done for me - all the opportunities and advantages I had because they provided them. They gave me the best they knew how and- "This is not as nuanced as I might be making it sound. "What a novelty it would be if I could speak favorably of my own family. Can you imagine? "That's not the case, however. "What I am trying to say is that my parents are, on the whole, good to me. And they do love me as their child whom they raised for nearly two decades. "Just as I still feel compelled to give them credit for the minimum, I'm certain they're telling their acquaintances endless excuses for why I'm so distant and unagreeable with them. "They haven't given up on me, in their own way. "But all that does not make them good people. "I can assure you that because they are not good people. I'm merely a rare exception to the unpleasantness. "My parents are selfish- they're sheltered. Even as adults."

"Imagining myself as not their son and not someone they loved seemed meaningless at the time. They did love me and that's what mattered. "Of course, it's not always enough, is it? "If I wasn't theirs, either through birth or adoption, if I was someone else's son, they… would hate me. "I know I'm foolish, on many counts. It took me a long time to realize that them being hypocritical shouldn't reassure me the way it did. "Baxter Ward could have as many 'shortcomings' or 'problems' as he did and it'd be fine because it was 'different' in that case. There were reasons, can't you see? "But they couldn't see that other people deserved the same kind of understanding. "And that some things weren't 'problems' in the first place…"

The true tragedy of it being that it's heavily implied that Baxter's parents did attempt to teach him or at least act in a way that would lead him towards a life without any meaningful relationships, which is what he got when he became an adult but not ever what he truly wanted.

"And their nonsense priorities and concerns are what my parents expected from me! "How ironic that I can finally see the silver lining of my lifelong struggles thanks to them. "If I never realized how poor my connections were, or if I never cared that my relationships were nothing more than associations based on conveniences, maybe I'd have been who they wanted."

Arguably, Baxter is at the most "successful" place in his life: he might not be rich anymore, but he's making his own money with a job that suits him, he has a nice apartment, and he's living comfortably.

Except he's not happy, and convinces himself that it's as good as he's ever going to get. It's both the highest and lowest point of his life.

"Of course, I wouldn't be able to understand the viewpoint of someone willing to commit themselves to another person for the rest of their life. "It's what makes for a good planner. I can get invested just enough in the premise to truly create something special, but I'm not attached to the real relationship. "And I'm not disappointed when it's over. "It's been years since I was careless enough to be hurt by anything. "I'd given up on trying for more than what I already had. Then I told others, and myself, that meant I was always content. But honestly, it made me bitter. "I didn't become the person I wanted to be. I didn't achieve the kind of life I'd hoped for."

He couldn't even maintain his relationship with dance, something he'd adored since he was young and now limits to lessons given to wedding couples.

"In a way, I fell out of love with that passion. "It became tedious and unsatisfying to do it with complete strangers, and I didn't have enough hours in a day to dedicate to a long-term competitive partner any longer. "But perhaps I should've tried harder not to give it up entirely. "How embarrassing… even my choice of hobby revolved around having a serious and understanding relationship with someone else. "The precise matter I've had a lifelong struggle to obtain."

As for the MC, Baxter misses them desperately, but goes about his life as though he doesn't. He's committed to viewing himself as someone who doesn't deserve them and that what he did was the right thing to do.

It would seemingly be "easy" then to let go of anything that reminds him of them, in hopes of either limiting the times that he finds himself thinking back to those moments or steering himself towards moving on, but he can't.

The MC's souvenir (if they gave him one)...

"I am fond of it even now. I've never been able to part with it. But isn't that what souvenirs are for? Keeping for the long term? "I'm being entirely reasonable for holding onto that after thoroughly leaving everything in Sunset Bird behind."

Their number...

"I had your number all along. "Of course, I never looked at it over the years we were apart, but didn't have it in me to delete it either."

Even the khaki shirt he wore during Mountain (if he and the MC were dating at the time and they invited him up to their room)...

"It remains my stolen property to this day."

He keeps all of them, unable to let go of the feelings the MC caused within himself but locking them deep inside rather than addressing them. He has the very method for contacting the MC at any time to reconnect, to explain himself, to apologize, to confirm or reject his own doubts over what happened, but he doesn't out of fear.

"I said it before- my concern was protecting my own feelings. Anything I did to that end felt justified. "The more time and experience let me reflect on my actions, I only became more convinced I should stick to my word and not trouble you further."

"I've also missed you over those five years. "And Terry and Miranda and Cove and that summer in Sunset Bird, but mostly, it was you who I thought of. "During that trip, I did feel wanted. "You made me feel wanted. And… important. "It was exciting and amazing, and felt impossible it could last. The shine would wear off eventually, as always. I didn't want to see it happen. "What if I seemed pathetic for being attached to people I met on a short vacation? You had your real group of friends who lived with you there already. "Or what if you stopped responding to me after realizing I wasn't that interesting? Or why would I have even assumed there'd be a reason to talk to me at all once it was no longer convenient? "I'm aware that's not a kind way to view you, but it wasn't that you'd done something to make me believe it would happen. It's my viewpoint for every situation."

Baxter never once thinks that the MC is a bad person, simply that he is the problem and even the best of people will "understandably" lose interest in him if there's any interest to begin with. As someone who likes control and has been conditioned to stray away from more personal relationships, it's advantageous to him to remain in his self-sabotaging mindset.

It's what he's used to.

"I can't afford to flitter off on vacations whenever the mood strikes the way my parents can, but I have a very comfortable existence. "It's nice, if lonely. "Of course, let's not pretend I have anyone to blame for that other than myself. I ended every relationship I had with my own actions. "It's the story of my life. I want to be liked, but I don't want to be important. "A suitor for a season, the planner at a wedding- it's that kind of role I'm comfortable in. "Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to people who are wanted by everyone else. They don't need me. I can be someone, I can't be 'the one'."

So when his Step 4 begins and the MC unexpectedly shows up back in his life, five years after Baxter expressed confidence that they would never meet again, he can barely handle it. Without his say so, he's being confronted with feelings that haven't faded, and ones he already thinks are ridiculous of him to have considering how short of a time he'd known the MC.

The best he can think to do is to put on an air of professionalism and brush the rest off. He'd already left, not contacted the MC for so long, and had remained determined to never see them again, so he doubles down on it.

"I'm merely an employee of your friends. Please feel free to ignore me entirely."

However, it's not tenable, because Baxter has never been someone with the impulse control to keep him in check. Even in the few days he knows that the MC will be around and then leave afterwards, holding himself back from doing what he wants isn't something he can keep up for that long.

In front of people like Jude and Scott who he doesn't know, it's at least easier, but around someone like Xavier who he has some form of friendlier relationship with (only a day after he'd conveyed to himself and the others that he's nothing more than the wedding planner), he's already dropping stories about the past.

"As soon as it comes to you it appears my reason goes out the window. Along with much of my dignity. "But that is how it is."

"Enjoying myself in your presence is the most natural thing in the world. Frustratingly so, at times. I find myself letting go of more than I intended to."

It's also not that Baxter doesn't want to talk to the MC because, if the MC tries to get him to talk during the ride back from the bakery, he deliberately makes it a game of rock-paper-scissors that they'd be guaranteed to win if they wanted to. He could've shut them down entirely if he didn't care, but he finds a middle ground of technically not agreeing outright while still letting the MC talk to him.

"The petty types of decisions that were best suited to be decided with randomness mattered little to me. "It was far more amusing to see who would use the advantage they had to win and who would be willing to take the loss, and why they seemed to do so. "At the bare minimum I'm not that much of a brat any longer. "As an adult, I use it mainly to get away with not making decisions of my own. Whoever is playing with me has the responsibility to win or lose because what they're up against is preordained. "I don't even need to choose which symbol my hand takes. It's easier that way."

Not that it means he's alright with it either. Baxter is already under the stress of planning a wedding in a matter of days and now has to deal with seeing the MC again, sometimes one-on-one. He doesn't want to be cruel to them, doesn't want things to be so difficult, nor did he want the MC to be "forced" to go with him to the bakery (on a suggestion he couldn't have known would lead to it), but that's what ends up happening.

"I'm not any less immature than I was five years ago, it seems. I've been incredibly rude to you, and that is inexcusable. "You're not unwelcome near me. Of course not. "However, I'm here to plan Jude and Scott's wedding. My priority is that only, and I don't want to get caught up in anything else. "There's no need to reminisce. I hope that's not insulting, it's honestly not meant to be a strike against your character. "You are a lovely person and have many wonderful friends. You don't need me to be an active part of your life."

"I apologize for what happened between us, I honestly do regret it. "I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I was unable to keep my word and have bothered you yet again. "I'm thoroughly humiliated and have attempted to get in your way as little as possible. Though I'm unable to quit outright; I couldn't do that to Jude and Scott. "We are both aware that I am fully incapable of making you happy. But in four days you'll return to your life blissfully free of my presence in it. "Please tell me, what can I do for you? I simply don't know…"

It feels terrible for him, but this is the cycle he's gotten himself into: wanting to stick to what he'd done in Step 3 under the belief that the MC would be better off without him, feeling nostalgic for the past to the point where it ends up coming out, behaving distantly as a result and hating himself for it, then apologizing just to do it all over again because he's constantly going against what he actually wants.

"Every time I'm arrogant enough to believe I know what I'm doing and that I'm in control- I don't and I'm not."

"From the moment you walked into that restaurant, my actions were nothing but self-preservation and damage control and, occasionally, reminiscing to an extent I was pleased with. "Yes, I had a 'professional commitment' not to let personal matters impede the work that needed to be done, but my distancing went far beyond that. "In the end, I was using their marriage as an excuse. "If not for that, then there would have been something else. Some trivial reason for keeping you at arm's length. That likely doesn't shock you."

Baxter is essentially shielding his heart from the very thing that would protect him from his own attacks on it. He goes so far that he considers texting the MC directly to be overstepping boundaries (even if it's for work), all after continuing to let go the most whenever he's reminded of times with the MC.

He's aware that he's attached and readily admits as much when it comes time to.

"Even I can admit I wouldn't do this for every client. "And somehow, that makes this worse. It's painfully obvious I have some personal investment, enough to merit this. "More than I intended to be. More than I ought to have. "I wouldn't have done this if you weren't here… "Even though Miranda was the client's sister- "I wouldn't have offered. It'd be overreaching, to do as much as I have. "I've gone beyond the line of pure professionalism more than once already. The cake is the icing on top."

"Well, naturally, it's against my better judgment to make anyone uncomfortable. "Of course, in such a tight spot Jude wouldn't have questioned any help he was offered. "But what would Miranda have thought? And Terry as well? If some strange man they knew long ago was getting that personally involved in their situation? "I wouldn't have crossed that line, no matter how much sympathy I had for Jude's position. "So, where did my confidence come from? Very simply- I thought you would understand. "That I had good intentions, that the odd lengths I went to was merely how I am, that it was okay to let me be involved. And if you did understand, everyone else would as well."

Deep down, he knows that he is not a stranger; that he knows the MC and trusts them on a level deeper than he thought possible before meeting them. The MC brings out the best in him while simultaneously revealing the most vulnerable parts of himself to himself, which gives him all forms of conflicting emotions.

"I… "It's odd, really. I'm the one who left. "And yet I haven't stopped seeing you as someone important to me. Important in my life. "It truly does seem as though everything I did was for no reason at all."

"It's been hard not to feel nostalgic, this past week. We've had quite a stroll down memory lane. Sometimes by happenstance, sometimes because I went out of my way to do so. "I have… fond memories of those days in Sunset Bird. Treasured memories. "Like most treasures, they're things to be taken out and admired from time to time, and then put away again. "Though, some are too delicate for even that. They should never be touched. "This evening is a reprise of something I never wished to relive."

To put it in another way, though Baxter cherishes the time he spent with the MC, anything that brings him back to such times confront him with everything he's tried to avoid.

Yearning for the things he'd tried to put behind him, the what ifs of things going differently, and the doubts of all he's done thus far based on his own conclusions...

"Back then, during my tourist phase, we took that brief trip to the mountains. On a hike, we passed a tree that had fallen across a stream. "If you can picture that, it was as if we were on opposite sides, and I couldn't take the path to you because it looked risky."

Not unlike his fear of the ocean, Baxter's biggest hurdle is that final step past the point of no return: taking the plunge and trusting in his ability to survive.

"It seems endlessly deep and unpredictable, with powerful waves and rapid currents. "And there are creatures lurking in there. Some of them are larger than me. It's unfathomable. You don't play with something like that. "If I enter that water, I'll never return from it. The ocean will swallow me whole. That's what I think."

It's only by the end of the wedding reception that he finally crosses that line and has the epiphany necessary to deal with everything that had happened: the opening of the oven to check the result of a baked cake rather than leaving it a mystery, the flick of the switch to look at a room he'd always kept in darkness prior, and the throwing of himself into deep water and realizing he can still breathe.

"In the past, I spent every moment around other people thinking of the limited span of our acquaintance. As if I wasn't seeing them at all, only the imminent departure. "Our arrangements fell in line with that. A clear timeframe, limited from the outset; predetermined rules set in stone. "It was that way five years ago. It was that way now. "We'd cooperate for a short period in service of Scott and Jude's wedding, and that would be that. I've said as much myself. More than once. "The problem is, as I only recently realized… "I forgot about that. "You see, I thought, completely and earnestly, that I didn't need to speak with you now, here, when I was feeling so… sensitive. "We could simply pick up where we left off later tonight or tomorrow. The fact that we no longer had a 'reason' to interact didn't come up as part of the consideration."

When he wasn't the one setting the rules, when he was the one caught off guard by someone he cared so much about reappearing into his life, when he was forced back into reliving past regrets and under the pressure of facing them all over again when their second/third time together was over, that ended up being when he found what he needed to talk to the MC. That was when he finally had to listen to what his heart was saying rather than constantly denying himself.

Perhaps even most importantly, that was when he had to face the fact that what he did - the suffering he put himself through for five years - had achieved nothing of value, and it's only through acknowledging it that he can keep it from happening again.

"When I left five years ago, that didn't make me happy. When I kept you at arm's length after meeting again, I was unhappy still. "If it doesn't need to be that way, if I was wrong, then… I don't know, honestly. I've never considered it a viable option until moments ago."

"It had been so long since I'd known what it was like to be included, to be around people who'll refuse to let you be left out, no matter how hard you try to weasel out of it. "Terry, Miranda, and Cove were too kind, but it was your gestures specifically that are at the heart of this matter. "Here's the truth: if you didn't ask me to dance again, in the afterhours of another event we helped create like you did then, it would have broken my heart. "That would mean definitively that I lost what we had. "But… if you did ask it would be more painful. Because that would mean- "It would mean even after everything, you hadn't let me go. That you accepted me still. "That you always would have, that I should've believed that all along, that the only thing I've done was hurt you and myself of my own accord. "It's horrible. I didn't want to know one way or the other."

The uncomfortable truth, a placating lie, or the blissful void of not knowing anything at all: those were the choices he had and he finally chose the uncomfortable truth, all for the closure the MC deserves and the potential prospect of a better future if he can only make it past the obstacles he'd set up for himself.

"But I can see now that I'm also wrong for making another decision for you. Even if the conversation went disastrously, you were owed a better explanation and an apology. "You had never asked me to leave you alone, I created that fiction. "I hope you can accept that I did care for you then- I care now. Of course, as ever, none of it counts for much if it's kept entirely to oneself."

"It's… a little hard to approach what I've sowed over the years. So many mistakes. "And even now, when I hope to make things right, to make things last, I'm forced to admit that I'm ignoring the reality of the situation. "This doesn't come down to what I want at all. I don't have the right to put myself before you. I never did."

"I suppose that is the true story of my life: me not understanding a thing and getting it all wrong at every turn. "But rather than dancing around this, I'll say it directly: not trying to stay in touch with you is something I've regretted for a long time. "I will always regret the days I lost, even now that we've reconnected."

That doesn't mean everything is magically fixed, nor that he won't fall into some old habits. He has to catch himself when he automatically excludes himself from the MC's meeting with their moms, and he'll still be apologizing and criticizing himself long after the MC has forgiven him.

"You've never allowed me to wallow in my misery, except for when you had to. When I made you have to because you couldn't get a hold of me. "But when I see you, I'm reminded of what it is like to be seen. "How it feels to have someone who knows you, cares about you, has memories with you, who wants to make more memories together. "And I tried to undo that- "Twice. By keeping you as far away from me as I could."

"Unfortunately, I've yet to think of a good reason why this admission isn't another of my patently bad ideas. It isn't as though I've been thoughtful in return. "I can't stand doing anything in the morning, even if I can pretend to, for my clients. As you know, I can't afford elaborate trips these days. "My only remaining social contacts are limited to the wedding industry, not performative theatre or owners of fancy cars or the like. "I've never been a good partner, even a good friend, to anyone who has crossed my path."

"My few victories were hollow and I'm still sorry I took that out on you at the start of this."

Nevertheless, he has no desire to run away from the MC now, because he never had a desire to run in the first place. He just needed to understand that it was okay to want, and that he wasn't the worthless person he thought he was so he could stop projecting how he felt about himself onto how people feel about him.

This makes way for Baxter to experience a lot of things that most people would have long since had at that point in their lives: he gets excited simply by having a person hanging out at his house, is incredibly pleased to have someone he can be (dance) with, and he's so amazed that he can have these things in his life that he's actively eager to prove to the MC how much he'll be sticking around, to the point of being ready to visit them at the soonest time possible.

"Hallelujah. Admittedly, a part of me was convinced I wouldn't go through with it. What if you thought I had lost my mind to follow you right after we barely reestablished a connection? "But having this last day together, knowing it was the last, was the final push to pursue what I actually wanted."

His story, essentially, is about a fall from issues of self-centeredness just to pendulum swing into ones of self-worth instead. It's about balancing on a tightrope of bringing short bursts of happiness to others while trying not to let his ego take hold of him again. It's about denying himself what he wants and refusing to hear otherwise before finally recognizing that he deserves to be happy.

That's Baxter Ward.

TL;DR:

Baxter starts as an egotistical child - encouraged by his rich parents and the kids constantly impressed by his showing off - but that changes when he obtains genuine friends and learns the value of real relationships.

Realizing that he'd relied only on what his parents had to make connections with people, Baxter doubts his own worth as a person and is unable to imagine that people would feel differently about him than he feels about himself.

Baxter falls out with his friends due to the age gap and not having time for each other, coming to the conclusion that he'd not done anything for them.

Under the belief that he has no inherent long-term value, Baxter goes on flings and seeks to create fun moments with people rather than anything that would require revealing more of himself than he feels is attractive to others; this has the side effect of making him highly critical of himself over even minor mistakes.

Baxter goes to Sunset Bird meets the MC, who (along with the MC's friends) makes him feel a sense that he might actually be someone important to others, which he then actively tries to convince himself out of due to fear of risks/the unknown.

After leaving the MC on no contact, Baxter continues to miss them, but feels like he would only bother them further if he saw them again even if it were just to apologize.

Baxter ends up seeing the MC again in his Step 4 and is confronted thusly by his unfading feelings. This leads him to try and maintain the distance he'd created in an attempt to protect himself, yet he's unable to keep himself from letting loose every now and then because it goes against what his heart wants to push the MC away.

Though horrified by the idea that what he'd done in the past might have been a mistake and preferring (at the start) to go on without knowing, Baxter ultimately reflects on his actions and acknowledges to himself why he's been doing what he's been doing, and that he doesn't want to let the MC go again without laying everything on the table.

[bangpop91writing]

hii! I have this picture in my head of Tommy in bed on his back sweating whilst Buck is riding his dick and holding his(Tommy's) hands/wrists above his head. Buck has his head smushed in Tommy's pit(s) and is getting drunk on the smell his man... care to write something about that? pretty pretty please!!!! <3

I love it! This is right up my ally and it's been awhile since I wrote some fun scent kink. I hope you enjoy!

I am really sorry about how long this took me to post. Between a god awful migraine and parenting writing took me awhile. I hope it was worth the wait!

Send Me Prompts

Sweat wasn't really something Buck put a lot of thought into before Tommy. Sure he enjoyed working out with his exes and getting sweaty between the sheets, or anywhere else they had sex. But Tommy had unlocked more doors for Buck than just his bisexuality. Buck has a list.

Getting man handled is one of the hottest things that he has ever experienced.

Beard burn is way hotter than it has any right to be. Especially between his thighs and on his ass.

Experimenting with the differences between getting fucked by Tommy's dick and toys.

He loves sucking dick and eating pussy(or ass) in equal measure.

He thinks he might be a little bit of a size queen… Or maybe that one is just a Tommy specific thing.

Sweat is kinda(really) fucking hot.

Read the rest on AO3 or bellow the cut

The list is obviously longer than that, and there's another list of things he wants to try with Tommy. But honestly he can't remember anything else at the moment. Not when he has Tommy pinned under him and definitely not he has Tommy's dick in his ass.

Tommy's promoter friend Alvey, had put together a charity fight featuring first responders from around the country to raise money for cancer research and had asked Tommy to participate. Buck is only a man, and watching his man win fight after fight had really done it for him. How could it not? Watching a hot, sweaty, Tommy in those skin tight shorts man handling other guys was almost as good as being the one manhandled by a hot, sweaty Tommy.

Buck hadn't even given Tommy time to shower after the last fight of the night, which Tommy won, before dragging Tommy up to their hotel room to somehow his boyfriend just how much he'd enjoyed the fights. Buck still doesn't really get why Tommy enjoy watching UFC fights as much as they do, but he has developed his own appreciation for Maui Thai. Actually that also is probably a Tommy specific kink to add to his list.

But after a fight or spar, when Tommy is still high on adrenaline and pent up aggression he is more likely to roughly manhandle Buck, leading to really hot, rough sex and tonight was no exception.

They had barely made it into their hotel room when Buck had been pressed against the wall with Tommy absolutely devouring him while tearing Buck out of his clothes. There wasn't much to tear Tommy out of, just the soft zip up hoodie and those sinfully tight shorts that made Tommy's thighs and ass look even more delectable than usual.

Buck had pushed Tommy back towards the large hotel bed, not making it far at all before Tommy had growled, squatting just enough to grip Buck's thighs, wrapping them around his waist before picking him up carrying him the short distance to the bed. At first Buck had been perfectly happy to let Tommy manhandle him, putting Buck exactly where he wanted it.

It is so hot. Buck is not small, he's never been small, even before he started packing on muscle. Sure him and Tommy are the same height and similar builds, but Tommy knows how to use the muscle he has on Buck to pin him in place. Which is with Buck on top of Tommy, his ass in Tommy's face while he buries his face in Tommy's sweaty groin, sucking Tommy's cock and balls while he is licked and fingered open by Tommy.

He's flipped onto his back, with his knees pressed to his chest when Tommy finally slides his cock into Buck. There is no teasing, no slow roll of hips, or tender kisses. Its fast and hard and biting. And Buck is perfectly happy with letting Tommy fuck him like that, well for awhile anyways. Buck gets his legs wrapped around Tommy's middle, then uses his muscles just the way Tommy had taught him during those Maui Thai lessons to flip them over so that Buck is the one on top all without dislodge Tommy's cock. He grabs Tommy's massive hands in his own pinning them over his head.

"Stay." Buck growled, impaling himself on Tommy's massive cock, grinding down against his boyfriends hips. As hot as it is being pinned under Tommy, it is equally hot being the one doing the pinning. There is something heady about having all of that raw power and strength pinned obediently under him that makes Buck feel powerful in a way he had never experienced before Tommy. He doesn't have to worry about holding back, about being careful, Tommy won't break under him.

Tommy isn't exactly pliant under Buck, still to keyed up from the fight. Tommy bends his knees pressing his feet into the bed thrusting up into Buck meeting each of his own downward thrusts.

Buck doesn't release Tommy's hands at first, he wants to make sure Tommy will stay where Buck put him. He only has to remind Tommy to stay put once when Tommy tries breaking the hold Buck has on him. Buck doesn't know how effective his growl was considering it had been more breathy moan than actual growl, resulting in Tommy grinning up at him wolfishly.

"Don't worry, kitten, Daddy's got you." Tommy had practically purred with the danger of a large cat. Buck didn't even have time to whine in protest when Tommy broke the hold easily freeing his hands from Buck's tight grip. With one arm remaining extended over his head, the other came up gripping his fingers in the back of Buck's hair, tangling his fingers in the curls there. Tommy uses his grip yanking Buck forward pressing his face into Tommy's underarm.

"There you go, kitten. Take exactly what you need." Tommy growled. And Buck does exactly that. He smothers himself in Tommy's armpit inhaling the sent of sweat and musk like the first breath of fresh air after a fire.

Tommy's continued grip in Buck's curls is completely unnecessary, he is more than happy to bury his face in Tommy, nuzzling the sweat damp hair, licking away the sweat, while imprinting the scent in his memory. But he loves the forceful grip holding his head in place and Tommy knows it.

Their thrusts become frantic as they race towards their orgasms. Their hotel room is filled with the sound of slapping skin and low, animalistic moans. Buck gets one of his hands between them, fisting his cock, jerking it frantically in time with their increasingly sloppy trusting. Buck comes with a loud drawn out moan, feeling completely surrounded by Tommy even though he's the one on top.

It doesn't last long though before Tommy rolls them over again, pounding into Buck, chasing his own orgasm. Tommy comes with his own low moan, while biting down on the space where Buck's neck meets his shoulder. They collapse in a sweaty, sticky heat, exchanging slow kisses as they come down from their frantic fucking and the high of their orgasms.

Later, after cleaning up in the shower. Buck is getting dressed when he sees the bruise on his shoulder in the shape of Tommy's teeth. Turns out he has something new to add to the list.

Getting marked with hickies.

[pagannatural]

2.11 Playthings 👭👬

-episode of my life. If you only ever watch one episode of supernatural let it be this one. Creepy dolls creepy dollhouse creepy little girls a lonely Connecticut inn a desperate drunken tousle between the incest brothers. It doesn’t get any better than this.

-Dean gives Sam a hard time about suggesting a case after they’ve been looking for Ava for a month. Dean doesn’t even know Ava, but he’s spent the last month looking for her because it was important to Sam. When Sam doesn’t respond to Dean’s teasing, he backs right off. Dean is controlling and possessive but he is also respectful and considerate because he thinks the world of Sam.

-Dean says Sam’s attitude “is just way too healthy for me, I’m officially uncomfortable now” which is funny because it’s not true that Sam’s attitude is healthy and he will get drunk and misbehave about it, but it checks out that Dean is uncomfortable with healthy dynamics.

-Sam smirks at Dean’s joke in this really cute way. It shows that he still looks up to Dean, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

-the innkeeper mistakes them for a gay couple and assumes they’ll want a king sized bed and Sam says “what? No—no two singles. We’re just brothers.”

Spot the difference between these two pictures

That mighty flustered, genuinely panicky “just brothers” sounds exactly like a “we’re just friends” moment between a will they/won’t they couple and it’s so weird that he says it that way. A normal answer would be “oh this is my brother” and then everybody moves on. But this is a tv show and there’s a reason for this scene to be included in this episode. It highlights that the nature of their relationship as brothers is more layered, and this messy denial tells the viewer that there is a romantic/sexual layer.

Back in Asylum in s1, Dean was mistaken for Sam’s boss specifically to make it clear to the viewer that Dean had more authority in their dynamic at the time, which played into Sam’s anger at Dean. This is a similar way for an outsider’s interpretation of the relationship to shed light on it. Their individual reactions to the assumption that they’re a romantic couple are meaningfully different—Sam is embarrassed and nervous like he’s been caught. Dean is feeling some kind of way.

He looks guilty, like he’s doing something wrong. He played along with people thinking he and Sam were a couple in Bugs and went as far as to slap Sam’s ass and call him honey. He seems pretty comfortable with his sexuality and with people being gay in general, like the joke he made about the only real thing about him being his boobs or the time he sarcastically told a scowling male store owner that his smile really lights up a room. He’s playful, he’s not weird about it (until season 8 but that’s another post). So something else is going on here.

His attitude toward this kind of mistake has changed since season 1. A lot has happened, but I think the point at which things shifted for Dean was that moment in Croatoan when he decided that he was going to stay with and protect Sam when they thought he was infected. The episode was a major turning point for Dean. That’s what pushed him to finally tell Sam what John said, and it was the first time Dean really thought Sam was going to die. It also paralleled the scene from Provenance in which Sam almost puts his feelings for Dean into words. Back then, Dean was able to take control of the situation to avoid Sam’s feelings and his own. In Croatoan, he’s the one forced to consider his feelings and why he would live and die and kill for Sam, and Sam alone. It’s no longer possible for him to ignore the feelings between them. He knows or suspects strongly that Sam has feelings for him, and now he can’t deny that he does too. It’s one of his major conflicts moving forward.

-Dean asks Sam why people always assume they’re gay, saying it’s a “troubling question,” and Sam says “you are kind of butch. They probably think you’re overcompensating” which Dean takes in as though it’s an equally troubling revelation. They look like a couple, and therefore they look queer, from the outside: Sam with his shy demeanor, soft voice, longish hair, deference to Dean in most situations (Dean goes to the front desk, Sam hangs back a little, his body mostly facing Dean), and just general feminine-coding throughout the show. Dean with his cropped hair, gravelly voice, overconfidence, and constant womanizing.

Queer people have this shared experience of never feeling like they’re doing masculinity or femininity correctly, and knowing or realizing that other people can tell they don’t fit in, but not really being able to name what they’re doing wrong. Sam is too feminine and Dean is too masculine and when they’re together they read as a gay couple.

Croatoan drew attention to this too, but again, it’s not really about coding them as lgbt, it’s about coding them as queer and incestuous in a gothic, monstrous way. They are Other and it’s in their blood just like the monsters they hunt.

-Dean has Sam pretend to love dolls, to further underscore his feminine role in their relationship for the viewer. It would be so cute if Sam really did love dolls as a kid.

-Dean tells Sam not to look at porn in their room, apropos of nothing.

-someone else dies. Shot of Sam, damsel, gazing out the window of his tower as the body is carried out and Dean talks to the innkeeper.

Dean goes into their room, where Sam is sitting facing away from the open door in a way that feels foreboding, like something is wrong. It’s similar to the shot of Rose a little later in the episode, with her in her chair facing away from the door.

Sam is drunk because he couldn’t save the guy who died, and “the more people I save the more I can change.” He’s afraid of becoming corrupted and at least some part of him believes that he will (that he already is) and needs to make up for it.

Sam says Dean has to watch out for him “and if I ever turn into something that I’m not you have to kill me.” He argues that John said Dean has to and Dean says “Yeah well dad’s an ass” which is a very bold thing for Dean to say about the dead father he once idolized. He obeyed John to keep Sam safe, and he’s finally letting himself be angry with John.

Sam says even now everyone around him dies. He says “please, Dean, you’re the only one who can do it. Promise.”

So Sam is drunk and in crisis over believing that he will become evil, in this episode that makes sure to emphasize the sexual undertones in his relationship with his brother, in an interaction that looks charged and erotic. He’s begging his brother to kill him rather than let him fall, holding onto Dean’s shirt and pulling him down toward him, his eyes locked on Dean’s.

Dean says “Don’t ask that of me” but Sam gives him the puppiest tear-filled eyes so Dean lies, he says “I promise.” At this point Sam is sitting on his bed and Dean is leaning over him, Sam grasping his shirt to keep him close and keep his attention.

Sam looks at Dean’s lips, says “thank you,” inhales, and grabs Dean’s face in both his hands, his thumb near the corner of Dean’s lip. It looks like he’s trying to kiss Dean. The fact that he inhaled rather than exhaled also just makes it feel more like a lead-up to something rather than a conclusion.

Dean pushes Sam away, closing his eyes as if conflicted, Sam still holding onto his face. It’s a little aggressive. Dean has to shove Sam off of him forcefully.

Dean pushes Sam onto his back on the bed, where he watches him turn to his stomach and nestle into the mattress, arching his lower back with his face in the pillow. Dean puts a hand over his mouth and traces his lips, his eyes dragging over Sam’s body.

Just describing the basic mechanics of this scene makes its eroticism clear. Dean touches his lips after Sam looks at them in a gesture loaded with restraint and tension. It’s another of those scenes that usually happen between romantic leads: the woman gets drunk and confesses something and/or needs to be taken care of and the man treats her respectfully but not so respectfully that he isn’t a little seduced. Dean could have let Sam kiss him (or do whatever he was going to do), but he has so many reasons not to: fear of hurting him, of Sam leaving him, of betraying his role as his savior and protector. Dean’s self worth comes from loving Sam, so if he loves Sam Wrong he feels worthless.

And that’s to say nothing of the fact that Sam is begging Dean to take ultimate control over his body by deciding whether he lives, and deciding whether he’s good or bad. His fears are soothed by the idea that whatever happens he can be Dean’s, he can belong to his brother. He’s okay with dying only if it’s by Dean’s hand. His whole life he’s felt something was wrong with him, so if it’s true and Dean confirms it, he is the only one who can kill it. The corruption in Sam (in both of them) has already been heavily linked to blood and their relationship and now Sam is verbalizing it—No! We’re just brothers. Why does everyone assume we’re gay? Sam holding Dean’s face, drunk, saying there is something wrong with me and it’s your responsibility. Please, you’re the only one who can do it.

-Sam is throwing up the next morning. Dean says something gross about a sandwich in an ashtray that makes Sam gag and say “I hate you” and Dean says “I know you do.” The way Dean says this sounds like he really thinks Sam hates him, which came up in Asylum as well. After last night, this has to have something to do with Sam’s feelings for him and the fact that Sam thinks Dean is the only one who should kill him. He thinks it’s tied to Sam hating him and his self-hatred for loving Sam wrong.

-Maggie tells Tyler “I can’t leave this haunted house and you can’t leave me.” Sam and Dean can’t leave the haunted house that is their life because they can’t leave each other.

-Maggie tells Rose “you’d do that for me?” which Sam has basically said to Dean, and “you kept me away for so long I thought you didn’t love me any more” which fits both of them at different times. Rose is the little sister choosing to die so that Maggie doesn’t have to spend eternity alone, and saving Tyler. It’s a creepy, haunting ending that parallels Sam and Dean. The sisters play together forever in a haunted house and the brothers drive off to hunt together out of the haunted houses and motels and backroads they were raised in.

[alwayssassydreamer]

I Hate Myself For Loving You

Day 15 of Kikitober (sorry i wrote a wrong prompt down for day 15 so this doesn't quite fit but I'm still posting it hope it's ok)

A/N: someone (I forgot who - sorry) gave me this idea and it turned out kinda weird as i was trying to think of an interrogation tactic that would not involve physical and not too much emotional pain. But in the end Kid is just a big softie. As always not proofread

Plot: you're after a treasure but got caught by pirates who try to make you give up the location of it, things get even more complicated when Kid arrives and demands answers but not about the treasure

Warnings: mention of torture, maybe hurt?, reader is a captive, i seriously have no idea what to put here,

Characters: Kid x F!Reader

You thought it would be easy here, meeting this man who could help you with the map that was leading to a hidden treasure, talk to him, thank him for taking his time and then get the fuck out without anybody noticing that you were even there.

But you were not expecting this pirate crew.

Bound to a chair in a dimly lit room on an enemies ship. That's not quite how you pictured this to turn out.

"Tell me dear, someone told me that you might know where the treasure is, is that true?" a rather old man with a brown beard you guessed to be the captain, asked you.

"Treasure? What kind of treasure? Never heard of a treasure here. but If you find it I'd like to have a share of it." you said looking him dead in the eye.

He stroked his beard a crooked grin on his face before he moved closer grabbing your face squeezing your cheeks.

"You think I'm an idiot?" Well yeah, that's what you were thinking.

"Someone told me that you were asking questions about a specific map and I come to think that this map might be the one leading to the gold" he hissed squeezing even harder. Damn that was getting really uncomfortable.

"Come on sweetheart tell us about the map" a tall and bulky man shouted.

"Why should I tell a pathetic pirate crew like yours anything" you snapped trying to get his hand off your face.

The crew erupted in laughter, confusing you.

"Well I guess we'll have to show you what this pathetic pirate crew is capable of. Maybe then you will talk to us" he threatened a mischievous grin on his face.

You had to admit you were a little scared now. Pissing them off was a rather stupid idea after all.

"Get me my interrogation box" the captain ordered and you swallowed hard.

Having something that's called an interrogation box did not sound good - not at all.

The captain took a chair and sat down in front of you placing the box on his lap. In it a lot of different knives, some sharp some seemed kinda blunt, varying in size and something that looked like a hammer.

The little scared feeling turned now into a big scared feeling not going unnoticed by the captain.

"What's wrong dear, fear sinking in. Not so tough anymore aren't you" he taunted as his fingers gliding over his tools.

"That should do for the warm up" he said picking a smaller knife with a clean and sharp looking blade.

Wavering it in front of you he moved closer to your arm. Just as he was about to cut you with it a man of his crew rushed towards him whispering in his ear.

The captain looked well different. Whatever the man told him it made the him get up. His face a mix of fear and frustration.

"I'll be right back. In the meantime how about you entertain our little prisoner" he said in a threatening way.

His men nodded and smiled a devilish smile at you.

Ok maybe the captain wasn't that bad after all. The fact that you were being held in this room tied to a chair surrounded by men who already undressed you with their eyes made your stomach twist.

The first one approached you moving a finger from your arm up to your neck.

"Fuck off" you yelled trying to wiggle away.

"There's no going anywhere darling, you're stuck with us, the pathetic pirate crew." a man with a scar running down his chest taunted.

"If you touch me I'm going to cut your fucking hands off" you said desperately but this only made the men laugh at you.

"Such a feisty one. I think we're gonna have a lot of fun with you" the tall man with the beard growled as his thumb brushed over your lips.

You had to think - fast if you wanted to get out of here in one piece.

"Let's see what you're hiding underneath" a third man with sleek dark hair laughed as he grabbed your shirt ripping it open leaving you in your bra as the shirt hung loosely over your shoulders.

"What a nice view" he mocked liking his lips as the other two took a step back to let the sight sink in. His hands were moving closer trying to touch your skin when the door to the room suddenly swung open.

"What's going on here" a deep voice shouted behind you.

The men were startled, fear across their faces.

"I'm sorry sir we were just havin some fun" the dark haired man apologized with a shaky voice.

You heard heavy footsteps moving closer.

"Look who we have here" the strangly familiar sounding voice said as the footsteps stopped in front of you.

"Oh fucking hell, no" you said as you looked right into Kid's eyes.

"Oh yes." he mocked with a smugly grin. He looked you up and down smiling at your demise.

"I've been told that you were messing with my subordinate crew about some treasure and I've gotta admit I love the sight of you bound to a chair unable to get away" he continued making fun of you as his huge frame hovered above you.

"Fuck off, asshole"

Kid's eyes wandered to the interrogation box.

"What's with that. Were you about to torture her" he asked pointing at the box.

"She wouldn't tell where we can find it, so we decided to help her talk" the captain said as his crew chuckled.

"You think you could get her to talk with that. She's tougher than that and too stubborn to give in believe me" Kid stated looking at you.

"But sir I'm-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kid yelled as he leaned forward his face close to yours.

"Funny how things worked out, huh? Here we are again. You, me, and some unfinished business" he almost whispered. You tensed not knowing where this was going.

"Get the fuck out of here" he suddenly shouted not removing his eyes from you.

You heard some shifting around you and then the pirates leaving while you were unable to avoid Kid's gaze.

"What's with this treasure" he asked his voice low and dangerous.

"I have no idea why everyone believes I know something about it" you said trying to be convincing.

Kid placed his flesh hand on your thigh and his metal hand on the chairs armrest as he leaned even closer trapping you beneath him and whispering in your ear. "I know you're lying. I know you better than anyone else" His lips brush against your ear his hot breath tickling you.

He moved a little to look you in the eyes before flashing a small smile.

The moment the pirates left was the moment the tension shifted. You weren't scared of getting physically hurt you knew Kid would never do that to you. Though you were still a little anxious. Kid had other ways to get what he wanted.

"What now" you asked nervously.

"Now I'm going to continue the interrogation my way, unless you want to talk to me" he growled evilly.

"Wait what-" Panic was rising inside you.

"Yeah I will have you answer every question I ask" he taunted as he dragged a finger from your collarbone between your boobs and down to your belly button, sending shivers down your spine, knowing exactly what he's doing.

He kept staring at his finger which still rested on your skin before he lifted his head.

"Now let the fun begin. The first question is easy. What's with this whole treasure thing?"

You sighed as he leaned back on the chair arms crossed.

"I might have found a map to a hidden treasure and a man on this island helped me reading it as I tried to leave your friends caught me" you explained.

"Where is the map"

"Like hell I tell you that's my treasure" you complained.

"That's not the correct answer" he smirked as he got off the chair to crouch down right before you. He grabbed one of your legs lifted it up and attacked your inner thigh with his mouth.

You gasped out of surprise cursing the shorts you wore. A small moan escaping your lips as you could feel him smile into your skin.

"Fuck stop that" you whined. He stopped but didn't let go of your leg.

"Then answer my question" he demanded

"It's in my boot. The one on the leg you're holding"

Gentle fingertips moved along your leg to your boot before pulling the map out.

"Good girl" he teased as he put your leg down and took his seat again.

"That was the easy part, now it will get tough"

"Great" you said as you tried to think of a way out.

He hesitated and suddenly something in his demenour changed.

"Why did you leave" he asked catching you off guard.

Suddenly the tension in the room became unbearable. You wanted out right now. The memory of the day you left him was too painful and you didn't want to think about it. Seeing him there right in front of you was already hard enough.

You lowered your head and he knew you wouldn't say a word. He got angry. He wanted, no he nedded to know why.

"You don’t want to talk about it?" Kid tilted his head, eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "Fine. I’ll just have to get my answers" he snapped before attacking you again this time his mouth made contact with the tender flesh of your belly. He started biting, sucking and pulling on it - probably leaving marks.

"Kid" you stuttered voice shaky.

"Don't 'Kid' me now. What was it? Was I not enough? Did you find someone better?" he asked angrily as his mouth kept roughly devouring you. Knowing that this would get to you, it always did.

How you had missed this. How you were craving for his lips all over your body. But you couldn't let this happen. No. You left him almost a year ago, determined to never meet him again - the memories of your time together too painful.

He stopped his assault and instead placed small kisses from your waistline up to your chest before moving to your neck.

"You changed" you hitched as the sensation of him sucking on your neck became too much. He stopped, letting go of you.

You took a deep breath. "You changed - not for the good."

"What do you mean?" he asked and you were sure you could hear anger in his voice.

"You've become ruthless, and you pushed me away because you became obssessed with power and revenge and I couldn't take it anymore" you continued biting back a tear .

For a moment he stood there saying nothing but you could see his jaw clenching.

"You couldn't take it! Did you ever wonder what it was like for me when you just left" he shouted, now making you angry too.

"For fuck's sake I was constantly worried about you" you almost screamed. Kid blinked, taken aback by what you just said, though he tried not to show it outright. "You started to throw yourself into danger almost like you were on a suicide mission, like your life doesn't matter" you continued as the anger slowly subdued.

Kid stared at you for a long moment clenching his fist. "And all this time, you never thought to tell me this"

"What should I have said. Oh love please stop being a fucking menace because I'm terrified that you could die. Would you have listened to me?" and there was the anger again.

He said nothing knowing that you made a point. He would have listened to you but he probably would have brushed your concerns off.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you simmered, heavy with unresolved feelings.

"Do you still love me?" he asked looking at you intensely as you couldn't stop a tear from rolling down your face.

"You know the answer" you mumbled.

This moment, this vulnerability in your gaze reminded him of the times you've spent together. He started to realize that he missed you more than he wanted to admit.

"Last question before the games' over" he said his voice a mixture of anger, frustration and fear.

"Would you give me a second chance"

"I...." you paused not knowing what to say. Part of you wanted to scream yes but another part reminded you of why you left him.

"Forget it this whole thing was stupid from the start" he got up angrily and frustrated knocking the chair down in the process before aggressivly freeing you from your restraints.

"You're free to go better take the opportunity" he growled as you rubbed your wrists. You got up and moved towards the door hand already on the handle when you stopped and turned to look at him.

"What were you doing on this ship?" you asked eyes narrowing.

"None of your business" he snapped avoiding your gaze, muscles tensing.

You stepped closer stopping in front of him. "Funny that a treasure map that so many would like to have in their hands ends up in mine." you started observing him closely. "Now that I think about it what's even funnier is that on this whole treasure hunt I not once had to fight off someone or even got in trouble"

He tensed his jaw clenching, eyes focused on the ground.

"Why" you asked softly.

Your words hit a nerve, and Kid finally looked at you, his expression torn between anger and frustration.

"You think I let you run around chasing this treasure knowing how many other pirates are after it without keeping an eye on you."

You looked at him confused

"I had someone slip you the map, I remembered how your eyes gleamed everytime we went on a treasure hunt. So I made sure you got it, but then I found out that this was a map a lot of people wanted and i got worried." he continued his explanation

"You should never find out but who would have guessed that I had to jump in against my own subordinates." He mutters almost ashamed.

"You protected me the whole time?" you hadn’t expected this, heart racing as you tried to process the revelation.

Kid scoffed trying to hide his emotions. Secretly hoping that this might bring you back to him. Even though he knew better.

"Softie" you teased with a small laugh.

He stepped closer to you. "If you keep mocking me I'll tie you back down" he growled making you raise your hands in defense.

"And now go, before I change my mind and drag you back into this mess." he muttered. You could almost see his heart ache, no matter how hard he tried to hide it he didn't want you to go.

Once again you hesitated it was as if your head was already out the door but your heart couldn't move.

"Why are you doing this to me? To you? You should have let me go." You said close to tears.

"You think I can just turn it off? That I can forget everything we had? I may not be good at this 'feelings' crap, but even I know when I’m not ready to let go" he scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"There was not a day I wasn't thinking about you" you almost whispered as you closed your eyes the truth weighing heavily on your chest

Kid froze not quite believing what he just heard. He swallowed hard running his hand through his hair. You had meant to keep your feelings buried, to shield you from the pain.

"Even after everything?" He asked his voice unusally calm.

"I did, even when I shouldn’t have. I thought about all the things we shared, the way it ended… everything"

Kid’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

"I thought about you too, every damn day. But it was easier to pretend I didn’t." He replied.

KId's vulnerability was raw and that's why you appreciated this so much. The fact that he let you see this side of him meant more than anything to you.

But it also made everything so much more complicated.

"What now?" You asked fumbling nervously with your fingers.

"You leave but the map remains with me" he said coldly, trying to convince himself that this was the best for both of you.

"Seriously! That's my map and my treasure. And i won't let you take it from me" you shouted a mix of anger and boldness in your voice.

He looked at you and laughed devilish.

"Keep on dreaming mouse, the map is mine and now you better leave" he said dangerously as he waved the map before you.

You tried to grab for it but he just lifted it over your head . You lunged forward trying to reach for it until he wrapped his metallic arm around your waist.

The heat of his body causing your cheeks to flush. A shiver running down your spine as his muscular body was pressed against yours.

This was wrong you shouldn't enjoy it yet you did.

You looked at him leaning closer your lips mere inches from his. Both of your hearts were racing. You wanted to kiss him so badly but then you snatched the map out of his hand, wirggled out of his grasp and made for the door.

"Better hurry big boy otherwise you might lose sight of me" you teased as your ran out of the door smiling.

He stood there for a moment dumbstruck before an evilly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The thrill of the chase stirred something primal in him, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

"You can run all you want, but you know I love a good chase" he shouted after you.

[spotsandsocks]

Vampire!Buck munching on cardboard because it feels kinda good

Eddie: Wtf are you doing Buck?

😆😆😆

Well that had just put a big smile on my face thank you - and now beloved anon I hope you read this and enjoy (based in same universe as my recent vamp! Buck fic.

“Can I have this?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder to see Buck holding up the box that Christopher’s new trainers got delivered in.

It’s an innocent enough request Buck must need to post something, so he says yes. Why wouldn’t he, it’s good to recycle after all.

It’s odd though because he spots it the next time he’s at Buck’s loft in the recycling bin. It’s definitely the same one because it has the same logo on it. Except it now has several dozen little puncture marks along the edges. Odd but not anything particularly worrying.

Except he finds the same puncture marks on not one but two boxes in the storage closet at the station the following week and then again in a cereal box in his own recycling bin. That one’s been shoved down to the bottom but the wind caught him as he was carrying it all out to the bins so he ended up collecting cardboard and paper from his front yard and staring at the now familiar marks in his own cereal box that he knew he hadn’t put there. It can’t be mice, the bite marks are too big, and that’s what they are bite marks. It looks like a cat has been chewing along the edge, he doesn’t have a cat though. What he does have is a vampire for a boyfriend. A theory starts to form along with a plan to get to the bottom of this little mystery.

He starts leaving out more boxes at home and at Buck’s, also at work to test the theory.

It’s not untill he’s letting himself into Buck’s loft that he gets to the bottom of it. As he walks in he catches sight of Buck behind his kitchen island, the door opening has his boyfriend jumping half way into the sky and spinning so his back is to the door. He had something in his hand. Eddie just catches the sound of something firm but not heavy hitting the ground as Buck turns back around, the perfect picture of guilt.

Trying not to sound too amused he asks his boyfriend casually“what ya doing?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie is well versed in “Buck” and that nothing was definitely a something.

He wanders over until he’s on the same side of the island and he’s looking down at their feet while Buck is looking anywhere but.

On the floor between them is a cardboard box. Eddie stares at his competition.

“Well I can’t say I’d expected to be replaced by the recycling.”

Buck pushes his shoulder with a roll of his eyes and a quiet “shut up” He’s a delightful shade of pink so he must have fed recently.

“Is this another stupid diet?”

Eddie manages to keep a straight face and is rewarded with the reaction he’d hoped for.

“Fuck off! That was a food plan!”

Eddie gives into the grin. “Sure thing baby, and the cardboard is???”

“I just like it ok. It feels good, fun. I like punching the little holes”

Eddie almost loses it when Buck makes a little biting gesture to demonstrate.

“Do you now?”

“Yeah.” Buck shrugs half a smile on his face, “I like making patterns. “

Eddie nods with an amused pout as he starts to unpack the shopping he’d brought over so they could cook, “ok then, don’t let me stop you, nibble away Picasso. ”

Buck scoops to pick up the box and toses it towards the recycling. “You’re hilarious- really”

“At least I know what to get you for Christmas this year.” Eddie smirks at the response.

“Don’t you dare!”

He does dare and gets his ridiculous adorable vampire boyfriend a range of cardboard boxes of various sizes, types and construction for Christmas. Buck pulls a face and throws a pillow at him when he opens his gift but his eyes light up anyway and he starts a range of experiments that keep him happy for hours as he works through the different textures to find out which ones are his favourite.

Eddie watches with a fond and indulgent smile. Chris shakes his head in despair and Buck with a delighted grin finally declares that a medium weight corrugated cardboard provides the superior biting experience by far; at least in terms of cardboard.

He makes it perfectly clear later that his top favourite thing to bite is still Eddie.