#Walter can do much without him after all...

[lexumpysfunland]

Damn, Swap! Stanley is toxic..... I LOVE it! :)

He's fiiiineee... We love a crazy Stanley at times. He is more in control than his Walter at least. Someone has to be leader in the duo :)

[avis-writeshq]

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

*** 

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[billfarrah]

One thing that’s really rubbing me the wrong way about some people’s reaction to the ending is the way people are talking about Wille. I see comments that essentially imply he is nothing without his privilege backing him, that he has no personality outside of his relationship with Simon and he’s gonna be in for a rude awakening after the ending when he realizes the attention on him isn’t gone just because he’s giving up the title of Crown Prince and life as a normal person isn’t going to be an easy or smooth road.

To me it seems like the message has completely gone over some people’s heads.

No part of me felt while watching the ending that everything is now resolved and Wille will live happily ever after without any adversity ever again… No?

The point is he finally has a choice where he ends up.

Wille literally explains this to the Queen in the final scene - that he’s never felt like he’s had a choice. He didn’t choose to be born into the royal family, and as he points out to his mother, neither did she. The public didn’t choose who inherits the crown. None of them chose it. Wille wants a choice. By staying in this role and doing what is expected of him simply because it’s his birthright is exactly what Wille is actively fighting against.

Another common thread I’ve seen thrown around is that Wille has no personality outside of Simon and I think people need to realize that one’s hobbies and interests do not define their personality. Wille very much has a personality and he had one before he met Simon - he’s always been the type to question the status quo and why things are the way they are. In season 1 episode 1, before Wille meets Simon, we see Wille scoffing at being made to mingle and pose for photos with people he doesn’t know and we see him telling Henry and Walter they’re allowed to have their own opinions when they mindlessly agree with everything he says. If anything, he starts losing this side of his personality because of the restrictions the crown puts on him. Wille falling in line with his expectations throughout the series takes him further away from this side of himself that’s always been there. We see how detrimental this is not just to his relationship with Simon, but with Wille’s relationship with himself. How exactly is Wille supposed to find what he’s passionate about when he’s consistently being told that these are the things he should care about, this is how he needs to look to the public? This is all a very intentional narrative choice to demonstrate why Wille staying in his role is detrimental to his mental health and his ability to grow personally.

The ending is not saying “everything is fixed now and Wille will have a totally adversity-free life with Simon.” Nothing is fixed and nothing is certain, but at least he made a choice. He’s going to stumble and he’s going to continue to make mistakes and a life path is not going to construct itself for him, but at least he now has a choice. He doesn’t have to pick a hobby or interest that’s considered suitable for him. He can get tattoos if he wants to. He can get married or not get married. He can have kids or not have kids. He can go to university and study whatever he wants, and yes, he will still have his family’s money. He’s not gonna be destitute and that is indeed a privilege that Wille is aware of. Should he stay in a role he doesn’t want simply and that makes him miserable because he’s privileged? For all we know, maybe his family will cut him off and he’ll literally be on his own, and that’s a risk he’s willing to take to be, in his mind, free.

The public is not suddenly going to lose interest in him, but at least he won’t have to concern himself with the royal court dictating how he and Simon act or appear. He will no longer feel like he needs to control how Simon conducts his social media presence. It’s very clear in s3 that Wille is not personally upset with Simon for posting the song or the picture with the little boy at the worker’s March - he smiles when he sees it - but that he’s worried what the royal court is going to think about it.

As far as the idea that Wille giving up the crown at the end was indeed for Simon because Wille has no identity without Simon, I really don’t think this is fair to say at all, because Wille was unhappy with his position even before he met Simon. He hated that he couldn’t even do something silly and reckless without issuing an apology. He hated that he had to uproot his entire life because he made a mistake and his family was trying to save his image in the eyes of the public. The thing is, before he met Simon, and before the events of the series, Wille didn’t feel like he had a way out, and funnily enough, that’s for the exact same reason people are dunking on him for now - because it’s the only way of life he knew. He didn’t see a way out and it’s through being with Simon that his extremely narrow view of the world gets challenged and he’s finally able to see a way out. Did Simon inspire him to do what he did? Of course he did. This entire concept is materialized through the scene where Simon tells Wille that he never had a choice who he was born as and that he sees how the monarchy makes him feel. To say that Wille gave it up for Simon implies, to me, that Wille would’ve been happy in the role if not for Simon, which I don’t believe is true. He’d still be miserable but perhaps feel less like he has the agency to do things about it. Getting to be with Simon at the end is certainly a big part of why he did it, but that also just kinda goes hand in hand with his own personal freedom, doesn’t it?

I find it kinda funny how much the internet preaches that it’s never too late to figure out who you are or what you wanna do and I see people acting like Wille is somehow doomed because he’s a 17-year-old without any interests or hobbies. Wille’s entire struggle is with having his life completely mapped out for him and it’s like with him giving up his role people are now questioning the fact that he doesn’t have an entire life mapped out for himself. I spent my time when I was 17 blogging on tumblr and doing nothing else and didn’t go to college until I was 24. I’m 29 now and I’m still learning what I’m passionate about. To treat Wille’s lack of hobbies or interests as some kind of moral failure or indicative of a lack of personality really, really bothers me and to me his lack of interests and hobbies has always been a very intentional writing choice, and the ending, if anything, gives him all the time in the world to figure that out. He might even develop an interest and then realize it’s not for him! The amount of people I know that went to college for what they thought they wanted to do then dropped out because they changed their mind, or graduated from school, couldn’t find a job, and then went back to school for something else is endless. This is all part of the human experience and it’s going to be an entirely new journey for him, but that part of his journey did not a part of this particular story, and in that way, the ending is open. It also helps that regardless of Wille’s wealth and privilege, education in Sweden is FREE.

In the end, the message of the ending is exactly what Boris said to Wille in season 2: we can’t choose who we are born as, but we can choose how we want to live, and that’s exactly what the ending is saying, and that’s what Edvin meant when he said the ending is open. Wille’s road is not suddenly going to be perfect and easy, but at least all of his choices, including his mistakes and struggles, can be entirely his own.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 5

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Three times. Walter, Mr. Marshall, Detective, whoever he is that day, has driven by your house three times. Three times that you’ve noticed. 

The first time you recognised his car, you were taking out the trash. The second time, you were making sure your siblings got on the bus for school. And the third time, you’re coming out the front door, in uniform as you mentally steel yourself for another day at the grocery store. 

You try not to be too obvious as you look for him. You set out on your usual route, a peek here and there over your shoulder, a strategic glance down the street as you turn to cross. Maybe he can stop you for jaywalking. A perfect excuse for him to swing around his weight. 

You take out your phone as you come in sight of the plaza with the grocery store at its centre. Still not word from Faye. You really don’t expect her to be the first to reach out. You’re still sore yourself. It isn’t just that she ditched you, again, it’s that she was so quick to believe you sold her out. She knows the way her father is and yet just like him, she assumes you’re in the wrong. 

As you approach the front doors of the store, you glance back at the lot. It’s sparse with vehicles, still early enough that stockers work at the shelves and the deli still fills its baskets with slices and salads. You clock in and tie on your apron, taking your vigil behind a till. Debbie leaves you as the sole cashier as she goes to do her counts. 

You stare across the store, vision blurring, as the ceiling speakers drone out 80s pop. Your eyes nearly cross at the orbs of colours that form around you; the medley of produce, the smear of labels, and the looming shade of endless aisles. As you detach yourself from the monotony, you’re filled with a cloud of futile acceptance. Every day for the rest of your life. 

Last year, you still had hope. You remember you told Faye you could save up and join her at college. That’s definitely not going to happen. You barely saved a nickel. Just like high school, your cheques were spent picking up after your mom’s job hopping. Your siblings can’t go without food or clothes or everything you didn’t have. Even when you get a few staples free from the clearance cart, you’re still paying far too much just to feed the lot. 

Chrissie is almost fourteen now. She offered to put in an application but she’s still a few years from all that. Besides, you don’t want her to be like you. Only ever worrying about the empty fridge and your mom’s latest antics.  

Zooey is only ten and blissfully unconcerned with anything but anime and drawing in her sketchbook, and your brother, Milo, seven, likes to bring home frogs and snakes. They’re both too young to sense anything is off, though at times, they ask you very pertinent questions about the other kids in their class. 

You sigh. You never wanted this life. Against your will, you’ve inherited your mother’s lot. Your siblings need a parent and she’s not willing to be one. So, you’ll just have to ring through eggs and milk for the rest of your life and make sure they aren’t caught in the same bog. 

“Hey,” the sharp greeting draws you back. 

You blink and shake away the daze. You look over at Mr. Marshall. Not again. You do your best to smooth the worry from your forehead and reach for the sole item on the belt. An excuse, you’re sure. 

You can through the breakfast tray of a hardboiled egg, pita, hummus, cheese, and grapes. The beep chirps harshly in your ears as he stares you down over the top of your till. You stifle a yawn as you hover your hand over the buttons. 

“That everything?” You ask dully. 

“You looked worried,” he moves to lean on the other side of debit machine, where his tray awaits him. “Like maybe you’re keeping secrets.” 

You huff, “I told you I haven’t heard from Faye.” 

“I didn’t ask.” 

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” you snap, “are you going to pay or do you want me to put this back, detective?” 

“I’m off duty,” he tilts his head, “night shift.” 

“Great, so credit or cash?” 

He puffs through his nostrils and squares his jaw, “lot of kids running around your place, huh?” 

“No,” you say curtly, “don’t.” 

“I’m just tryna figure out where my kid is. Pretty crowded at yours so... maybe she’s somewhere else.” 

“Maybe she is,” you utter in exasperation, “but I guess it doesn’t matter how many times I tell you that I don’t know where. You're still going to waste my time. And yours. So, please sir, cash or credit?” 

He scoffs and looks around, the place is still desolate, “you got time.” 

But you don’t have the patience. You barely keep from the retort. You turn and start tidying the till, distracting yourself as you rearrange your sanitizer and check the bin in case it was missed. 

“She’s my daughter. How would you feel if one of your sisters ran off, huh?” 

“You don’t get to talk about my sisters,” you turn back to him, “fine, alright, you want evidence, I’ll give you evidence, sir.” You take out your phone and flick through it in frustration, “the last message she sent me was the night we went out.” You turn the screen to him, “she hasn’t texted, she hasn’t called. Happy? Cause I don’t think she’s interested in being my friend anymore. She’s finally outgrown the poor girl.” 

You can’t help but throw the phone at him as your emotion wells up, “she was only ever friends with me to piss you off. Like I said, I’m not stupid. I just--” you cut yourself off, “I got work to do.” 

You turn back to the screen at your shoulder and brace the cash drawer. You take a slow breath and let it out. You’re embarrassed. He finally did it. He finally got you to crack. You refuse to look at him as he gently places your phone on the counter. 

“Got it,” he says softly, “she isn’t with you.” He clears his throat and shifts, “debit.” 

You grit your teeth, staring at the screen as you hit the button to activate the pin pad, “go ahead.” 

You listen to the beep of each button as he puts in his pin. You wait and the till chimes as the transaction goes through. You rip of the receipt and drop it beside you on the counter without looking. You can hear everything, even the soft noise of him slipping his card back in his wallet. You keep your attention on the monitor. 

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he says. 

Your furrow your nose as you listen to his footsteps and only turn when you hear the automatic door whoosh. You look down at your phone beside the tray of food, the receipt laid neatly over it. You peek up at the doors and your stomach growls. 

His pity is hardly preferable to his spite. 

[iouinotes]

Beautiful Boy | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter Boys

warnings: mostly fluff and love confessions, but a bit of implied sexual activities

word count: 4,6k

summary: You are completely in love with your best friend. When the chance is given, you decide to finally take it and show your love.

a/n: The story will mention a review from the past, where they play truth or dare. So, I was inspired to write that scenario: match made in heaven is here!

He's everything I ever wished for. It´s silly, thinking about it, really. My ongoing crush for him since the first time I met him all these years ago.

It was during the first day after the winter holiday. It was dark outside, very cold and rainy weather. Well, unfortunately it did not look like that in the morning, so I instantly panicked after school, because I forgot to bring my jacket. Normally one of my friends picked me up after school and drove me home, but she was sick today and I heard about her being ill, last minute.

So now I´m standing in the hallway, debating if I should better start to go to the bus station (probably getting soaked) or if I just walk to the school library, hoping that the weather cools down. I was drowning in my own thoughts, when I first heard his voice.

"Are you okay?" The second my eyes landed on him, I was gone for good. Because the boy in front of me was utterly beautiful. Handsome round face, freckles, warm brown eyes and a shy smile. One look at him and I fell in love with his beauty. Little did I know, I would soon fall head over heals for his personality or the way his voice sounds when he is making fun of me, because I believe in love at first sight. How could I not, when I have met him?

He was very caring the first time we met. Even though I was embarrassed of my situation, he made me feel comfortable. When I told him about my difficulty, he instantly helped me out. He told me, that his brother also picked him up from school every day, so it wouldnt be a problem, if I came along. Not only this sweet gesture made me speechless, it was also the way he stripped out of his jacket and gave it to me without hesitation, when we went outside and he saw that I didnt bring a jacket.

"What? No, I can´t-" I tried to argue, but one blink of his lashes, one look at his eyes, was enough to keep me occupied. "My mom would kill me, if I didnt. It´s okay, I dont mind." He really was the sweetest. His jacket kept in fact, keep me warm. And it also smelled like him, thats what made me blush in the end. I didnt know, if he noticed me looking at him from time to time (but then again, he nowadays didnt noticed it either), but I could not contain myself.

He was a gentleman, shy and adorable. He was all I wished for in a guy. When his brother - who I idetified as the most popular guy of our school- Cole, came in sight, only then it clicked. The boy in front of me, with his nervous smile, was Alex Walter.

When the car parked and the headlights were visible in the rain, we quickly ran to the blue vehicle. His brother didnt talk much, so the car ride was mostly quiet, my eyes were out the window and my thoughts were on Alex previous gesture of holding the door open for me. He didnt intend for me to fall in love with him, but I couldnt think of anything else to do, better than exactly that.

"I didnt get your name?" was all he said, when the car stopped in front of my house. "Oh right, sorry. Im y/n." He smiled again at me and my heart wanted to jump out off my chest. I didnt really notice Cole in the front and his famous "Cole effect". I was all catched up, by the beautiful boy next to me.

"Alex" he shook my hand and it made me giggle. I saw his ears turning pink at my laughter, so I smiled at him, so he knew I wasnt making fun of him. He relaxed then, but much to my dislike the blonde brother spoke up, before I could say something else. "I dont have all day, so are you two done looking at each other or can you go now? I swear, I saw y´all nearly kiss." At that, I was the one who turned red. "Sorry, thanks for the ride and-" as I wanted to strip off the jacket, Alex stopped my movements. "Oh no, you can have it. I mean- it´s still raining outside, I-I dont want you to get sick." Maybe I was already at that exact moment, falling in love with him. I also think, that his words made my cheeks turn a shade of red, that wasnt even on a scala anymore, because it was so high.

"But when do I give it back to you?" The last thing I wanted to do, was crossing a line with the Walter brothers. And maybe I also hoped to see him again. "Tomorrow? I will be in the gaming room in third grade. If thats okay with you?" He spoke quickly, because Cole kept getting more annoyed. "No, its fine. Thank you, Alex." I kissed him on the cheek (dont know where that one came from) and before I could look back, I was already out of the car and running towards the house. When I opened the door and the warmth embraced me, I looked out of the window from my house. The car was already gone, but I remember smiling so bright, I almost could not contain the happy feeling that consumed me.

That was the first time, my diary heard of Alex Walter.

The next day, I searched through three gaming rooms before I finally found him, starring at his laptop. As soon as I tapped him gently on the shoulder, he turned around and looked at me suprised. When he asked me, if I had had any trouble finding him, I said "what no, it took five minutes", when in reality it took 20 minutes, but he sounded really sincere, so it didnt matter.

That was the start of our ever-lasting friendship. We became best friends quickly and are verly close ever since, he is my other half. We are always together, in the hallway, at lunch, we see each other at the weekends and we even got the price "the best of best friends" by our friendgroup. I mean it was funny and its nice, really. But it says everything. We are just friends.

It´s very funny actually, because he knows me better than anyone and I can´t keep one secret from him. He just knows, when something is up. But my biggest secret of all time, that was the part where he was clueless about.

My love for him.

He just doesnt notice and I tried to not show it, but everyone knows I like him. Well, expect for him. When I look at him too long, because I (again) got lost in his eyes or looked a second too long at his lips, while he talked, he thinks he has something on his face. When I compliment him, for literal anything, he thinks I make fun of him, so he doesn't take it seriously. And I tried almost everything, so he could finally notice. Maybe then he could make the first move.

I once talked about my ideal type, because it was a truth or dare on my birthday party and I literally described him - he didnt notice. I swoon on a daily basis over his beauty, his intelligence , his personality, his habits, his cute flaws like staying up all night to play a video game - he doesnt know. I tried to learn his favorite video game, I read the Lord of the Rings saga, I even watched baseball games with him, I do anything so he will notice, how much I care about him. But he just doesn't get it.

If I would know, he simply didnt like me that way, I could somehow cope with that. But then, there are moments, where I would catch him starring at me, where he seems to be the one wanting me. He watches romantic movies with me and lets me cry about it after, when I´m sad about the ending, Sometimes I even get to lay on his chest. He listens when I talk about my newest book obsession, he goes shopping with me, even though he hates it. He helps me studying and I can tell him anything, he´s always there for me.

So it could be, that maybe my feelings were not completely unrequited. But then again, why didnt he made a move by now? Nevertheless, it keeps me awake at night. Because I want nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, feel his skin against mine, to look at his eyes and study every single freckle from his neck to his forehead. I want to love him. In a way, he knows it.

These feelings, these thoughts are constantly in my head. Especially now, when I sit across him and simply look at his concentrated face. His eyebrows are drawn together, he´s currently biting on his bottom lip, his nose scrunched in a frown. The light of his room shows me every little detail of his face. In moments like this, on a friday evening, where we study together for a biology test, I wish he would know how I feel about him. Because it would make everything so much easier.

Its currently raining outside, a remember of our first encounter, the clouds are dark and I hear loud thunder since the last couple of minutes went by. "Do you think, it will get better? The weather clearly looks bad." I shift my gaze to look at him and when I catch him starring at me, my heart swells in my chest.

I want to break the distant between us and close the gap of our lips. Want to get to know every little detail of his body. But as he speaks up, I clear my head. "I dont know, Danny said something about a storm. I honestly didnt know, it would be that bad." He closes his textbook and stands up, looking out the window. ,,Should I go?" My question suprises him. "Now? I think if you take a step outside, you will get swept up by your feet. It´s not safe." He looks at me unwary. "I dont know, I always wanted to fly. Maybe thats a sign." I grin at him and he laughs quietly. "Yeah, of course. Let me ask my dad, what he thinks is for the best. Maybe he can get you an umbrella and you do your best Mary Poppins impression."

~~~~~~

30 minutes later I find myself in a full-on Walter-family-disscussion. "But uncle! I dont get to have girls stay overnight. Thats unfair!" Lee is looking at George, unable to hide his jealousy. "When did a girl ever wanted to stay overnight with you?" Isaac asks from across the table. Lee just ignores him, an angry look in his eyes.

"Look, its nothing that I will allow forever. But right now, she cant go home, so she is welcomed to stay here." I smile at him, thankful that I´m not getting thrown out. "Also, she is like a thirteen family member. She´s practically living here." George added. One look at Alex and I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was I just like a sister to him? "Okay enough of that. Y/n, dear you are welcome to stay the night. We will figure it out. Nathan is staying with Skylar, so his bed is free." I´m glad, Katherine is here. I thank her and George and by the time, we ate dinner and Alex got me a toothbrush, so I could get ready for bed, it was late after 11.

As I make my way back to Alex's room after using the bathroom to change into my clothes, leaving me with shorts and a shirt, Cole is suddenly standing next to me. "Well, what a great opportunity for you." He grins at me. At his comment, I am visible confused. "What do you mean?" I look up to his smiling figure. "You have him all by yourself, of course. Your chance to finally do something. I can´t stand it anymore, you like him and he likes you. I always thought you were the clever one out of you two, so please put everyone out of this misery and kiss him, because he´s a complete idiot. It's long overdue for you two to get together."

His words leave me stunned. After he´s done talking, he makes his way silently back to his own room and I´m still standing in the hallway, trying to process his words. Kiss him. He likes you. Does Alex really likes me or is that some cruel joke for Cole? I hope not. Because my friends have told me several times, that they think, Alex likes me too. But I always thought, they were wrong.

My heart is heavily pounding as I make my way back to his room, taking a deep breath as I open the door. Alex is playing a video game, as always, but I see that he also changed into something more comfortable. It helps me calm down my nerves, when I see him doing something, he always does. I take a few steps towards his chair and his concentrated figure.

I mean, what was there in life, if I didnt take any risks? If he likes me back, it could be the answer to all my dreams and if not - well, the weather was still going pretty bad and could help me out of the awkward situation.

When I decided to test their he-likes-you-too-theory, I quickly came up with a plan. Okay, so I wasnt the best at flirting, that was for sure, but I could make a move. For starters, I wanted something, I often thought about.

As I stand behind him, I trace my fingers along his shoulders, hearing his surprised breath, that he quickly tries to hide. Well too bad, I heard it.

"Alex?" My voice is quiet.

"...yes?" I can see his muscles tense, while I keep touching his shoulders, going lower until I touch his arm. Something about what Cole said, about Alex liking me, gives me a certain confidence, that wasnt there before. Please dont let the King of hooking up be wrong.

"Could I borrow one of your hoodies? I´m freezing and only have my shirt." I try not to think about the possibility that he laughs in my face and says no. But then again, I know that Alex wouldnt do that. "I-uh, yeah. You can, um, grab one out of my closet." I smile to myself, when I see his eyes nervously scanning the display. He paused the game, even though he doesnt look at me while he talks.

"Thanks." As I turn towards his closet, I get the feeling that he´s secretly watching me choose a hoodie. When I get a hold on a dark green one, I immediately know its the one from when we first met. I take it and walk towards the other bed, getting a glimpse of his eyes, that continue to follow me. And then I do something, I thought I would never do in front of him. I change out of my top, the cold air hitting my skin and I hear him gasps.

When I change into his hoodie, a settling warmth embraces me. I smile to myself, a joy blooms in my chest, the feeling of wearing his clothes, makes me feel too good to be true. The shorts I´m wearing are the same ones as before and I think, that I kinda like the casual look. And maybe it looks fine, that could be a good way to get Alex attention. My shorts cover my thighs, but because his hoodie is bigger than what I normally wear, this way it looks like I only wear his hoodie.

When I turn around and fix my hair, he already started another game again. Okay, mission getting-some-sort-of-reaction, is starting to get interesting. "Soo, what do you think? Too big?" I wait for his reaction. When he slowly turns around, one hand holding up his headphones, I see him trying not to stare too hard. But since I see his eyes scanning my body, it´s impossible for him to pretend. I smile to myself.

"And?" I make a step in his direction, watching him swallow. His eyes wander to the floor and a nervous expression crosses his face. "I- I need to finish this game so-" he turns around so fast, I´m almost surprised his neck didnt broke. Shit. That wasnt part of the plan. I glance around the room, trying to come up with something, another way to keep his attention at me. I sit on his bed, near his computer and decide to watch him play. I hear the sound of the game playing in the background, while I continue to think of a way for him to notice me.

And even though I keep my hands to myself, I see him sqirming in his seat. I laugh quietly. "Everything okay?" it seems he isnt that concentrated anymore. "Yeah, uh, are you bored? You never watch me play." His head turns to look at me. "You could teach me some moves." I say, looking at him and then the game, that shows a spider attacking some creature. He raises his eyebrows at my words.

"You sure? I thought you didnt like video games." My eyes wander to his lap as I quickly come up with a plan. "Maybe I will like it, if you show me some tricks. And also, I like you and you´re really interested in gaming, so I thought I could make an effort." His cheeks are blushing, my eyes are starring at his clueless ones.

A smile tucks at his lips, but he tries to keep his cool. "I mean, I´m really good at this, so I could teach you one or two lessons. Where do you want to sit? I only have one gaming chair, but-" he glances around the room, trying to come up with something.

"Well, we could share?" I ask, my voice sounding sincere and not as much thrilled at the idea, to sit in his lap, even though I am freaking out in my thoughts. His eyes widen, when he realizes what I just said.

"You want to-" he doesn't finish his sentence, stuttering at the idea of me sitting on his lap. "If thats okay with you, of course? I think its the best solution, I mean I do want the full experience. So its fair." I see him nervously licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. Okay, cool, how do you want to-" I smile at him and his nervous speech. "Just relax, I dont bite. You do know that, right?" I laugh when I see his ears turning pink.

"Right. So uh, come here, I guess?" He puts his arms on the armrests to give me good access and I feel myself getting nervous. God, I never got to be this close to him. I stand up, his eyes take my form in his sweater in, I see him starring at the naked skin. And when I see something shining in his hair, I act without a second thought.

"You have something in your hair, dummy." It's a little paper ball from Benny, probably from the previous dinner (fight), I lean myself down, facing him forward in his lap and cross my legs over his thighs. I don't notice what position we are in until I lean back to show him the piece of paper and suddenly, I'm just a few centimeters from his face. Shocked by the less to no space we have left between us, he doesn't speak and neither do I. We just look at each other.

"i-i got it." The words leave my mouth, the distance between our faces -god his lips look so soft- leaves me speechless. It takes him a moment, but when he answers he sounds just as out of breath as me.

"thanks."

Again, we sit in silence. Suddenly I loose my balance and I almost fall out of the chair, but his arms are quick to catch me. So now, he has his arms around my waist and my arms linger around his shoulders for support. If I would lean closer, I could kiss him.

The thought of kissing him, makes me sqirm and when he lays his hands onto my waist to still my movements, I feel dizzy. Because Im not just sitting on his legs. Indeed, I sit literally on his lap. So when I feel myself getting wet, because he makes me so touch starved, I completely loose my mind.

"Im sorry- i didnt mean to sit that way. I just-" his eyes are so fascinating, brown, green and warm. It feels like he´s looking at my soul. He´s watching my every move. I know I should probably get up, but its the first time, he is that close to me and I cant stop looking at him.

Without a thought in my head, I raise my hand and touch his cheek. I see his lips breaking apart, so he can draw a surprised breath. "You have so many freckles everywhere." My eyes wander around his face. His voice comes back to life for a second, but only to sign. "Too many, actually." I draw my eyebrows together.

"It suits you and it´s not too much. Thats a perfectly fine amount of freckles. Look-" I start to count them. Each and every one. Starting from his ears towards his cheeks, his nose, further down until I stop at his lips. "You have one right above the corner of your mouth." I mutter, my thumb brushes his lips for a second.

Caught, my eyes sneak back to search his gaze. But he just looks at me. My heart feels like it could break any second, if I dont open my mouth to say something.

"You are" I begin to say "so beautiful to me. Every freckle you have, the colour of your eyes, your hair, your lips, your voice, just you."

I cant hold back anymore.

"i-i love you, Alex. I really do. I thought it would just be a crush that would go away, when time goes on, but it hasnt. You´re in every piece of my heart, you hold it together. You are my joy, my laugh, my sadness, you were everything for me, the first second I got to know you. Because you are the best person in my life, my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime, I would bail you out of jail in a heartbeat. Without you, my heart wouldn't beat anymore anyway. Because you make it live. Every day, every time I see you. Maybe if I would have known better, I would have never agreed to take your jacket, the first time we met. If I would have known, how absolutely in love I would get with you, it would have scared me to death. But now? Now I know better than to be away from you, because I better live as your best friend than without having you in my life. Because now, being away from you would be my death."

In one second, I bail my heart out and before I know it, he takes my face in his hands and leans forward. He stops his movement right before our lips touch.

"I think you will be the death of me too, sweetheart."

And with that, he kisses me.

Slow at first, his lips touch mine, so very soft and gentle. I almost think I´m dreaming, because his lips do feel like a dream to me. His hands caress my back and I clutch to his shoulders, afraid the moment will end. His warm hands strive back to my cheeks, tilding my head in a way he can have more access.

And I let him, mainly because I´m too caught up with this emotion and also because I would let him do anything with me. My hands are in his dark hair, gently tugging at his strings, so I get to hear that little breathless sound he makes, that makes my heart flutter.

I sink in his warm embrace, moving my lips with the same rhythm as him, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. His right hand goes to the back of my neck and this action makes me weak in the knees. And he notices it. Gently he breaks apart, leaving me with the want to have more of him and when I open my eyes - I didnt know I closed them - he looks at me, like I´m the sun and he´s the moon, that was away for too long.

"God, you´re so beautiful." His voice is deep, I can hear him catch his breath. His words make my heart ache until I think it isnt able to comprehend his compliment. I feel his lips again, my eyes flutter at the contact. One hand around my hip, holding me steady and the other one, around my neck, making me unsteady.

"alex-" a moan wants to escape me, but I try to hold myself together. His lips leave my mouth and trail further down, finding a spot at the curve of my neck.

"god, yes. Say my name again." I´m pretty sure, I never wanted him more than now.

My hands linger in his hair, I feel his hot breath on my skin and clench my thighs together. He is making me feel all worked up. As his lips leave that spot, I whimper his name, but as soon as his mouth leaves my body, he reconnects with it.

Brushing my hair aside, he kisses me again for a second before he lets go of me. With that, im completely convinced he hates me, the way he´s making me suffer. I hear him quietly laugh, so I slowly open my eyes to watch his face.

"You look drunk on love. Are you alright?" He smiles at me, looking at me, like he didnt just turn my world up site down (and my panties wet, by the way).

"What?" I ask, catching my breath. His skin glows and as I watch every detail of his face (how could I not), I almost miss his next sentence. "I would have never thought that this was your idea of gaming." I feel his shoulders move, when he tries to keep himself from laughing.

I gently smile and roll my eyes. "You are just too handsome for me, to concentrate on anything other than you." His cheeks turn red and there´s a glimmer in his eyes, that makes me feel completed. "So that´s why you have bad grades in math, maybe I shouldnt be sitting next to you then." His joke makes me laugh.

"Well, maybe you can give me some private lessons, so I could improve." At that, he opens his mouth, but no words are said. "Too stunned to speak?" I lean forward, his eyes follow my lips. "You just never flirted with me, its distracting." He looks up.

I just shake my head. One of my hands sneaks around to linger at his cheek. "Oh, trust me. I have. You just never noticed." His eyebrows rise. "Thats a shame. But I guess I have now." He catches my lips.

Yes, he definitely did notice me now.

[holylulusworld]

Big grumpy bear (FIN)

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, scenting, mating, implied claiming, light smut (unprotected), needy/demanding reader, fluff,

Catch up here: Big grumpy bear (5)

Big grumpy bear masterlist

Now, …

‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’ That’s what people say. But in your case, it’s the opposite. You want to be closer to Walter. 

If you had the chance to wrap yourself around the alpha like a Koala, you’d do it all day long. 

Walter barely gets the chance to leave the bed without you making a scene. Your post-heat haze is still lingering in the back of your mind, and all you want is to stay close to your…alpha.

One week earlier, …

You crawl under the blanket, smirking as Walter is still asleep. Today you’ll get what you want. This time you won’t let him out of your clutches. He won’t resist you, not if you put your hands on him first.

“Omega, what are you doing,” Walter fights your hands. After he nursed you back to life, you became more confident around him. Now you are tugging at his boxers to get him bare. “Y/N…what?”

“I want my alpha,” you purr under the blanket. “you’ve got a nice cock, alpha.” You hum in appreciation. “I want it.”

“What?” He laughs as you crawl on top of him and poke your head out from under the blanket. “Y/N, we will take our time.”

“No, I want it now,” you wiggle on top of Walter. “I want your knot, and I want it…no, I demand your knot.” You purse your lips. 

“You want it?” He cups your cheek. “How about you get it then, hmm…? Take it, omega. Sit on top of your alpha and ride him. Make yourself cum.”

“No…I…” you wrinkle your nose. “I want you on top of me, and for you to scent me. Maybe you can nip at my neck or bite it. Hmm…can we do it without protection? Are you clean? I’m on birth control…”

“Fuck it!”

You squeak as Walter suddenly rolls you over. He crushes his lips against yours, roughly claiming your mouth. “Walter,” you breathe against his lips. “Alpha.”

He settles between your legs to rub his aching cock against you. “Do you want me?” He groans when you move your hand between your bodies to stroke his cock. “Angel, don’t do this to me.” His voice sounds strained. “Please.”

“I want you,” you purr lowly. Heat pools in your belly feeling the alpha so close, and his arousal. “Please, big bear. Make me yours.”

He cups your face and kisses you again. You don’t know if you are dreaming or not. It feels like you’re floating when Walter cups the back of your head and looks you in the eyes while teasing your entrance with his weeping cock. “I want you too.”

Your heart flutters. Not only at his admission but the feeling of his massive cock slowly inching its way inside of your body. “Yes!” 

“You’re mine,” he slams one fist into the pillow. “Only mine! No one can have you.”

“Oh fuck!” Your hands shoot to his head to bring Walter down for another kiss. He moans against you. “You’re so tight for me.”

“You’re…huge…and throbbing and I…” You whimper. “You ruined my poor pumpum! This means you must claim me.” 

“Your pumpum?” Walter hides his face in your neck, laughing loudly. “God, I love you, angel. You’re so cute and even with my cock inside of you, you’re babbling cute nonsense.”

“I wanna be yours. Please.”

“You’re already mine.” He throbs inside of you, reading to ruin you even more. “I will split this cunt open some more with my swelling knot. After, you are going to be full of my seed. I’m going to breed you every night and make you round. Everyone will know you’ve got claimed.”

You wrap your legs and arms around Walter’s body. He’s much bigger than you, but you are stronger than you look. Holding tight onto him like a Koala you look him straight in the eyes. “I bet we can ruin your bed.”

“Oh, sweet angel. I’m going to break the fucking bed with you,” he growls and grabs the headboard with one hand. Walter digs his knees into the mattress and smirks down at you. “Hold tight, this is going to be a wild ride.”

You giggle and hold even tighter onto Walter as he starts moving his hips. He laughs when you make squeaking noises with every deep thrust. The alpha keeps his promise. He uses all of his strength to fuck you straight into the mattress.

“My grumpy bear,” you scream and moan all the while rocking your hips. “Yes…fuck…oh…you are going to break my coochie.”

“Did I break you or your poor coochie,” Walter looks up from between your legs. He insisted on kissing your sore pussy better. “Aw, she looks sweet and perfect.”

Walter places a searing kiss on your pussy lips. “Walter…no…you are going to break her for real!” You try to push him off your cunt with your foot. “Please.”

“Hmmm…she’s all mine. But you are right,” he purrs and crawls back on top of you. “I should give her a break. One week of non-stop fucking is too much for my poor omega.”

You smile dopily when he pecks your temple. “I wanna rest now. I’m so tired.”

“Come here, angel,” he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. “Snuggle into your grumpy bear’s chest…”

Now, ...

“Y/N, we got to go back to work,” Walter sighs as you cling to him. “Together.” He adds. “I talked them into giving me an office closer to yours. You can visit me during lunch break, or I’ll visit my omega.”

He drops his eyes to your neck to admire the mark he left. 

“It’s a perfect mark, alpha,” you coo, and pat his cheek. “Everyone will know we belong together. Especially Rachel will know that you are my big grumpy bear from now on.”

“I was your big grumpy bear from the moment I laid eyes on you for the first time…”

Tags in reblog.

[waokevale]

A Clarification to Wormwood's Age (And why he's fully fledged without a shred of doubt)

So, as we all know or have heard some at point, there are still people out there, who think the peculiar lunar plantation is an infant, solely due to the way he speaks, behaves and of conviction that he was literally born yesterday. Which by all means is false.

That's why I'm here to finally dismantle that belief. I'll present you with several compelling arguments of mine based on throughout research I did on his character overall, and if by the end of this post, you'll still hold firm to that same opinion, then I'm afraid that's out of my hands by that point.

If you're willing to stay for the duration of this thesis, and hear me out, I'll be very greatful. And please do listen, so we may not make any more misconceptions as such about him in the future.

I'll be splitting this post into 5 segments, one with additional subcategories.

General Appearance

Behavioral Pattern

Intelligence

Character Interrelations

Canon Information

First of, let's start off with the obvious:

General Appearance

If we're going to interpret his appearance based on 'human qualities', then physically, compared to actual child characters, Wormwood's design is vastly different.

The easiest way for me to prove that, lies in one of the recent animations: (Swine & Dine), where all the (live) children are gathered in one place, alongside Wormwood and Wes.

Here, you can distinctly pick apart the difference between the three preteen characters, Walter, (who's likely supposed to be a teenager on the younger side; around 13-14), and the last two.

The most obvious difference is the jawline. Wormwood, for one, has a massive jaw, easily rivaling that of Maxwell's (while technically, this feature isn't reserved solely for adults, it is moreso common to see an adult with a define jawline, rather than a child.)

This, alongside his torso being usually depicted as an inverted triangle (at least in the official animations), seem to be features added intentionally somewhere post his release, as he looks much more childlike in his animation video, where he's still technically a sapling per se.

Even Several of Wormwood's skins showcase, that he is in no way meant to be seen in a juvenile way.

The best example of that being his Victorian skin.

Look me dead in the eye and tell me that's a child. That is one of the most indisputable old man portrayals, you can get from an anthropomorphic plant character in media. Do not try and argue, how a child is meant to look like that, because neither of the four actual child characters has a skin, which makes them appear that much significantly older than they actually are.

So what reason would Klei even have to make his skin look so apparently elderly, if they saw him as a child?

More examples of his mature skins could be said for the Roseate and Guest of Honor. While they're not outright elderly, as is the former, the general vibe is similar to that of other adult characters' portraits.

Now that we've compared him to human characters and their characteristics, we should take into consideration what he actually is. Let's remember, that at the end of the day, he's partially a plant organism and partially an inorganic crystal from the moon , certainly he ages much differently than us humans, or even most other constant species for that matter.

I'm pretty sure he was also formed with a fully developed body (since he seemingly bloomed shortly after forming, which is a trait reserved primarily for mature plants)

But then again, appearance alone isn't enough to make one truly adult, is it? Thus we're moving on to:

Behavioral pattern

Few things you'll immediately realize about Wormwood is his alleged naivety, playful nature and seldom use of grammatical correctness. Due to this, many immediately assume that he's a child, which is understandable, but not a good enough reason to make such an assumption.

There are many factors involved in building one's disposition, and in Wormwood's case, there's plenty of reasonable causes for his behavor:

As previously stated, he's quite literally a sentient amalgam of vines, brought to life by a jewel from the moon. His origin far disparates that of any known being, especially a human.

His mind develops much differently than that of an average person. This correlates with the point above (since its a big green gem in his chest and not an actual brain). Plus, he likely hadn't had the chance to have a proper education. While he seems to have picked up on a lot of mannerisms from the pigsfolk in Hamlet, I doubt anyone went out of their way to actually school him.

He's feral. The majority of his upbringing, he likely spent surviving in the jungle. In a way, he reminds me a lot of Tarzan (A human, who grew up raised by a troop of gorillas after his parents were killed. He can communicate with the local wildlife just fine, but deeply struggles understanding and relating to the outsiders; other humans, who one day arrived on his land.) That's likely the reason why Wormwood refers to certain creatures with mimicking the sounds they make. Perhaps he can understand them to a degree, or at least is trying to.

Just because he doesn't speak English, doesn't mean he's slow. It is plausible he speaks a different language, while English doesn't come naturally to him. As is the case with Wolfgang, who has similar speech impediment issues and struggles with saying full sentences, but that's quite literally because English isn't his mother tongue. It's been a running gag that Wolfgang is the embodiment of a European man, and whichever country/countries he might've originated from, it's definitely not the UK. As might be the case for Wormwood and whatever constant language he actually thinks in.

He has certain traits akin to people with autism/Asperger's or ADHD (Nonverbal communication, delayed language development, lacking social cues, sensitive nose, short attention span, hyperactive and somewhat impulsive behavior, wild or overexaggerated movement, struggle with fitting in, little sense of awareness etc.) And I'm speaking from experience with this one, he's quite relatable to me, and many of my friends on the spectrum.

With that let's move on to the third segment.

Intelligence

Just how smart is he truly?

Wormwood isn't regarded for his high intellect, that's for sure, but remember, intelligence isn't defined by just the book smarts society imposes on us. Therefore it doesn't always correspond to a person's age and experience.

Wormwood, while definitely not on a level of a Harvard graduate, is extremely intelligent and a quick learner at that.

Let's digest what we generally know about intelligence and what it really means for Wormwood.

With the main question at hand : What differentiates a child mind from an adults'?

While he certainly shares some personality traits with Webber, their mindsets are rather different.

I'd like to present my point with a simple method.(From that one Quora post, believe it or not, it was the most convenient out of all the theories and tests I found) Dividing that, which is known as thought process into five subcategories, of which are:

Cognitive Development

Life Experience

Responsibility and Independence

Emotional Regulation

Social and Moral Development

So let's start with Cognitive Development/Psychology

(Definition : The process of growth and change in intellectual/mental abilities such as thinking, reasoning and understanding. That includes: the ability to interpret information, verbally communicate ideas, appropriately apply words and gestures to given situations, recognize and differentiate various sounds, comprehend your surroundings, use past experience to resolve current or future problems more efficiently, etc. TLDR: How thought process changes with age ; Talking, hearing, reading, remembering, problem-solving, understanding, You get the point. )

By this point, Wormwood's acquired plenty of general knowledge of the world around him and what to expect from it. (In some cases, he seems to know things without realizing it, or simply wishes to not provide more info of what he's already aware of.)

He is capable of understanding various different things, applying appropriate words to them, when given the chance. He often struggles to properly phrase what he means, but you can still get around to grasp it.

And you know what? He's especially good at deducing things not every character can point out. Here are some of the more obvious to least obvious things he's mentioned:

Leaky teacup - "Can't drink from it"

Beaten Beater - "Hmm... Can't use it"

Start tower kit - "Need to plant it on the water"

Compass- "which way?"

N- "North

S- "South"

E- "East"

W- "West"

NE- "Northeast"

SE- "Southeast"

NW- "Northwest

SW- "Southwest"

(The direction one would seem pointless to add but let's remember that there literally are characters in this game who don't know which way is which cough cough Winona cough)

Clippings - "Can sell this hair"

Sapphire Medallion/Tenpiece oinc – "Can buy things now"

(the plant understands capitalism 👍)

Winona's GEM-erator (out of fuel) - "Oh. Needs sparky"

Telelocator Focus (missing gem)- "Needs Purple Shiny"

Telelocator Socket (missing gem)- "Where shiny things?"

The Queen of Moon Quay: "Oh...she thinks Night Ball is friend hair?"

(He might know who They are after all)

Beast of Hunger (1) - "Oh. Not alive"

(This, plus any other quote of his mistaking a statue or an object with distinguishable features as alive, does not make him dull; this world literally has statues coming to life. He simply uses a reasoning he acquired from living in the Constant.)

Rose-Colored Glasses – "Friends show Fixer friend secret things"

(Most character, barring Maxwell, Wendy and Wigfrid don't know about the glasses' true purpose)

Ancient chest - "Put stuff in there!"

(One of 4 characters to have an inclining what to do with it)

Greater Gestalt- "Protect"

Enlightened Crown - "Helps hear them"

(Okay, he definitely knows who They are)

Hound Corpse (reanimating) - "Coming back"

(He seems the least bit of surprised or disturbed by this, compared to everyone else)

Antlion (upset) - "Oh no. Needs gifts"

(interestingly, no one else seems to mention why the Antlion is upset)

Mysterious Energy- "Seed"

(...?)

Distilled knowledge- "Plant this in funny floor"

(he's the only one to have figured out what to actually do with it)

I think what we all can realize from going through his quotes, is that he's in no way as clueless as he initially seems. He has his moments, but so do the rest of the survivors.

Life Experience, Responsibility and Independence

This plant has lived through a lot, but then again so have the rest, a lot of them have faced countless hardships most of us can't even fathom.

From what we already know, the fandom generally believes he is very naive and trusting, which really isn't the case. The thing is, it's not that he's naive, he may not react especially negatively to a creature or thing because he's used to seeing bizarre things, or because he's not afraid of them, unlike the majority of the survivor cast, who are alien to the constant.

Barring the in-game mechanics which force characters to be competent regardless of their experience, we're going to focus on his reactions to mobs and items that might pose actual threat to him or others, or are considered as questionable by him.

Inflatable Vest - "Safe?"

Shadowcraft plinth - "Scary hands helping?"

Fish steak - "Watch for bones"

Candy Apple - "Careful! Don't eat stick! "

Platapine (sleeping)- "don't wake it"

Sentrypede husk - "Sleeping. Shhh"

Sea Stack - "Oops! Watch out!

Great Tree Root - "Oh! Don't bump into friends!"

Worm hole (open) - "Deep. Dark"

(When deerclops is near) - "Something scary coming!"

Pressure plate - Hmmm...Odd rock"

Dread mite (about to explode) - "Look out!"

Shadow Reaper - "No...Wants to hurt friends!"

Depth Worm (lure) - "Hmm... not safe"

Depth Worm (burrowed) - "something hiding"

Meat bulb - "Careful!"

[The fish quotes in DST + the candy Apple are giving me an image of him saying that to the child characters (and definitely Woodie for the latter)]

Independence-wise, the one thing I especially took notice of, is how much the child characters seek guidance from the adults in the group, mentioning them by their formal titles too. That's especially frequent with Webber, Wurt, and Walter, though Wendy rarely does this. On one hand, she claims she considers toys and fun to be behind her, but contradictory, enjoys playing with other children and some of the adults. (Besides we canonically know she's 10-11 years old)

Wormwood isn't known for wanting to seek guidance either. He's sometimes confused about how certain things work and thus will ask about it, but that's understandable given his predicament. (As @thebleedingalien once mentioned, he's like an extraterrestrial experiencing bits and pieces from 2 different worlds at once)

He doesn't really care to play with toys either, (barring a couple of instances, one being Bernie and the others; toys with wheels and Antlion's sand castle. But c'mon, I know some of you grown adults own toy cars/collectibles or build sandcastles when you have the tools, you can't lie to me and say neither of these things is fun. Plus, this post is literally about a video game character, and those, not too long ago, were considered childish.

And besides, adult characters in this game also goof around. There's the whole sand castle building thing in Shipwrecked, which curiously Wormwood doesn't have a strong opinion on.)

But if we were to compare his maturity to other adult characters…

(Wilson) [aside his many, many jokes]: Silk- "It comes from a spider's butt."

(Willow) Portal Exit - "It's fun to watch OTHER people fall on their butts."

(Wolfgang) Coral Nubbin - "Haha. Rock is bald."

(WX-78) Regular Jungle Tree (normal and stump) - "THIS DUMB TREE HAS A DUMB FACE"

(Wickerbottom) Weregoose - "My! What a silly goose!"

(Wigfrid) Plant (ready to be picked) - "Ugh, vegetables. I'm nöt sure what I expected..."

(Woodie) Ghost - "Boo! Ha ha!"

(Winona) Kingly Figure - "It's BUST-ed! Ha!"

(Maxwell) Frazzled Wires - "I might hide those in WX-78's bedroll if I get bored"

(Wortox) [But if we were to pick an example of many] Potato Sack- "Hyuyuyu, wouldn't it be fun to hide inside and give him a scare?"

Yeah, I think he's good.

In this section I don't really have much else to say. He can be cautious, he can be daft. He joggles the braincells alongside the rest of the survivors. But all in all, I would not consider him any more reckless or goofy than either the child or adult characters. Independence wise, while he can absolutely manage just fine on his own, his desire for companionship far outweighs that.

And since we've already talked about maturity, let's move on to:

Emotional Regulation

Despite common belief, Wormwood is not overly emotional. While, yes, he is excitable and easy to impress, he doesn't usually display intense negative emotions, unless something (more often than not wooden) is destroyed, or unless a plant or a creature he likes, suffers. But then again, in those situations, it's logical to display panic, worry and grief. Imagine if your family member or friend suddenly caught on fire and burned before your eyes... Yeah, I bet no one morally adjusted would be the slightest bit of composed in those kinds of situations...

Worse yet, the majority of the Constant is filled with plants, most of whom are his friends, the closest to his kind, beings which display varying amount of sentience...

In actuality, the children, including Wendy, display a shift in emotions much more often than Wormwood does.

Then there's Willow, WX-78, Woodie (birds) and Maxwell, who all have even less emotional stability.

In comparison, I'd say he handles most situations much more maturely and nonchalantly.

Social & Moral Development

Ah yes, the ability to difference right from wrong, morality, patos or however you would call it. Now this one's a little tricky, on one hand, while he may react strongly to a plant's demise, his reaction varies, when it comes to animals and structures. Sometimes, he doesn't really bat an eye, frankly, other times, he displays intense amounts of grief.

I guess that's the definition of selective empathy.

Curiously, he has 2 separate quotes for a pigeon. One from Hamlet, where he seems a lot more distressed when it perishes, and the other, from The Gorge, where he simply states the fact "Oh. Dead."

I'd like to think this was intentional to sort of give him that fading care many of us experience as we grow older.

Here's another example:

[Hamlet] Glowfly (dead) - "(sob)"

[DST, Host of Horrors update] Koalefant Carcass - "Braump...? Not anymore"

Regarding the other survivors; for the most part, he sympathizes with them. Though he doesn't panic much when they die from average constant shenanigans. He knows it's not permanent or consequential.

He does show sympathy, when some of the others' precious belongings get destroyed or damaged.

Winona's Catapult (burnt)- "Fire bad"

Winona's Spotlight (burnt)- "Oh. So sad"

Mighty Gym (burnt)- "Oh... poor muscle man..."

Or in some instances, when a character strongly disapproves of something/is emotionally hurt and he takes notice of that:

Nautipilot - "Robot friend doesn't like Pull Rock"

Mocking Bird - "Mean tweeters, hurt friends' feelings!"

What's interesting, is that, while he calls many creatures his friends, he specifically avoids calling Maxwell that. He even considers Lucy, Willow and Woodie his friends, which is just... wow. May he harbor a grudge against him for what he did to the other survivors? Something more personal? Or is it moreso related to the fact he's fully siding with the shadows... Most likely the former.

Overall I would say he's definitely more empathetic than not, and one doesn't have to care for every living being after all.

Character Interrelations

Regarding what other characters think of how old he is...

It's debatable, keep in mind, the characters don't have to be fully aware, or can misinterpret his age based on his behavior alone.

Most people just refer to him as "plant", unsurprisingly.

There's characters like Winona, who seem to intentionally downplay his age. Winona in her quotes refers to both Wormwood and Wilson (who's officially in his 30s) as 'bucko' (a lively, young fellow. Or in some cases a friend, or another version of buddy). As for her quotes for Bramble trap and Compost wrap, she refers to Wormwood with the terms 'lil plant fella' and 'little guy'. She pretty much just teases people who are younger than her or seem younger. Or she genuinely believes he's actually that young.

There's plenty instances of people calling him a variation of little, small or sapling, which might just be how they see him. Keep in mind, just because a character may think he's on the younger side, does not mean their interpretation is the absolute firm belief you should uphold.

Then, there's Wolfgang and Wurt, who both firmly believe that he's a grown adult.

(Wolfgang) Generic - "Is leafy green man, %s! Hello!"

Firestarter - "Leafy green man did a fire booboo."

Syrup of Ipecaca - "Will leafy green man be sad if Wolfgang doesn't have a taste?"

(Wolfgang only calls him little once in his quotes, because he calls everyone little, children though, he refers to as very tiny + boy/girl/child, so there's that.)

(Wurt) Attacker - "Ow! You mean old weed!"

You might think; why would I care about what a child and a man who's considered to not be so bright think? Well, my previous point about language barriers explains that. Besides, Wurt is a constant-born creature who builds an entire kingdom in her play style, by no means, is she clueless. She also refers to Deerclops and Antlion as 'She', while most of the other characters use he or it.

What's interesting is that Wickerbottom also tends to avoid referring to him with youthful terms, aside the obvious general one she uses for everyone and everything. If anything, she's more patronizing towards Woodie, Wilson, Winona and Wigfrid. (All of whom are in between their late 20s-40s)

Lastly, we have:

Canon Information

While there isn't much information relating to his age, there are hints in the game canon that explain that.

In the game's compendium, where reside the survivors' profile, backstory and description, three of the four kids have 'young' in their introduction. Barring Walter, who instead has 'boy' which is as much of a youthful term. Wormwood's simply stated as 'an amalgam of vines' not a seedling, sapling nor a young/little plant.

From his backstory, we know that:

"A green gem fell from the moon, landing on an ancient stone monument in the middle of overgrown rubble. Over a long period of time, a vine encircled the gem and eventually formed a humanoid figure sitting on the monument. The figure, Wormwood, opened his eyes and looked at his hands. (...)"

(Now this simply explains, that a lot of time has passed as he was forming, unlike what's shown in his animation, where his body instantly forms.)

There's also this part of his bio.

“Though the circumstances of his creation were unusual at best, Wormwood came into this world full of optimism and curiosity, ready to make new friends and see all that life had to offer. But as time wore on and he experienced the cold sting of rejection, he came to learn what the moon above had always known: Wormwood the Lonesome does not belong here.”

It's implied that a while has passed since his birth. Everyone assumes that he was just created recently and that he doesn't know anything, but as I've shown you previously, he's very perceptive when it matters. He has the knowledge and experience, even insight or a hunch. He is able to determine things others can't. Ever since Hamlet happened, his quotes gradually became somewhat more apathetic towards creatures dying, as opposed to the worry and care he previously displayed.

I wouldn't say he's exactly an adult the same way the human characters are, but he's in no way a child as many presume him to be.

(It actually kind of reminds me of how certain Greek gods are created; some are formed as adults, some grow and then eventually stop, and some come to be under very strange and specific circumstances, Aphrodite. But overall, you can't exactly compare their maturing process to that of a human.) Meanwhile, Wormwood is an alien plant with a crystal for a brain

So by the end of this post, are you still inclined to believe he's a child?

Was this completely unnecessary and took far too long to construct? Yes.

Do I regret making this? Nah.

[multific]

Rorschach Being in Love with You - Headcanons

Rorschach x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of violence, smut

Of course, in the beginning, he would deny it

He thinks it's better if you stay far from him

And yet, he keeps coming back for you

He often watches you sleep or do daily tasks

And you pretend you don't know he is watching

It was a simple system

Until one day

It was a late evening, you were let off from work later than usual 

Recipe for disaster and for men to take advantage

You ran, but there was nowhere to hide

But of course, you were saved

And from that day on, he never wants to leave your side

And he only does after making sure you are home, safe

A relationship with Rorschach is difficult

And even with your history, it does have a lot of challenges 

But you love him and he loves you, that should be enough

He would always come home late and sleep through the night

But sometimes, on occasion, he would come home early

Sex with him was a bit of a struggle, especially in the beginning

Given how his mother was, he had to get used to having a woman's touch

But once he got comfortable, nothing was off the table

He would refuse to do anything that would hurt you.

But other than that, he was open especially if you wanted to try something out

Rough, angry sex with him is like magic

It was a way to take out his anger 

And it was in a way that pleased you very much

He would pound you so hard, you would lose feeling in your legs for the next few hours and your legs would be sore for the next few days

But he can be gentle

Those are what you would call, love making

When you prove to one another how much you love each other

He likes to pull on your hair and fuck you from behind

He likes to have your legs around his neck as he eats you out and then fucks you

Scratch his back all you want, he will not complain

You can ride him if you ask nicely

He can be so dominant, you absolutely loved it

He would tell you what to do

And he loves to get blowjobs, again, while pulling on your hair

He would call you all kinds of names, Darling, My Love, Sweetheart

He would never degrade you, don't ask him to call you a slut or a whore

But he can call you Kitten, Princess or My Queen

Just imagine riding him, the bed is creaking as you keep moving, all you can feel is his cock inside you and he calls you "My Queen."

But he makes sure you come first before he does

If you tire him out, he won't leave for the night

But there are nights when he just comes home for a quicky before going back to fight crime

You would call it a simple life

But it was your love

And you are the only person who can call him Walter without him killing you

He is not the type to go or to take you on dates

But it doesn't mean he can't or won't enjoy a night with candlelight and food

Soft is not a word you would use to describe him

But he can be gentle with you

And he wants to be better, do better for you

It was love

Undeniable love

Not even he could do anything about it

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO REPOST STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[4dkellysworld]

Be Not Discouraged

If you were working on a mathematical problem and came to the end of your process only to find you had made an error, you would know at once that you had not applied the principle correctly. You would not even so much as vaguely think the principle to be wrong. You would start over to solve the matter from the premise that the principle was absolutely correct, always has been and always will be, and that the problem could be worked out with ease when the principle was thoroughly understood. When you fail to make a demonstration of Truth, what do you oftentimes say? "Well I have tried and tried and been faithful, and for some reason or other, my problem does not work out." You are so busy with the problem itself that you have little or no time to go to the Principle, which you must abide by, and study it more closely and become more conversant with it. You spend all your time with the unsolved problem, hoping against hope that, after all, you can get through somehow. In mathematics, you simply set aside the wrong results which were obtained through misapplication of the principle and go to work at the beginning again. Or if you are not sure about some line of work, you go to the principle of the thing and refresh yourself, then start out with the positive knowledge that if you apply the principle correctly, the answer follows without question. If this is true in mathematics, it is infinitely more true in metaphysics. If it is true in solving the problems about material existence, it is infinitely true in solving the riddle of human life. Note this one thing: until you are thoroughly convinced that you are working to demonstrate an absolute Principle that is always perfect and infallible, you are likely to whine around over unsolved problems, spending most of the time in failure, instead of going to the fountainhead and increasing your understanding of the principle. Learn this: effect is not to be considered at all; seek only the causative side of existence. If a man offered you a loaf of bread or handful of wheat, your human sense would seize the loaf of bread, but your wisdom would take the seed. Why? Because the loaf of bread, while it would more quickly satisfy human craving, would soon be gone. But the seed is the substance of increase and would grow into unlimited possibilities, for there is no end to the result of one seed if properly planted. In a short time, the result of one seed could make a girdle of flowers or wheat around the entire world. You know all this - it is merely brought to your remembrance with admonition to "get understanding" and stop trying to gain material things. Once you have an understanding for the infinitude of substance, the material effect takes care of itself quite naturally. The harvest is plentiful; you can make it into flour and bread at will, or you can plant it again and increase the substance. Keep your thoughts away from the seeming material existence and let them dwell in the kingdom of Reality. Remember that you are not controlled by the human being side of your nature, but the God-being side which is the Soul, which is the Spirit that is one with the Father within and is a majority because of Its singleness. When a man begins to work on the inner side of his life, truly "the fields are white" with grain. A thousand ways open to him. Opportunity is not an evasive something but a sure thing, coming as often as man is ready to claim it. Form the habit of first acknowledging the principle you are working with as absolutely above change and as infallible. This is your premise, so whenever you fail to work out a problem, do not give a moment's consideration to the failure. The only thing that is wrong is your application of the principle, so go quickly to this principle; seek a better understanding of it and find out what you missed in your application and then work your problem out anew.

The Joy Bringer by Walter C. Lanyon

[simpingforthemm]

Hello angel face 🌷

I fell so head over heels in love with your writing ^-^

I was wondering if I could request a headcanon on dating Isaac from My life with the walter boys?

Sending you lots of love ♡

~ 🧸

dating isaac garcia headcanons

a/n: omg not you making me blush 🤭❤️ thank you so much ❤️❤️ and ofc! I really enjoyed writing this since Isaac is so asfjlskjk 😍 I hope you enjoy!

words: 1.4k

summary: what it would be like to date isaac garcia

• as we all know, Isaac is a total ladies man and he has girls all over town crushing on him

• but he's not searching for anything serious with any of them

• if he were to really get into a relationship, his girlfriend would have to stand out

• he wouldn't want to date someone who blindly falls for him without really knowing him

• he wants that slow-burn enemies to lovers typa shit 😌

• me personally I think Isaac would go for an outsider girl who's kinda mysterious

• also probably someone who has a good sense of style and an interest in fashion

• he wants a girl who doesn't just simply agree with everything he says or does, he wants her to call him out on his bullshit, scold him if he's being an asshole etc!

• bc even tho he loves all the attention he gets from girls and he loves when they swoon over him, that stuff can get boring real quick and he just wants someone to be real with him!

• when you first meet, you don't think much of Isaac

• you are of the opinion that he's arrogant af and extremely entitled

• he's the popular guy and you're just chilling with your small friend group, away from all the high school drama

• it's only when you're paired as lab partners in chemistry and have to sit next to each other that you're forced to talk more (forced proximity y'all 😌😌)

• you bicker for a few weeks, exchanging snarky comments

you: "you really have no idea what the periodic table is? fucking stupid ass himbo"

Isaac: "oh so you're saying I'm good looking? can't even insult me properly huh?"

you: "oh stfu"

• it's only until both of you burst out laughing at some stupid video the teacher showed you in class

• and both of you are looking at each other like ????

• "I didn't know you had a good sense of humor too?"

• then both of you find yourself more often than not laughing at the same things

• you start making jokes to each other in classes, still bickering with each other but the bickering turning more into play fighting??

• also now you don't despise having to work together as lab partners anymore

• sometimes you also purposely sit next to each other in different classes just because it's more fun together

• yet both of you would never admit that

• lots of people from school are surprised about your new acquaintance with Isaac bc what is this popular guy doing with this outsider girl?

• but Isaac doesn't care about what other people think bc you're actually really chill and fun to be around

• one day, Isaac decides he's sick of conversing with his admirers and finds that your bickering with him is far more interesting and also more intellectually stimulating (yes 😂) than just having a bunch of girls stare at him with heart eyes swooning over him and just nodding at everything he's saying

• so at lunch he goes over to your friend group's table (actually just you and your two friend's table 😌) and asks if he can sit with you

• your two friends are like : 🤨🤨🤨him?

• but you're like: nah nah guys he's cool

• so you guys are just chilling together for lunch and he realizes what he's been missing out on!!

• he actually gets along with you and your friends so well bc y'all are also fashion mfs like him and not football ppl like his other friends lmao (tho he mostly hangs out with his cousins)

• after lunch he asks you if you want to hang out after school sometime and chill just the two of you, which surprises you but ofc you say yes

• on your first hangout you go to get matcha 🍵 and talk about art (I could imagine that also being one of Isaac's interests) and fashion, also like your fav brands and stuff and how both of you want to model/design/study fashion etc. in your future

• you also deep talk about his dad a lil and how Isaac mostly grew up at the Walter's house bc his dad is in the army

• your hangouts get more frequent and soon you realize it's more than friendship for both of you and that you actually are like in love with each other

• both of you used to always chat during class and laugh together which you still do but now it's just with a little bit of tension and awkwardness bc you're now crushing on each other

"hahaha...yeah that was um... really funny😅haha"

• and somehow Isaac can't flirt with you like he does with other girls bc with the other girls it was never genuine, he didn't really care about them but with you it's like...

• he really likes you and he doesn't wanna f it up

• I think he would get a lil more touchy tho as he realizes he likes u

• for example: you're out at the cinema watching an indie movie together and he puts an arm around you

• you're like: you've never done that before 🤨🤨🤨

• but then you have to hide your blush bc omg!! 😳 he just put his arm around you

• I feel like Isaac is a scaredy cat so he tells you he loves you over text 😭

• he doesn't even tell you he likes you first, bro just goes all out with the L word

• you've just woken up, it's like 6am on a Sunday and you see a text from Isaac from like an hour ago 💀💀

• "I think I'm in love with you lmao"

• and you immediately call him bc wtf???

• you ask him: "is this one of your jokes?" bc ain't no way are you gonna confess too only to be told it's a prank

• "no, no... it's true"

• "and you decided to tell me this over text?? literally wtf Isaac"

• then you're silent for a while and just say "I can't believe I'm about to say this on the phone but...I feel the same"

• then you meet up that same day and the second you meet you're literally laughing saying: "literally wtf Isaac"

• "sorry I, uh.. didn't know how else to say it..", he says awkwardly, looking away bc he's blushingg

• "well, it's fine because.. I love you too"

• Isaac literally perks up even though you've already said you feel the same, it's different hearing you say it in front of him

• then you guys have your first kiss which is literally life changing for Isaac because so far he's only ever kissed girls like for fun and not because he's fallen for them

• so this is a very new experience for Isaac

• you show up as a couple at school the next day and walk the hallways holding hands 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

• everybody is confused and asks Isaac: "really? her?"

• he answers: "yeah, why? she's cool af?? and I'm literally in love with her??!!"

• so let's talk about your relationship

• you both match fits often and are basically the most stylish couple at school

• you also go thrifting together!

• you guys have a very strong emotional bond and talk about anything and everything literally

• you're his rock and his best friend, he tells you everything

• and by that I mean literally everything

• he also tells you about every prank he plans / has done and he also tells you about the putting bleach in Jackie's shampoo bottle prank

• which you immediately scold him for bc why is he putting that poor girl through this when she's literally still adjusting to the new life in the Walter's house after having to leave her home because her parents died?

• at school you go to Jackie to apologize for Isaac's behavior and offer to help with her hair, which she gladly accepts

• this leads to you and Jackie becoming best friends and to her joining your little friend group with your 2 friends

• (you guys are a better influence on her than Skylar and Grace)

• you also get invited to Walter family events, for example Will's wedding or Thanksgiving

• you can be a bit shy so you always cling to Isaac and Jackie whenever you're there

• But Katherine makes you warm up quickly with her good-hearted nature and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the Walter's home pretty soon

• you get along with Lee pretty well and you just fit in perfectly with the whole bunch

• your parents also love him bc he's literally your prince charming 💕

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: Your laptop needs repair and you're at risk of embarrassing yourself and the company in front of some very big investors.

Warnings: Ransom kinda being an ass. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

A/N2: I know Thanksgiving (USA) is next week but who cares about accurate timing?

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Previous

"What the he--what is 'Friendsgiving'?" Ransom quickly stops himself from saying the minor curse. You've been nothing but friendly towards him and he's been trying his damnedest to return that, including not cursing around you because you don't like that kind of language.

"It's an alternative to Thanksgiving, for those of us who prefer friends to family," you answer. "We get together at someone's place and we each bring a dish to contribute to the meal. You can do the meal like a 'traditional' Thanksgiving, with all the food at the table, but I'm hosting so we're doing it potluck style!"

"Potluck style?"

You think for a few seconds before explaining. You've learned that Ransom definitely didn't have the average upbringing and that it's very much a sore spot for him so you've been working on how to explain things without sounding condescending. It's actually helped you out in your presentations and meetings.

"The basics of a potluck setup is that it's like one of those all-you-can-eat buffets, but with homemade food."

"Okay, I get that," Ransom nods. He's been grateful for your willingness to explain these kinds of things to him but he's learned that, if he doesn't acknowledge that he's understood what you said, you'll just continue to explain. "But I can't cook."

"That's okay," you assure. "Store bought stuff still works. The point of Friendsgiving is to have fun, not nitpick each other's contributions." Ransom huffs a little at that, thinking of all the Thanksgiving meals that devolved into fights about who's personal chef was better. "Seriously, my stuffing is always just Stove Top, from the box. You can just bring some cookies or a pie from the store and that'll work!"

"Thanks," he mumbles. He's fighting putting up his usual cold demeanor to hide the fact that he's ashamed at his lack of cooking skills. A part of him is pretty sure you're genuinely not judging him, but you can't undo decades of emotional abuse after just a couple years. Still, he's been trying and you've been very helpful in that. "So who else will be showing up?"

"If all goes well, Spitfire and a few other friends of mine, whom you haven't met yet." Ransom winces at that. "What? Do you not like them?"

"I...I don't think Spitfire likes me," he confesses. "I...it was stupid of me, I admit. I made fun of her size. She was standing right next to Walter and their difference in size was just really funny to me."

"And so you expressed that in a very rude way?"

"Yes," he grumbles.

"Well then you should send her an email to apologize and make sure to do so in person at Friendsgiving."

"Will she be bringing Walter along?"

"If all goes well," you smile. "So do not bring up the fact that I told you about the dunce cap, please!"

Ransom gives you a smug grin. "We'll see, Bubbles."

"Nooooo! Pretty please, Ransom?" You give him your best playful pout, knowing he can't keep a straight face every time you use it.

Sure enough, he laughs. "Okay, okay. I'll keep the secret. That's what friends do, right?"

"Thank you! Can I hug you?"

He winces, "I...I'm still not ready for that."

"That's okay," you're quick to reassure. "Just tell me when you are so I can give you a giant koala hug!"

He smiles, "thanks."

To say Ransom was overwhelmed would be an understatement. It's not even that there were a lot of people at the Friendsgiving (they were greatly outnumbered by the fall themed plushies you'd used to decorate). It's just...they were all having a good time. No one had started arguing. No one was threatening to call the lawyers. Everyone was having a good time. Ransom was very much out of his element here.

His one comfort, if you can call it that, was the biscoff cookies on the dessert table. He'd noticed no one else was really eating them so he took that as an okay to indulge as he needed them. Yes, they were a reminder of painful family gatherings, but at least it had some familiarity for him. Something to help him keep his metaphorical feet on the ground since he couldn't get his bearing among these friends of yours.

Even Spitfire and Walter were the most cordial he's ever seen them. It felt like he was in an alternative reality. Worse than that, it was a reality he'd known was possible and wanted for himself, but he felt so out of place in it. It hurt because what if he couldn't actually handle the reality he'd wanted? Did he make a mistake getting away from his family? His only real distraction was the biscoff cookies.

There were a few times Ransom had to excuse himself to step outside for some air. The brisk weather always helped him feel better. The cold winds always felt like a smack to the face that helped him regain his senses. He really needed that right now.

After the second time you excuse yourself and follow him outside. "Ransom?" you get his attention. "Are you okay?"

He's startled out of his deep breathing and he quickly shakes his head. "I'm okay. I'm okay. This is just different than I'm used to."

"If it's too much, if you need to leave, I'll understand."

"Did I say I wanted to leave?!" he snaps, making you flinch. He immediately drops his face, angry with himself for his outburst. You're just trying to help and he can't stop being an asshole.

"You're not the only one who had a bad family, you know." Ransom doesn't look up. "I went no contact with my own family. I'm guessing for very different reasons than you did. At least, I hope it was different reasons. You know I wasn't even allowed to attend public school because my parents knew it was a brainwashing government institution designed to get you to worship Satan?" Ransom huffs.

"Anyways," you continue. "I know from experience it can take time, and work, to really shake what we're trying to escape from. And it can be very overwhelming for a long time. So just...just know that if you need to leave you can. I don't want you to think you have to stay. I want to confirm that you can choose to stay or go."

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"Also, let me know before you head out so you can take the rest of the biscoff cookies with you." He raises his head in surprise. "I got them because they were on sale, didn't know if anyone would actually be interested in them. You've eaten pretty much the entire box by yourself! Not a judgment, by the way. But now I know your favorite cookies!"

Ransom gives you a soft smile. "I'm not sure what I need to do right now. But I'm glad to know I've got options. Thank you."

"Any time," you reassure him.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

@thiquefunlover63

[ghosttotheparty]

eddie knows that steve’s house isn’t a home. that he doesn't really actually feel comfortable there, or safe. it makes eddie sad every time he's over, along with the lack of photos and art and personality that could make it a home. he still stays over fairly often, sleeps in steve's bed, makes coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, lounges on the sofa.

steve’s parents come back without warning one day and find eddie and steve kissing in the kitchen.

nothing scandalous or inappropriate or anything like that. they’re both smiling, leaning over their coffee cups to peck each other's lips, (and eddie thinks the harringtons have the worst timing in all of human existence, because this is the first time they’ve kissed today), but catherine claps her hand over her mouth like they walked in on them fucking on the dining table. steve barely reacts when they walk in. he just sips his coffee slowly.

walter tells him to leave. his voice is quiet and lethally calm, and steve does as he says. eddie follows.

steve moves in with eddie that day, into the apartment the government gave them after the trailer was destroyed. it’s small, only slightly bigger than the trailer was, with two bedrooms. steve stays overnight enough that he practically already lives there, but now eddie makes space in his drawers for steve’s clothes. it doesn’t take long for their clothes to combine.

steve is quiet for a while after moving in. he doesn’t say much, doesn’t really look into eddie’s or wayne’s eyes.

wayne comes close and hugs him when he starts to cry, murmuring that he’s home now, that everything was gonna be okay. steve falls asleep in his arms when he finally stops crying.

steve doesn’t say it, but eddie knows he feels like a burden. one more stomach to feed, one more load of laundry. even with the hush money, times are tough. especially when no one will hire eddie.

so eddie reminds him as often as he can that he’s home. that nothing he and wayne do for him are favours, or just them being nice. that they love him and want him safe and cared for. he wakes him up by pressing kisses across his face, and he watches sports games with him (and asks questions so he can actually follow along), and he remembers how he takes his coffee, and he tells him every chance he can that he loves him. even silently, squeezing his hand under tables in public.

he knows steve doesn’t really believe him. or at least, that it’s hard for steve to believe him. it wouldn’t be easy, not when his own parents never said the words, when they told him without a second thought to leave the house he grew up in. he knows that steve doesn’t quite feel at home in the apartment, that he feels like he doesn’t belong there.

even though eddie and wayne do everything they can to make him feel safe, to make him feel at home. wayne comes home one day with printed photographs that he got after talking to joyce. photos of steve with his friends, with eddie and robin and nancy and jonathan, with the kids. photos jonathan took of them during campaigns, during movie nights and parties at the harrington house. the photos go up on the walls in eddie and steve’s room.

(except one. it’s a photo of eddie and steve on the sofa in the wheeler basement, steve laying on eddie’s chest, looking up into his eyes, playing with the guitar pick on his chest, and eddie is smiling softly at him, his arm around his neck, his fingers in his hair. eddie doesn’t even remember what they were talking about, just that he felt warm and cosy and safe. the photo is on the fridge. it’s wayne’s favourite.)

it takes a while for steve to get comfortable at the apartment.

eddie gets to watch it happen. at first, steve sits stiffly on the sofa unless he’s with eddie. (he likes to lean into him.) but after a while he starts to pull his legs up onto the sofa as he watches games with wayne or movies with eddie, sitting cross-legged or pulling his knees to his chest. for a while he needs eddie’s help remembering where the dishes go in the kitchen, which cups go in which cabinet, which order wayne’s mugs go in on the shelves. but he eventually stops asking.

one day eddie comes home from band practice to find steve doing the dishes. he’s wearing one of wayne’s flannels.

he wears eddie’s clothes often enough. usually his t-shirts and sweaters when they haven’t done the laundry, but he’s never worn anything of wayne’s.

‘hey, baby.’

eddie is stuck in the doorway, the strap of his bag still between his fingers, and steve turns to look over his shoulder at him.

‘eds?’

‘hi,’ eddie says weakly, looking at him. the flannel is rolled up to his elbows, and when steve turns to look at him in concern, eddie sees that the flannel is hanging open to reveal one of eddie’s motörhead shirts.

‘hey,’ steve says, quickly shutting off the water and drying his hands before he comes over, holding eddie’s face as eddie’s eyes fill with tears. ‘did something happen? what’s wrong?’

‘no,’ eddie chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes and dropping his bag to the floor. steve wipes the tears away tenderly, kissing his lips softly. ‘i’m fine, stevie.’

‘why are you crying?’

‘’m just…’ he takes a sharp breath, reaching up to hold steve’s waist, pushing under the flannel and holding him tightly. ‘kinda like… overwhelmed? with how much i love you? and how— how happy i am?’

steve’s face softens.

‘baby,’ he breathes. eddie’s lip quivers. he slides his hands to grip the lapels of the flannel before he reaches to trace the scars around his neck. ‘i love you too.’

eddie pulls him into a hug, holding him tightly as he waits for his tears to stop. steve waits with him, playing with the ends of his curls, running a hand up and down his back. eddie is sniffling when he finally stops crying, and steve holds his face in his hands, wiping his cheeks and kissing him softly, over and over, until eddie is giggling, smelling the dish soap on his hands.

but eddie just starts crying again when steve says casually and easily and lightly, ‘do you know what time wayne is coming home?’

[deandoesthingstome]

Medieval Fantasy

Pairing: Witcher!Geralt x Reader

Summary: The offerings at this hotel, I swear.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving, 69), p in v (cowgirl, missionary), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: I suppose, strictly speaking we're not fucking the monster, but he's still a treat, so enjoy!

A/N 2: (Edited) I do owe @augustsprincess a little thank your for an idea; I played it out during the group chat here, but I probably wouldn't have included it at all if not for you, so *smooches*

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

Mike ordered a pizza from room service for the last hour of your reservation with him once he flipped the time switch. You sat cross-legged on the couch with him, munching happily while he narrated the ridiculousness of the rest of the scenes to your scary movie, making you giggle where you’d normally be hiding behind a blanket. You’d remember this night fondly for a long time. Mike’s easy going way had put you completely at ease once he noticed you were a little hung up on Walt.

He unfortunately didn’t know anything about how to get a hold of your missing object of desire.

You set the scene for the story pretty much as it was, but added more spook and gore, opting to split up the experience into two nights. One with live Mike, just barely slipping out the window before the parents came home from their Halloween night costume parties, only to be killed by the tow truck driver who showed up when his car, parked around the corner from the house, wouldn’t start. He was hung on the hook that should have hoisted his beater onto the truck. And one a few weeks later, when the heavy drag of the chains and hook across the attic floor led the heroine to investigate, only to be taken swiftly and with no mercy by her incorporeal boyfriend. Not rough, just urgent, insistent, longing for some other connection that would allow him to leave the vicinity of his undoing. If he could have taken her outside on the sidewalk without prying neighbor eyes, he probably would have.

You put the notice up after you posted. The next would be your last regular monster fucking post. You were taking a hiatus to work on your first novel.

sendmeanangel: and then Walter burst through the window, all wolfed out darkgothnightengale: while they were both fucking you??? sendmeanangel: yeah, and i can only think my subconscious was trying to not kill me when it chose August and Mike for that experience. I can’t imagine having anything else inside me while getting fucked by the Bull MNstrluvr: i would kill for a dream like that darkgothnightengale: well, did he take you away? sendmeanangel: i woke up!!! darkgothnightengale: and still no luck finding him? sendmeanangel: no. i found a guy who seemed like him, but he’s in Minnesota. Or was. It’s like his online presence is either non-existent or ended abruptly at least ten years ago MNstrluvr: another ghost lol! sendmeanangel: very funny. Mike was a lot of fun anyway. I needed that darkgothnightengale: and you’re still going back? sendmeanangel: i’ve never heard of a witcher. He just showed up on the site the other week and i bet he’s softer than he looks. I booked him at the same time i booked Mike, so it’s already scheduled and i could do with one more amazing adventure before i give it all up darkgothnightengale: i still don’t understand why. If you don’t have walter, what’s the harm? sendmeanangel: there’s no harm. Obviously i’m free to do what i want. But i think about him all the time. And i just think maybe it’s time for a break MNstrluvr: when you find him you should see if he’s up for booking a room with you so you can recreate that dream sendmeanangel: oh my goddddd! 

“We certainly hope you haven’t been displeased with your experiences here,” the desk clerk asked gently.

“What? No! Everything’s been wonderful. Why do you ask?” you inquired, at a loss for what may have precipitated the comment.

“We noticed you hadn’t made another future booking yet.”

“Oh, that,” you stammered. ”I just…no, everything’s fine.” You fingered the edges of the card stock bearing the elevator code to get you to L2 and tightened your grip on your bag reflexively. Just a trick you used to bring you back to steady. 

“Well, please. If there’s anything at all we can do for you…” You smiled and cast your eyes down so as not to betray your true feelings, but glanced up quickly to try to judge the meaning behind the next statement made with a hint of weightiness. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you offered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The elevator opened to a small wooden hut, a place for your belongings and coat, a small wash basin filled with still steaming water and fragrant scents set on a wooden stand. You disrobed, dipped a washcloth in the water, and bathed yourself with the enchanting smells, then grabbed a linen towel to dry off before climbing into the outfit you’d selected for the fantasy. You slipped the silver dagger into the holster you’d strapped to your thigh and dropped your heavy skirt down over it before wrapping the cloak around your shoulders.

You had no idea what you were walking out into, only that if things got too hairy, as they absolutely could, he’d be there to save you. There to comfort you. 

You stepped out onto a wooded path leading to a trail along a marshy bog, mostly full moon shining in the sky above you. You were never going to get over the mechanics of this hotel that made it seem like you were in at least five distinctly different places, some of which were outside, while still housed in the same building. But you were solidly on the side of possibility. Monsters were real. Magic was real. This hotel was real.

You carried a small basket of goods, as if headed to a market or maybe home from one. The path ahead of you seemed less than ideal and you began to wonder if you’d made a wrong turn. The churning and bubbling of the bog was lost on you as you looked around for another path that might lead to more solid ground, grateful for the light of the moon since a flashlight app was absolutely not happening, as your phone was left back in the hut.

Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded from the liquid and a large figure began to emerge, long twig-like legs reaching into the space above it as if searching for something. You dropped your basket and ran as soon as it became obvious the thing it was searching for was you. A moment’s respite allowed you to reach under your skirt and grab the dagger before you resumed fleeing away from the monster but suddenly a creepy crawly leg swept around you and it was all you could do to jump out of the way.

You stumbled when you hit the ground, but landed on your back, which meant you could stab up at whatever was coming at you and you did. The blade wasn’t long enough to do full damage, but some gore dripped down your arm as you registered a little casualty point and you pulled back and stabbed again as quick as you could, completely unconcerned with whatever came oozing out. It had to be better than being dead, you thought.

You heard another roar and the distinct slice of a finely crafted blade through the air and the legs that had you trapped were suddenly no longer attached to the larger body that was stalking you. It gave you time to move, scramble out of the way and find a spot to regroup. From behind the boulder you saw him. Leather clad, silver hair flowing, steel blade drawn and hacking through more limbs. As he spun for another attack, you glimpsed his dark eyes and shimmery, pale skin.

It was maybe not the time, but his ass looked great too. 

“Little help,” the strained call came, as he flipped the beast over, tackling what you took to be the lower extremities. A smooth patch on the chest seemed like it was made for stabbing so you climbed onto the rock and jumped, landing right on top of the beast with your tiny blade finding a home in the furry goo. 

One final, ear-splitting shriek and the deed was done. Your compadre stood and held out a hand to help you up and off the steadily shrinking body of the buggy creature you’d just slayed. You felt your feet touch solid ground as you looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before you.

“Alright?” he asked. “I think you got ‘im, but we should head out in case there are more. I don’t think tonight is the right time for this. We’ll come back tomorrow and finish the job.”

“What job?”

“Okay, sure. This wasn’t why you were walking alone late at night in a Krak infested bog? Are you telling me you weren’t hired to clear the area?”

“No?” you answered, unsure what the words coming out of his mouth meant. Was this what a witcher did?

“Were you hired for anything?”

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” You had to find a way to talk to this man coherently. You remembered your basket. “I was just walking back to town from a market. I think I got a little lost.”

“I think you got a lot lost. Can I help you find your way back? I’m Geralt.” His black eyes were  ringed with dark circles, but in the moonlight, those looked like they were fading slowly.

You offered your name and a hand, which he shook, and you felt a line of heat rush straight through your arm, down your chest, and into your core. You gasped as the last of the shadows over his face and eyes dissipated, leaving you staring into amber eyes full of flame. The memory of lights piercing the shadows the other night flooded your brain. What if that wasn’t Walter, as you suspected? But no; the howling.

Geralt helped you locate your discarded basket, into which you stuffed your goo-covered corset and cape, eager to be free from the stench and hoping desperately that dry cleaning would do the trick when you were home. You mounted his horse, Roach, with his assistance and he led you into town. He made a beeline straight for an inn, dropping you off at the entrance with instructions to ask about lodging while he found boarding for his horse for the night.

“Oi! You’re late!” an oversized brute behind the bar exclaimed in your direction as you entered the tavern and you froze, unsure what part of the fantasy this could be. “Have ya lost control of yer legs suddenly? Bring the goods here. Now!”

You looked down at the basket with a realization that was confirmed by another shout.

“Yes. That. The basket. Now!”

You were about to begin the trek across the wooden floor to hand off your basket to the foul looking man, when a pair of comforting hands came to rest on your upper arms, holding you firmly in place.

“I think you have the wrong merchant. This basket of goods is mine,” Geralt’s deep and soothing voice growled. “And we require rooms for the night.”

Rooms? Was this not happening?

“Almost full tonight, Witcher. Only one room left.” You stifled a snort at the cliche of it all.

“We’ll take it. And I’d venture to say you’ll want to provide a meal and round on the house. At least one of your swamp monsters is already dead thanks to this one.” Geralt stepped you into the tavern and over to the bar where a key dangled from the innkeeper's hand.

“She took out a Krak?”

“Practically single-handedly.” There was something like pride in Geralt’s voice, and maybe a little admiration, though you definitely didn't handle that on your own. Still, you grabbed the key with a smirk and turned to find an empty table. Geralt followed once he’d grabbed two tankards of ale, and two plates of stew with bread were set down in front of you after a few moments of awkward silence, during which you took in the clientele. How was the hotel paying all these extras?

“Wolf!” someone called from the entrance and for a moment you thought they’d seen Walter. You looked around, but found nothing other than another sizable man clad in leather and steel making his way to your table.

“Lambert,” Geralt acknowledged him, and introduced you. “What brings you tonight?”

“Just finished up a town over and heard of another job. Looks like you’ve already taken it on. Finished so soon?”

“Hardly started. First kill’s hers anyhow.” Geralt nodded with what appeared to be reverence in your direction.

“Beginner’s luck,” you demurred. “I don’t think a small dagger is going to be of much use with the rest of whatever those were.”

“Looks like I’ll be headed out at first light alone then, to complete the task,” Geralt mumbled, with a comforting look at you before turning attention back to Lambert.  “I’d welcome your assistance with this one.”

A barmaid approached to set another tankard of ale in front of your new red-headed table mate and you didn’t miss the way her hand traced over his shoulder and her eyes met his as she walked back toward the counter to continue serving other customers.

“It’s a good thing you’ve found your bed for the night, since we’ve just taken the last one,” Geralt grumbled with a hint of tease. 

“Unless you need my assistance with anything else?” Lambert’s tone was clear and they both turned their gazes slowly toward you. 

It was a choice. You hadn’t asked for this, but you were being offered an option. Heat filled your cheeks and you cast your eyes down with a sudden shyness. Though two entirely different men, your dream from the other night was somehow presented to you on a platter, and yet…

“I don’t think I’m anything Geralt can’t handle on his own,” you replied, aware this was your call and no one else's.

With the sleeping arrangements out of the way, you spent the next hour or so enjoying stories of training and fighting. If your ears didn’t deceive you, several of their completed jobs seemed to include gratitude delivered by way of sexual favors, sometimes alone, sometimes together. They were cheeky and sly with the language, but the innuendos were there and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about it. 

You waived off another round of ale and professed you’d much rather find a tub of warm water to sink into for a bit. Geralt agreed and you both said your goodnights to Lambert.

Settled into the room, you were surprised to find there really was a wooden tub full of tepid water. A large cauldron hung over a roaring fire and you watched as Geralt used a rudimentary crane-like contraption to hoist the pot over the tub and dump its boiling contents into the water below.

“It’ll warm the water for a bit, so you should take advantage now, if you were serious.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s room for both of us,” you mentioned with a little sadness.

“We can take turns, just don’t stay in too long,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. “Do you need any help with your garments?”

With your corset already removed, all that remained was to unlace the heavy woolen skirt and lift the flowing linen gown underneath it over your head. Geralt was a huge help nevertheless and your body shivered as you imagined his fingers tracing every inch of you, not just your waist or the lucky bits of leg that received his touch as he bent to grab the hem of your dress.

He held your hand as you stepped into the tub and sat down, knees bent against your chest. How would he ever manage to fit himself in here? you thought. While you swirled the water around you, you watched as he turned away to unbuckle his leathers and disrobe as well. You were right about his ass. 

You smiled a little to yourself at how comfortable getting naked with him was and then you smiled wider when he turned to face you once again, approaching you in all his glory and settling down onto a stool next to the tub with a washcloth in his hand.

Geralt offered to help you wash off, then dunked his hand into the water when you accepted. He ran the soft rag along your back, down your arms, across your chest. He took a few moments to run the soaked cloth along his body as well when the water began to cool much faster than you’d hoped, leaving no opportunity for him to sit in the tub himself. When he “dropped” the rag while dipping it back in the water for another pass, he didn’t hesitate to reach deeper into the tub, fingers searching the bottom for the cloth but finding your bottom instead. He leaned forward to complete the kiss you had asked for with a lick of your lips and smiled into your gasp when his fingers made their way between your legs.

“You know,” he started after pulling away from your hungry mouth, “I do feel as if I owe you a bit of gratitude myself.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Geralt?” you gently taunted with a fake bit of naivete.

“You were the hero tonight. You deserve a reward.” He stood from the stool, exposing his hardening length, and helped you to stand.

“And will you be my reward?” you purred, clasping your arms around his neck as he lifted you out of the tub.

“Gladly,” he replied, slipping his hands eagerly down your side body and around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your mouth again with a searing kiss as he walked toward the bed and deposited you on your back, legs splayed wide and waiting for him.

“Maybe you could finish what you started.”

He dove to the bed next to you and cupped your cunt with a rather large hand.

“This is just the beginning,” he promised as he bent two fingers and slipped them inside. He watched your face with intent as he pumped his fingers in and out, teasing more and more slick from deep inside you. He kissed you when he added a third finger, swallowing the moan that ripped from your throat. 

You couldn’t control your hips if you wanted to, bucking up into his hand, trying to pull him in deeper, trying to find the grind that would let you explode. His lips on your jawline, his tongue on your neck, kisses on your collarbone before he nuzzled into you and whispered how good you fucking smelled from here already. All these words of praise and touches of desire sent you right over the edge with an urgent need to crawl back up and do it again.

He must have been expecting you to take some time to recover because he was off guard when you pushed at his shoulder and sent him to his back so you could sit up and swing your legs over his. Settled on his thighs with an eye toward his very large erection, you smiled and made clear your intentions.

“I want you, Geralt. All of you.”

“However you’d like,” he grinned back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other reaching to stroke himself. 

“Fuuuuuuuhhhck,” you moaned, watching how he handled himself, sure saliva was probably dripping from the side of your mouth. “Kinda like that.”

You scooted back down his legs and leaned forward, eager to let him feed you the cock he was keeping hard for you. As with every other host, it was going to be impossible to take him all the way, but you were going to give your best effort on the parts you could reach. His hand motion shortened as your mouth took over servicing the head and a few inches of length. You let your tongue swirl around the tip and dripped saliva from your mouth to give both of you something to slide over. 

Your pussy was still yearning for touch and since you didn’t need your own hands for the blowjob, you let one travel down your body and between your legs to trace along your folds. You rubbed two fingers over your sensitive clit, curling to dip them into your warm, wet opening a few times before returning to focus attention at the nub. 

“I can help with that, if you’d like,” Geralt grunted breathlessly, the arm behind his neck reaching now for your body, prodding you to turn. While you continued to lave over Geralt’s prodigious member, you crawled around to find your knees on either side of his head and when you felt his hand smooth over your ass, you didn’t resist the pull.  

You moaned around the cock in your throat while Geralt wrapped his lips around your pussy and licked his way into your slit. Eventually, he let go of his dick and wrapped both hands around your thighs, holding you close against his face and lapping in tandem with the bob of your head.

On more than one occasion you found you could not concentrate effectively on the head you were giving, since the head you were receiving was so mind blowing. You found you had to lift your mouth off his cock and beg for more, scream for him to make you come. When he did, you were able to return to pleasuring him, since he didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to move you away. Instead, it was as if he were playing a game called ‘how many times can you come on this tongue.’

It became abundantly clear that you were never going to be able to return the favor. Geralt was not interested in coming down your throat, so when you felt like you couldn’t handle one more tender lick, one more urgent suckle, one more flick of the tip of his tongue on your sensitive pearl, you begged off. Pleaded for mercy.

“I’m not done,” he called from the other end of the bed. “I still owe you my gratitude.”

You peeled yourself reluctantly away from his cock and eased yourself around again, to lay alongside him, chest heaving and thighs shaking.

“I can’t fathom how one Krak deserves more than you’ve already given, but I’ll gladly take it, if only you’ll let me rest a moment.” You draped an arm over his chest and drifted your fingers through the dusting of hair you found. 

“Perhaps some water?” he offered, reaching for a cup and the pitcher by the bedside. You shared the cool liquid, quenching one thirst while another still burned hot and needy. 

“How long can you last? Surely I’m not that bad at oral.”

His laugh was so bright, it was as if the room was suddenly aglow.

“You are excellent at that. I just have a lot of practice not letting go until I’m sure my partner has reached the absolute peak. It’s a point of pride.”

He wasn’t arrogant about it, just matter of fact. He was here to serve. 

“What if we simply waited until you were ready again? Surely that wouldn’t take forever.” You trailed your fingers down his chest, through the patch of hair at his abdomen, and onto his still rock hard length. Feeling how firm he was, letting your hand trace the veins, your thumb nudging the helmet of the head, you couldn’t help but be hungry for him again.

You found yourself straddling his thighs once more, eyeing his cock, begging for him to fuck you now.

“Do they have condoms in this time, wherever we are?” If an ancient Greek labyrinth had condoms, surely this medieval inn had them, too. You were still in the hotel after all. He chuckled and nodded toward the nightstand, where you found a plain wooden box that revealed what you were after when opened.

Geralt made to take the packet from you, but you resisted. “Allow me, please.”

You tore open the package and worked the rubber onto the tip, then rolled the sides down and checked the fit. You let him make a final adjustment, but when he leaned up as if to roll you over, you protested.

“I’m good right here,” you purred, grabbing ahold of his sheathed cock and lifting up to position yourself right above him. You set him at your entrance, still dripping from your several orgasms, and lowered yourself good and slow. You were getting used to the size of these men, but that didn’t mean the start didn’t require some care.

Your eyes closed almost involuntarily once you’d taken him to the hilt and you sat motionless for a moment, feeling your core loosen around him. You began a steady pulse, up and down, as you opened your eyes to see him staring up at you with desire. He rested his hands on your hips, neither speeding you up nor slowing you down, just feeling the motion, feeling you. 

After a few more strokes, you grabbed his hands and slid them up your body, pressing the palms of his hands against your breasts and tossing your head back at the sensation. He was more than willing to continue cupping and squeezing without your guidance which allowed you to set your hands on his thighs behind you, providing even more leverage for your rise and fall. Now you sped up. 

“Fuck, Geralt, this feels so good,” you cried out.

“I can make it better,” he countered, slipping his hands around your ribs and pulling you forward, chest to chest as he captured your lips once more. With his hands firmly holding your head in place, he began to buck up into you and when it seemed like it was going to be to much, he let his hands drift down your back and onto your hips again, to hold you place while he set a punishing pace, thrusting ever harder and deeper into your pulsing core until he finally exploded with a roar. It wasn’t your peak, but you weren’t complaining in the least. He’d fucked you through several tiny orgasms, each ebbing and flowing with ease. If there was nothing more, no additional gratitude the rest of the night, you’d be just fine.

But he was having none of it. He lifted you off and laid you to the side, urging you back against the head of the bed and lifting the covers for you to climb under. Once you were comfy, he left the bed to deal with the condom removal, grabbing an apple and knife from his bag on the way back. You sat and conversed while he fed you thin slices of sweet fruit, taking his own bites after every third for you.

Geralt was easy to talk to. Not overly wordy, but happy to chat nonetheless. Although you wanted to ask questions about the hotel, you knew it would be wildly inappropriate so you stuck with the script for the scene. What would it take to clear the rest of the Kraks? How dangerous would it have been had he gone alone? What’s the most danger he’d ever gotten into? The most fun? How often, exactly, had he and Lambert been thanked simultaneously?

That question was designed to reignite the passion in the room. You weren’t disappointed. The mere telling of the experiences got him rock hard again and it was with delight that you let him take the lead the rest of the evening. Once he’d donned another condom after feasting on your pussy one more time, he took you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist so he could grab at them when he needed to open you wider or lift your leg over his shoulder to find that one final deep spot that had you panting his name and coming hard around him. He took one more lingering kiss, then pulled out and tidied up, joining you back under the covers for a final round of pillow talk before turning in for the night.

Somehow, with the knowledge that the physical part of the evening was over, the air in the room changed and the conversation did as well. He wasn’t overly concerned with keeping the topics to the scene, but you found yourself second guessing if you should ask anything at all about Walter. It seemed rude, even though Mike had been completely open about it. This stay wasn’t that one. 

You’d booked an overnight and Geralt hadn’t needed to bend time for you, if that was even something he could do, so you had no direct in with a question about his possible gifts. You could maybe ask why Lambert had called him Wolf, since they were both from the same school. But in the end it was Geralt who brought up Walter, without realizing what he was doing.

“I lucked into this spot. The hotel had just lost one of their best hosts, and the guy was booked solid weeks out. They’re still trying to find another werewolf to take his room, but in the meantime they contacted me and set up this level.”

“How did they find out about you?” you asked, trying to keep your heart rate from spiking at the hint of information about Walter.

“The way they find out about any of us, I suppose. Word of mouth.”

“Do you know what happened to him? The guy before you?” You didn’t think you were holding your breath, but Geralt’s answer told you otherwise.

“Not a clue. I try not to get caught up in the gossip. Hey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to faint. That’s a real skill since you’re already laying down.”

You tried to take a breath and laugh it off at the same time, asking your next question with a feigned indifference. “There’s gossip in this hotel?”

Geralt’s laugh was infectious. “There’s gossip at every hotel, but this one's something else. I think the vampire is the ring leader. I try to stay away from it. Keep my head down. Take care of my guests. And I shouldn't have even said that. Please forgive me.”

It was obvious he wasn't going to give up much more information, if he even knew anything specific to begin with. You tried to stifle a yawn, but Geralt noticed and stood up to blow out the candles illuminating the room, leaving one small oil lamp burning. When he returned to bed, you curled up into his warmth. You felt a little bad about imagining it was Walt you were snuggled next to, but it didn’t stop you from drifting asleep with a smile on your face.

You opened your messaging app as you were about to step out of the cafe where you’d gone for a latte the next morning after dropping your bag at home.

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning 

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79

if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

[nickfowlerrr]

good for you

ronearoundblindly asked: Can you write August and 49. Out of necessity?!

GIF by callsign-fangirl

pairing: mainly - august walker x curvy!reader

warnings: 21+ ONLY. this is...smut. and kink. and smut smut smut. no d/s dynamics but some power play aspects. august gets called sir. dirty talk. some degradation. reader and august are undercover. please note i am leaving stuff out! warnings are not exhaustive, in part because i don't know how to tag them and also i know i'm forgetting stuff lol.

other characters mentioned, even just briefly: nick fowler, bucky barnes, steve rogers, lloyd hansen, walter marshall, god the bounty hunter.

words: about 4.4k

notes: this prompt completely got away from me. i think i barely touched it for like a second. i really don't know what happened lol. but thank you very much for submitting an ask, i appreciate it! <3

truthfully i don’t even know if this all makes sense but it did in my head and it really got me going so i’m sharing it with you all lol. thank you in advance to anyone who reads this madness, i hope you, at the very least, find it somewhat enjoyable. please let me know your thoughts!

“Your friend is staring,” you speak quietly as you glance over to the target idling by the entrance of the hallway. He was on his way out when he noticed August slip down the corridor, his suspicions rising instantly.

You weren’t supposed to be seen, you weren’t supposed to be there at all, but since Mr. Paranoid forced August to ditch the very expensive phone you’d made and chipped just for him, you needed to get something on him again to be able to maintain communication, to keep track of him, and though you wouldn’t say so aloud, to ensure his safety in any way you could.

You’d snuck into the event dressed as part of the waitstaff, a form fitting short black dress, nylons and two inch black heels, all of which you’d rolled your eyes at. What happened to the standard white dress shirts and black slacks?

As you walked around holding a tray of champagne, offering drinks to guests, you finally spotted him. He was sat on the armrest of the couch in the middle of the room, his target chatting with another man you’d never seen before just to the side of him.

You made your way over, taking your time passing by the two men near him, handing them the flutes of champagne as you finally felt August’s gaze on you.

You stepped closer to him as he eyed you up and down before he raised a brow at you.

You could feel the attention of his target on you both as you stood before him.

“Champagne, sir?” you asked inconspicuously.

“Is that all that’s on the table tonight?” he responded as he took a glass, his dark gaze heating you as you saw the corner of his lips twitch in a smirk.

You had to stop yourself from reacting how you wanted to and instead forced a polite but sultry smile for your onlooker.

As you started to walk away, you felt a tug on the skirt of your dress and the warmth of August’s fingers brushing against your thigh through your nylons as you moved forward. That was unexpected... You wanted to hate the feeling, more so, you should have hated the feeling. Or at least not let it effect you so much. This was a job, after all. You needed to focus and do what you were there to do.

You glanced back over your shoulder and the twinkle in his eyes as he watched you walk away had you forcing yourself to stomp down the butterflies that threatened to take flight in your stomach. You also saw the scrutinizing eyes of his target set on him as he watched you.

August’s lips moved but you couldn’t tell what it was he said as you continued to play the part and offered drinks to other guests. All you saw was the scoff he earned from the man beside him before they both looked over at you for a second longer.

You ignored them and continued on around the room. August knew you were here now, and he knew his target better than you did, so it was up to him to figure out how he’d be able to speak with you without raising any flags.

But the night grew on and you grew more and more annoyed. You were straight up catering at this point, working a whole shift. You should be getting paid for this.

The only interaction you had with August was when you’d walk by with a new tray. His mark never strayed far from him so you didn’t say much of anything. August though, was ceaseless in his flirting. Little quips you’d ignore and the touches he’d try to pass off as accidental. You weren’t the only one to notice.

After one final tray, you walked back into the kitchen to see everything was being put away.

“Are we done?” you asked the organizer.

“Mhm, nights just about over. You can see Cian for the pay,” she pointed in the direction of the back door.

“Great, thanks,” you smiled.

Shit. What were you gonna do now? You needed to get this ring on August so you could get his new home base location and set up the new surveillance. He only had about a week left undercover if all went according to plan, but you still needed to get eyes on him and get the new trackers planted and live.

“Hey, Ashley.

Ashley!

Ashley?”

You looked around the kitchen confused as to who this Cian guy was calling, the louder his voice rose the more derailed your train of thought was getting...

“Hello, Ashley?” he said again, closer to you this time he spoke.

Who the hell is… oh shit.

You spun around and forced a smile and a titter.

“Sorry,” you laughed at yourself, playing up the bubbly tone to your voice, “I’m over here in la la land.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cian smiled, handing you a wad of cash. “If I had a man looking at me the way that guy has been looking at you all night, I’d be the same.”

“Oh,” you breathed, looking down with a soft smile, playing as coy as possible. “Was it that noticeable?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he put his hands on your shoulders and spun you back around, “go get his number before I do.”

You laughed as he pushed you back out of the kitchen. You dropped your smile the second the door closed and stuffed your cash in your bra. Now to get him alone...

Walking back out into the party area, you immediately made eye contact with August.

His target was off in a corner talking to that same man he had been speaking to before. His back was to the room so he didn’t see you and didn’t notice August as he followed you.

You walked slowly along the wall of the room as not to draw attention from anyone before you turned down the long, dark hallway off to the side.

You were two steps down the empty corridor when August’s hands were suddenly on you, turning you to face him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he seethed.

“Helping,” you responded with just as much enthusiasm, pulling your arm from his tight hold.

“You didn’t think to give me some kind of warning?”

“And how the hell was I supposed to do that? You completely crushed our only form of contact with you-”

“What would you rather I have done, huh? ‘Sorry, can’t break my phone, my team is listening and keeping tabs on me through it.’,” he said sarcastically, “You think that would’ve played over well?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. But god, did he really need to be so forceful and mean when you were helping him out. Some part of you thought he'd be, you didn't know, proud? You'd never been in the field before and certainly never gone undercover. You had to do some pretty intense convincing to get the green light on this little operation. You knew August was gruff and almost always a little mean, especially to you, but the least he could do was be the tiniest bit grateful.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “Doesn’t matter now. But we need something on you.”

You reached again into your bra, August’s eyes ever attentive to your movements.

“Here,” you pulled out the ring you made for him. “It’s identical to the one you always wear, so just swap it for tonight. Once we get your new coordinates I'll be able to set up surveillance and figure out another way to get comms through."

You watch as August slips his ring off, sliding your tracker ring in its place.

You sense someone at the start of the hallway and flick your eyes over, "Your friend is staring."

"Is he now?" August asks as he steps closer to you, intruding in your space as he back you up against the wall. You don't say anything, just look in his eyes as your breathing slows for a moment.

His hand comes up as he cradles your cheek in his touch, "We better make this believable, then."

Your eyebrows furrow but you don't have time to speak a word before August pulls you close to him and kisses you hotly.

Vaguely, you're aware of the way his mark was just about to head in your direction before August pulled you into him and how he is now shaking his head as he retreats back some.

You're kissing August back with just as much fervor as his other hand slides down the curve of your waist. You're expecting his hand to settle on your hip but you murmur into the kiss as his touch slides lower before he grabs your ass as forces your body as close to his as he possibly can, earning a near squeal from you.

Of course, he finds that amusing as he smirks against your lips before he does it again. Your hands are bracing you against him, one on his chest and one on his stomach as you fist his shirt in your hand at the second grope.

You break away finally for air but he doesn't let you get away from him at all. His nose nuzzles yours and his moustache tickles you before his lips are on yours once again. Hot and firm before he slips his expert tongue into your mouth. You truly forget where you are and what you're doing as he kisses you like you've never been kissed before and his incessant hands feel up and down your body.

You're suddenly pushed back against what you think is a wall until you feel August's hand searching for something. The pushing down of a handle and the creak of a door opening directly behind you gives you some warning before you're urged back into the dark room. August spins around, leaning out of the door a bit and puts on a show of looking both ways before he pretends to spot his guy.

He smirks and sends him a wink.

"I told ya'," he says smugly as he starts to shut the door, "Give me twenty minutes."

The door shuts and August turns back to you, walking you back in the darkened room.

"You told him what?" you ask breathily despite yourself.

"That I'd be able to get you in the back room by the end of the night," he answers huskily, still advancing toward you. You gasp as your legs hit the back of something. You look over your shoulder behind you and are shoved by August down onto the lavish bed.

You scoff at him as you sit on the mattress, and he stands right in front of you. "No one can see us now," you assert, unsure as to why he still has that look in his eye. The one that spells nothing but trouble.

"No," he agrees, "but odds are he's gonna come by the door and try to eavesdrop," he gets closer and his bulge is prominent now as your mouth parts of her own accord. "You don't wanna blow my cover now do you?"

His hands come to his belt and you watch entranced as he unbuckles it and begins working at the zip of his pants, his heavy eyes never leaving you.

You look up at him as he starts to push them down and you really have no control over yourself as you lean back onto the bed, scooting up to give you both more room as he comes down and begins to crawl on top of you.

Your head is swimming as he kisses you again, his hands on your head as he guides you down.

"Such a good little agent you are," he taunts against your lips, moving down your body until his hands are between your thick thighs, spreading your legs as he keeps you open for him. "You'd do anything for a superior, wouldn't you," he breathes hotly along your skin as he easily tears your nylons, not even bothering to try and work them down your legs first.

You had forgone underwear, and you murmur as he kisses your neck, his thick fingers gliding along your now exposed cunt, feeling just how wet you are for him already. It's pathetic but you have no defense for yourself - not against his touch or his words...

He has one hand playing with your pussy and the other groping at your chest, and you know he's enjoying hearing all the little whines and whimpers he's getting out of you.

Finally, he decides he's ready to give you a little more. He holds himself above you as he stays between your legs, grabbing his thick length in one hand. He runs the tip of himself up and down your pussy, getting himself wet with your arousal and sending sparks lighting up your body as he teases your clit over and over. The sight of him, tall, built, powerful and ever superior, still dressed with his cock out as he plays with you, exposed before him, is something you never thought you'd see, but god, you can't say you aren't loving it.

He sees the moment you're about to open your mouth and plead for him, but he stops you before you can. In one swift, unexpected motion, August shoves his cock into your tight cunt and grabs your throat with his other hand, squeezing you into silence as your walls squeeze his thick length.

You bring one hand to his wrist as your eyes threaten to roll back from the overwhelming pleasure. He isn't choking you, he's just squeezing... with the perfect amount of pressure. Fuck, it's like he-

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that angel," he smirks as he moves his hips against you, rocking in and out of you as he sets his rhythm. "I just got in ya, you're goin' dumb on me already?"

You're damn near instantly a moaning mess beneath him as he fucks you, going harder and deeper with each thrust.

He's grunting over you, staring down at you with a sick dark lust swimming in his gaze that you almost wish you didn't know how to place... almost.

His smirk is unbreakable as you babble on and his hand trails from around your throat to tug down the neckline of your dress. He pulls until you sit up a bit and free your arms of their sleeves, pushing the material down your torso. He laughs at the cash you have stuffed in your bra before he tears it off of you.

His fingers move to tweak your hard nipples and you groan and gasp at the sensation, your walls tightening around his cock as he rocks his hips against yours. "Au-" your moan is cut off as he grabs your face in one hand, smooshing your cheeks while you look up at him pathetically.

"No names, angel. Don't be fucking stupid," he growls, fucking into you harder as he chases his high. "You see his shoes under the door," he whispers, your eyes move and you nod dumbly as you see them. "Don't talk until you see him leave."

He lowers himself closer to you as his hand returns to your neck. He groans as you slide one leg up the bed, keeping yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts into you. He kisses you sloppily, it's all tongue and teeth as he grunts and moans into your mouth, his mustache tickling your lip as he speaks through ragged breaths.

"Fuck, you have no idea how badly I've needed this," he says. You look back to the door and see the shoes are gone and you're alone again, briefly you wonder how August knew he was gone but you don't have the wherewithal to ask him as he keeps fucking you like he doesn't have a care in the world for anything other than your pussy. Maybe he really is just that good.

"You haven't even been undercover for a week," you respond quietly with a weak laugh as your eyelids flutter - his rushed movements stimulating your sensitive clit. God, you feel drunk. Is this really happening right now? Are you actually getting fucked by August Walker while you're both undercover and could theoretically be compromised any second? His strong hand on your hip as he sits up, keeping his cock inside you and his thick fingers rubbing your clit are your answer.

"Not just sex, angel. No, I can get that from anyone. I mean you," he thrusts into you slower now, working his cock in and out of you as he rubs your clit. Your walls are bearing down on him as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm. His eyes squeeze shut as he groans headily, "Fuck, Fowler said you were good, he didn't say just how fucking good," he says through grit teeth as his cock drags deliciously along your walls.

The mention of Nick's name has your belly in a flurry of emotions but mostly, right now anyway, it just serves to push you ever closer to that edge. You whimper a moan as your leg threatens to shake. The coil in your belly is winding tighter and tighter the more he says and the dirtier his words get. Your toes are curling as he circles your clit perfectly.

"You like that, huh? Knowing he talks about you to other men, tells us how much of a fucking slut you are for him," he taunts, each sentence punctuated by another thrust. "How pissed off do you think he'll be when I tell him just how easy it was to get you beneath me? Mm, do you think he'll even care at all? What else should he expect from a little whore like you. So desperate for everyone's approval I don't think you'd even mind being the communal slut for all of us to use whenever the fuck we want," you cry out as your orgasm hits you hard, so hard it's almost blinding. He's still playing with your clit and you're holding onto August like your life depends on it. He just doesn't stop. He moves you with surprising ease, pulling you up so you're straddling his lap now. You just came and you don't know how you're doing it, but despite your weakened legs, you start to move yourself on top of him, bouncing up and down his thick cock. His big hands are on your hips as he helps you keep the rhythm. Your arms are around his neck, your tits in his face as he holds you. You don't even really care about coming again, you just know you want to be full of him. He's right. You're desperate for approval. You wanna make him come. You want him to talk about how good you are to the other guys, just like Nick does. It's embarrassing and shameful but it's true. Everything he's saying is true. Being their shared slut sounds like heaven to you. You don't care if they just want to use you, not in the moment, anyway. You just want to be useful to them, to all of them, any way you can be. You want to be good. You want to be needed... to be wanted.

"Heard Barnes talking about you the other week, too. He get his cock in you yet?" he pants as he keeps you moving on his cock, his grip getting tighter. "Him and Rogers have a bet going, ya know. Which one of 'em will get to fuck you first. But smart money says they'll both lose. I think," he breathes, licking his lip, "you'd take 'em both at the same time - like the pathetic little whore you are, wouldn't you?"

Your eyes are closed tight as you ride his thick cock as best you can and all you can manage to do is mewl helplessly as your fingers twist in his hair. Your mind is playing out the scenes as he speaks them and it's turning you on even more... Bucky, Steve...August, Nick... Lloyd, Walter, fuck, all of them at the same time - using you however they wanted, however they needed and…God…yes.

August slaps your ass harshly, earning a yelp from you as your eyes shoot open.

"You answer me when I ask you a question, agent," he spits.

"Yes, sir," you respond obediently.

"Yes, sir, what?"

"Yes, I would take them both at the same time..." another slap to your ass, "like the pathetic little whore I am, sir," you respond as your skin feels like its on fire and your pussy squeezes his cock tighter with every word you're forced to speak.

"Fuuuck," he grunts, his hands on your soft ass, moving you up and down his shaft as your nails dig into the fabic of his shirt covering his shoulders. "I'm sure you can't wait to get back and let them fuck you every which way, but right now, angel," he husks gripping and kneading your softness, slamming you down again on his cock before he starts fucking up into you, "right now you're all mine."

His thrusts are ruthless and the only reason you're still upright is because you're clutching onto him with what little strength you have left. You bury your face in his neck as you cry and whine your pleasure, somehow finding yourself on the verge of another orgasm as he uses you like nothing more than a toy.

You mindlessly snake a hand down between your bodies and rub at your clit as you feel yourself a breath away from release.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you, angel," he taunts darkly. "You wanna come again for me? I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock. Fuck you feel so goddamn good. I'm gonna fuckin come, and you're gonna be good and take it all, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, please," you whine, "I'm good. Whatever you want, I'll take it, please, please. Oh, fuck, please," you groan through clenched teeth, "give it to me."

You can hear your own debauchery and if his cock filling you up wasn't pure ecstasy, you just might care enough to be embarrassed by it.

He slaps your ass again, just for fun this time as he thrusts up into you. He hits hard as you gasp and he ruts up into you once, twice more, before you finally can feel his hot seed filling you up and dripping out of you as he comes hard. He's growling and swearing as he holds you to him, making sure he gets every last drop out. You're sticky, a total mess between your legs as you both catch your breath.

He moves you off of him, not carelessly, but not carefully either.

You watch as he cleans himself up and tucks his softening cock back in his pants as you pull your arms back into the sleeves of your dress.

He bends down to pick something up and you're momentarily stunned when he stands and throws your cash on you. "You definitely earned that tonight," he laughs as he buckles his belt.

You blink down at the money, seconds away from either blowing up on him or shutting down entirely, you aren’t sure…and then are once again surprised when August leans in and kisses you on the cheek.

"Thanks for the ring, angel," he says as he moves to the door. "Don't act surprised when I get back into town next week," he turns to look at you, "you'll be my first stop."

Your lips twitch, threatening to turn into a smile as you watch him leave. You wouldn’t mind that.

You wait a few minutes, having cleaned yourself up some in the en suite bathroom, before you make sure you have everything and leave as well.

You exit through the front doors and make your way down the grand front steps to your ride.

They're parked across the street, but come up to the curb as they see you approach.

You pull open the passenger side door and get in with a huff.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought it would, but he got the tracker, so... all good."

It's quiet, he doesn't respond to your explanation, not that you entirely expected him to. You never know what you’ll get with him. Sometimes he’s friendly, bordering on flirty even, and other times he’s this. After all the surveillance stakeouts you’ve been on together, you’re used to it all.

He pulls off and you're on your way back to the city. You now expect an uneventful ride, but when God pulls up to the first stop sign where no one else is around, he finally speaks.

"That necklace I gave you," he says,

You look down at the pendant he told you to wear tonight, a tracker, you assumed, "Yeah?"

He takes a deep, drawn out breath before he looks at you with his ever scrutinizing gaze.

"It's a recording device."

It's your turn to be quiet now as your skin burns. Your eyes go wide for a second before you bother trying to school your reaction. Even then, “Oh," is all you can manage to squeak out.

He looks at you as you stare unsurely at him, those bright blue eyes penetrating you. You're almost scared for a moment, wondering what he must think of you after hearing all of what he heard... not everyone is into everything, you know that. You just hope he won’t think badly of you - not only for what you did but for everything August said that you didn’t refute once, for everything you said in turn…and then he grabs your hand. You don't break eye contact as he guides your touch to his pants, making you feel his hard cock as it strains against the material of his dark jeans.

You almost can't believe it, your head swimming as reality catches up to you. Maybe your fantasy really is possible...

You squeeze his cock gently through his jeans as he keeps his eyes on you. He groans when you do it again, "You wanna be good for me, too, sweetheart? Get the whole team on board?"

You nod.

Of course you do.

[munsster]

cropped

A/N: if i had a boyfriend i would simply cut off the bottoms of all of his shirts. it’s not toxic, im just a girl (gif creds: @lomlkeery)

Pairing: Walter “Keys” McKey x GN!Reader

Summary: You convince your easily flustered boyfriend to put on a crop top. 0.7k words

Warnings: a little bit of physical insecurity, fluff, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)

"Keys, get your cute butt out here! I wanna see."

Oh, but he's groaning through the door already. You had burst into the apartment parading an overzised bag full of soft cottons and light denim, dropped it at his feet, and declared you bought him a new outfit. And that he must try it on. You picked it out special for him after all.

"Really? I mean, it fits great, I just..."

You've been pining over his midriff since he yawned one wednesday afternoon, arms stretched high above his head, shirt riding up just enough to expose his navel to your wandering eyes. So, of course, you warmed him up to the idea of shorter shirts. Crop tops, to be specific. You know, like the kind Johnny Depp sports in Nightmare on Elm Street. Or Mark Wahlberg in that cheeky Calvin Klein ad.

Keys wasn't sure for a while, but he noticed the way your face lit up at the mere thought, and figured why the hell not. But now, he's staring down at the crop of this particular top and thinking this whole thing might've been an oversight on his part. The light grey tank is loose around his ribcage, the graphic on the front some generic athletic slogan.

I don't want you to realize you wasted your money on an outfit that's a little lackluster now that I'm wearing it, he thinks. Which is silly, and he knows that you like anything he has on simply because he's the one wearing it. But the thought still creeps in. He startles when you knock on the master bathroom door.

"You okay in there?" you coo, tapping your fingers gently across the wood.

"Yeah," he sighs, "yeah, I'm okay. Just..." Worried he'll disappoint you. Maybe he could try and squeeze through the bathroom window before it's too late.

"Can I come in?"

He gulps, tugging on the droopy waist of the jeans one more time before turning the lock on the door. You gasp.

"Baby, you look..."

Silly?

"Delicious!" you squeal, pawing at his waist and latching your lips onto his neck almost immediately. Your thumbs sink into his sides when you pull away, pupils blown and mouth just barely ajar. "You're a total stud!"

"You think so?" His ego's a little out of wack when you nod wildly.

"Keys, you're so yummy," you tease, "Just like Marky Mark." You grab his hand and tug him into the bedroom, stopping short of the bed, much to his dismay. It gets him all hot and bothered the way you cling to his hips and kiss his cupid's bow. You're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, and you're treating him like he's made of molten gold.

He can barely get a word out without a stutter. God, the way you make him blush should be illegal. He's complete mush in your adoring palms, wishing you'd never take your hands off of him lest he combust. Then, you slip your fingertips just under the waistband of the jeans and he hums.

"Sorry," you snicker, knowing exactly what you're doing to him.

"Shut up," he grumbles.

You draw your hands up the curve of his back, tracing the valley of his spine until he shivers. His cheeks are glowing hot as he pecks wet kisses across your jaw and cheek and forehead. You giggle and drag your nails down to the small of his back with a contented sigh.

"Thank you for trying," you admit. Your head bows low, suddenly shy under all the glory of his honeyed scrutiny.

"What d'you mean? Of course I tried, sweetheart. I'd try anything for you," he says. You pout.

"Mean it?"

"Hell yeah. As long as you ask nice enough," he says, holding your jaw and pressing his soft lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You curl your hand around his wrist like a darling threadsnake kissing his fingertips.

"So much access to your mid section," you say, voice frenzied and eyes wide staring hungrily at his faint happy trail.

"What happened to our anti-objectification economy? What about our morals? Our ethics?" he says. Clearly, he's joking but his doe eyes twinkle dastardly behind his glasses. You wind your arm around his waist and smack his ass.

"What morals?"

"Touché, sweetheart."

masterlist

[zvdvdlvr]

The World We Knew

☢️ — synopsis. Sometimes even the Ghoul got lost in thought.

When Cooper was bored and there wasn’t anything worth shooting, he would find himself thinking of the love he had, the life he had, and the world he knew. He only let himself take a blast to the past once in a blue moon. Cooper knew that you were dead, your corpse long rotted over the 200 some years after the bombs dropped.

Admittedly this was one of the times Cooper would think of her.

The first time Cooper heard of you was after hearing your name being brought by some scriptwriters. “She’s just a young thing without much experience. We need to have a bigger name in this move, not some girl!”

The other man ‘tsk’ed. “Foolish man! I know the woman personally- not in such an inappropriate way, mind- and this would do wonders for her career! Y/n is truly a lovely thing and skilled at her trade. Just let me bring her in, Randy. Make your decision after you meet her.”

Randy sucked his teeth and massaged his temple. “Fine. A quick meeting. But when that thirty minutes is over, don’t yell at me when she’s thrown out.”

The Ghoul pulled out his canteen of miraculously clean water and took a sip. He had quietly grabbed a snack during their conversation and left without a word. Little did he know just how drastically his life would change after that conversation.

“Hello! I’m y/n l/n,” a woman greeted politely. She stuck out her manicured hand and shook Cooper’s tightly. Cooper was surprised by your firm and respectful handshake- he was used to people running up and hugging him or gushing and asking him questions.

“Well,” Cooper said as he returned your handshake. “I’m Cooper Howard, darlin’. More than happy to make your acquaintance. What brings you around… here?” He gestured to the men and women running around the movie set. He remembered your name from the overheard conversation from about a month ago. 

You just laughed. “It would appear, Mr. Howard, that I will be lucky enough to work with you. I would have gone as far as to guess the production crew would have told you? It was brought to my attention that you were aware of my arrival,” you explained. Cooper was amazed at your polite and easygoing nature. It felt wonderful to be treated like just and average Joe for once. “I’m sorry you had to find out by me, Mr. Howard. I was under the impression you were already aware of this arrangement.”

“Oh, Cooper or Coop is fine, sweetheart,” Cooper told you kindly. “And it is truly no problem. Why don’t we go and see if we can get you all situated?” To Cooper’s delight, you nodded with a grateful smile. “Well have some time left until we wrap up for the day: why don’t you tell me about yourself, darlin’?”

Heaving a sigh, Cooper lets himself kick aimlessly at a large chunk of rock. What he wouldn’t do to go back in time to just have another conversation with you…

You two had gotten alone like two peas in a pod! Weeks passed quickly and soon the movie Caught on the Tides was released. To no one’s surprise, it was a smashing hit. People apparently loved the idea of a woman who was practically immune to the male charm until Walter (Cooper) caught your eye at a local festival. It was an easygoing romance/comedy that was thankfully PG-13. As a young woman, the past roles you were offered were side pieces or basically selling yourself. You took what you could get and attempted to steer clear of the nudity.

The side celebratory party was amazing. Randy and Joseph had rented out a cozy little bar/restaurant building that had enough room for about 100 people. The other castmembers, producers, and writers were there along with quite a few guests.

As the night went on, though, you found yourself growing increasingly exhausted with all the plastered smiles and arm patting and men’s eyes dropping to your assets whenever they thought you wouldn’t notice. You slipped out a side door and dug out a smoke and a light from one of the pockets you’d personally sewn into your dress.

You had just slipped out of your heels and plopped (unladylike, of course, but no one else was there to reprimand you) when the door opened. The intrusion made you want to sigh unprofessionally loudly and hide in the puffy material of your dress. Until Cooper’s smooth voice and slim body say down right beside you.

“Some producers are lookin’ for you.” Cooper’s comment doesn’t have the sharpness your manager’s would when she hollered up a storm about your tendency to wander.

In response you only click your tongue and fill your lungs up with smoke. You turn and face Cooper, who’s complexion is lit wonderfully but the light of the full moon. “Do you think the man on the moon gets lonely, Coop?”

Cooper’s eyebrows dip downwards. “I- I’d imagine so. Can’t be too fun bein’ up there by his lonesome.”

“I think so too,” you hum. Smoke seeps out of your lips as you turn to ask him another question. “Do you ever feel like the man on the moon, Coop? I’m just- I- I wonder if I’m in over my head sometimes with everyone here, Coop, and I-“ your words stumble out of your mouth and your hands shake as you bring the cigarette to your lips again. “I just feel like… you’re the only one that knows what I’m talking about, what I’m feeling.”

Cooper stares into your teary eyes with a heavy heart. You brought out such a protective part of Cooper he hasn’t felt since… since falling in love for the first time. Cooper shook his head. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A sick part of him feels ecstatic that you are practically snuggling into his side- that you feel that he is the only one that understands. Deep down Cooper indulges himself in thinking you want him the way he wants you.

But you don’t. So Cooper is just barely content to let you lean into his side and tearfully ask for advice. “A part of that is always there, sweetheart. I feel like the man on the moon more than I’ll ever admit. But I’m also an old man who’s future is practically set in stone. You, though,” he chuckled and patted your side. You seeped into him and Cooper felt adrenaline rush through his veins. He could smell your delicately scented shampoo and matching body wash. “You could have any man on Earth you wanted, darlin’. Only a fool wouldn’t fall for you.”

You sighed and snuffed out your cigarette. Every part of you told you to leave him alone- to leave whatever relationship you have with him alone because he’s married (and you’d rather die than ruin your friendship). But being tucked under his arm and hearing the speed of his heartbeat made you think he felt the same as you. “Coop?”

Cooper looked back down at you. “Hm?”

“Are you a fool?”

Cooper’s heart raced. Your powerful gaze seemed to dig into his soul, searching for the answer he’d be damned to hell if he never gave you. “Do you take me for a fool, darlin’?”

You swallowed. “No, Cooper. Never.”

Within seconds, Cooper found his lips pressed against yours. He felt like exploding into a ton of confetti. His other hand came to cup your cheek and take dominance of your mouth. The passion Cooper felt was like none other and your breathless whimpers only encouraged him.

“Cooper…” you murmured, sitting up and grasping st the nape of Cooper’s neck. You felt perfect.

Cooper closed his eyes. He stood outside a familiar house. He figured he would stay here for the night. Cooper had already cleared, secured, and set traps around the building whenever he knew he’d be back.

Heaving a sigh, Cooper settled down on the bed and tilted his hat down over his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” Cooper muttered after wrapping a hand around your waist. “Got another birthday party and then I’m all yours, baby doll.”

The fall from fame was hard on everyone but Cooper refused to let it affect your career. He only saw you in professional settings and when no one saw you enter or leave his house. 

“Manager’s giving me the day, so I’ll be here all day if you don’t mind,” you said, scooping out cherry pie filling from the can to your mouth with a spoon. Frank Sinatra’s hauntingly low voice crackled through the radio, painting a scene Cooper wanted to commit to memory forever.

Cooper just shrugged. “Up to you,” he said. “How do I look?”

You tilted your head and slid off the counter. Your hands came up to adjust the collar of Cooper’s blue cowboy shirt. Then they slid down to his lapels to smooth back. “Perfect. Ready to roll, cowpoke,” you joked.

His soft eyes stopped you in your tracks. “Why’re you looking at me like that, Coop?”

“Like what?” Cooper asked. His tone was teasing but you noticed a hint of the seriousness that had grown on him as of late.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Coop. Like… like you love me, I suppose.”

Laughter filled the room, drowning Sinatra’s eerie song. “‘I suppose’?”

You shook your head with laughter. “I don’t want to overstep right now, Coop.”

The mood turned quiet again at your words. Cooper took your face in his hands and rested his thumbs under your eyes. “You don’t overstep, sweetheart. Speak your mind. Always.”

“I will. Promise,” you replied solemnly. Cooper pulled your face up to his and kissed you gently.

“I’ll be home later, sweetheart. Promise.”

You grabbed your spoon and the cherry pie filling before fallowing Cooper outside. The cool grass felt good on your bare feet as you watched Cooper mount his horse. When he looked back at you, Cooper broke out into laughter at the sight of you raising our eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart, and then we can get busy.”

You muttered something along the lines of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ before nodding with a comically dejected expression. “Alright. Bye Coop. Be safe!”

Cooper tipped his hat at you. “I will, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, now.”

Cooper could have sworn he heard you call out ‘I love you’ as he rode away. In fact, Cooper would have sworn on his life that you had said you loved him. But Cooper would just come home to you and hear you say it clearly when he got home.

If he got home.

200 years later, Cooper heard Frank Sinatra singing “over and over, I keep going over the world we knew” and wished he would have told you he loved you back.