#actually i feel like i need to get off my ass and watch severance once and for all

[vonlipvig]

i don't know what i'm gonna watch next, but my post-veep mind is telling me i should go for either seinfeld or the west wing. or maybe i'll just do nothing and rot, that too.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

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“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.

| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)

| 1k+ words

“You want me to…what?”

“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”

Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.

Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.

“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”

You laugh.

“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”

He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.

“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”

You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.

He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.

“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”

You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.

“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”

The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.

It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.

“Shit.”

The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.

You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.

You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.

Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.

All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.

By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.

At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.

Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

Black Noir's Personal Handler.

Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.

Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.

Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.

Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.

Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.

You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.

You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.

Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.

Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.

You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.

Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.

Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—

“—Fucking Christ!”

Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.

The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?

For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.

Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.

“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.

For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.

You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.

“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.

“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.

He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.

Huh.

Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.

‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.

‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.

You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.

You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.

“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.

A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.

You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.

A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.

Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.

You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.

God.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.

At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.

This was definitely better.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD *  assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

[greenunoreversecard]

HEYYEYHEY CAN I REQUEST LLOYD (ninjago) HEADCANONS PLEASEEEE (ty :3)

A/N: Ofc!I'll do general character ones, as well as x reader ones :) hope ye likey likey:pp

Lloyd, The Greenest and Geekest mf.

General character headcanons:

Half Japanese half Chinese

His hair is box blonde dye and you cannot change my mind.

Left handed

Severely dyslexic and hands off all scroll reading and just reading oriented tasks to kai.

Def gen z vibes. Like, the others give off more inbetween z and millenial, so they dont always get his humor. And sometimes he uses that to his advantage and "Speaks in code" (uses as much slang as possible)

Has LED lights in his room set to forest green.

Has given himself a smiley face tattoo.

Cried over a dead goose once.

OK, just to preface i see cole as a stoner of Sorts and uses the excuse "it gets me closer to my element"

With that in mind cole let lloyd try it and now sometimes when he is told to unwind, of feels like he needs to take a chill pill he and Cole spark up

in the beginning of his leader ship role, he used to Say;"kick ass and take names" and if things went wrong he had the fuck it we ball mindset, but got better with time. There are still times they wing it, though.

if he isnt in his gi he almost exclusively wears his pajamas (aka a Hoodie, tshirt and sweats)

Vv tired, and now has a raging addiction to energy drinks due to his lack of Sleep.

He used to eat worms as a kid bc he Thought he it was evil.

Has a eyebrow piercing, and wants a tongue piercing.

Wears "reading" glasses, that he should technically wear all the time because he can't see up close and has a astigmatism,, but he says yolo. Zane then make him contacts after he almost ran into a moving blade and got his head severed.

Adhd and OCD, as well as the normal line up (anxiety, depression, cptsd)

Lloyd in a relationship:

Hes very distant in the beginning, it'll take time to warm up to you.

He tends to be orage cat vibes.

On the cat trend, he gets close for a bit Before becoming distant. Going through waves of affection, kinda.

He hasn't had like, any good relationships in his life so he tries to "protect" himself when he feels he gets to close to you, and so he pulls away.

He does the fuckboy face when your sad bc it makes you laugh, as well as That weird dice roll

He actually does the face/dice roll combo whenever he Sees you as he walks over, it's an inside joke now

primary giving love language: acts of service and quality time

Primary receiving love language: gifts and words of affirmation. But physical touch is also high up there.

Also, not expensive gifts. He hates those. Give him a stick you saw on a walk that made you think of him. He'll cherish it forever. And maybe cry.

He will cry.

will make noises at you and expects a noise in response or he'll be sad.

Also randomly bites you. He's a nommer

also sends you memes throughout the day.

As well as random pictures with the caption;"BABY LOK THIS IS S. US IF WE WHERE *insert whatever item here*

Called you babe, baby, love, shitface, asshole.

Expect kind and loving gentle bullying.

Doesnt know how to express his emotions to just expect him to come up to you, lightly shake your shoulders and aggressively say;"I love you bitch.i ain't Evea gon stop lovin you. Bitchhhhhhh" (vine reference)

Sends you .5 of everyone, himself included. He's addicted to Taking them. You will not get out of it.

Also sometimes just walks around in nyas stilettos for fun.

You two have fashion shows.

You also take over the Living room sometimes and build giant ass forts to watch shitty reality tv in and make fun oF The people

Overall, once he realizes you won't leave he's the most funniest loving chaotic guy.

But expect it to take a hot minute for him to realsie this

give him time,, but also have some deep talks..

Let him vent

and for the love of God don't hurt the baby's heart.

Expect inside jokes

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I would love to know how Cooper would be with someone who is unintentionally 'sneaky.' Because apparently I can walk into a room, in a totally normal way, and startle someone because I'm too quiet? Or just be sitting in the living room and no one notices I'm there until I say something. I imagine the Ghoul would be pissed that someone could sneak up on him and then finding out they weren't even trying? But he'd also be like 'I could use someone like that' and whoops that's how you end up as the Ghoul's sidekick. Actually almost shoots you on occasion. Nicknames you Sand Cat and grows fond of you but won't admit it unless you're I'm danger or hurt or something

Cooper: I outta put a god damn bell on you *indistinct, pissed off grumbling* sneakin' around like a fuckin' cat!

Sand Cat: ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

I love your writing and get so excited when I see you in my notifs!

This is SO cute, Anon. I, too, am an "accidentally stealthy" person with naturally light footsteps, so I feel you strongly on this.

I can perfectly imagine this man's sheer embarrassment the first time you manage to sneak up on him. He'd probably dump you wherever you're setting up for the night and go to do a perimeter check, not anticipating that you'll seek him out for anything, figuring he'll be left alone with his thoughts. The two of you have only been traveling together for a while and he's quite distracted by you, so when you manage to somehow pop up behind him, he's instantly on guard, pulling his pistol from his hip and pivoting towards you. Whatever you were planning to ask him disappears from your mind in shock at his reaction, and you swear you weren't trying to sneak up on him. He's not too eager to believe you.

Chalking that first encounter up to him being distracted, he's extra grouchy when you manage to do the same thing several more times.

He does, in fact, quip that he should put a bell on you, but, like many of his one-liners, it goes right over your head. He doesn't bother to take the time to explain the whole "noisy pet collar" thing unless you ask him to clarify.

His little banter comes across like a joke, but it isn't, really. After that, he actually does start sneaking "loud junk" into your pockets and bag when you aren't looking in order to keep track of you. At first, he uses spent shotgun shells, but once he starts to like you, he slips caps into your pockets. They make a more distinct sound, anyway.

Once he grows to anticipate your silence, he starts to actually appreciate it. The two of you can explore and cross through more risky territory when you want or need to without him having to worry so much about being discovered. He teaches you how to watch for booby traps, tripwires and armed mines, and even helps you improve your ability to disarm them. He's not as good with explosives as he is with guns, but he's still adept enough with them to show you a few things. Eventually, the two of you fall in sync enough that he can use your stealth to sneak up on people when necessary.

Slowly, the more and more "adventures" you two get into, he begins to appreciate you for your intelligence, your kindness towards him, your strategic mind.

He also notices that your ass looks pretty nice when you're crouched down sneaking around...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The delivery truck shows up after noon. You watch as the driver unloads the bags of flour, the cartons of dairy, and several flats of eggs. You thank him and give him the standard tip. The last-minute call will save you time, especially since Carla called in. Thankfully, that girl agreed to help out for the party.

As you carry bags of flour in on a cart, you can't help but think of her. You made certain to extend her impromptu interview. She's shy, a bit jumpy, better kept in the kitchen which is exactly where you'll need her. You can't help but assume some of that has to do with that man. You noticed how he hovered, sat in the corner and waited...

Not long enough. You took the girl into the back to show her a few things and go over expectations. When you returned, he was gone. You sent her off with some day-old scones for her grandmother. Something about her makes you want to take care of her. She has an aura as if she's desperate for anyone to do so but is just too afraid to ask for it.

You try to shrug off the morning as you come back out into the sunlight. You're startled to find someone lifting two of the flour bags, almost effortlessly so. Then you're chagrined as you recognise the man with the mustache. He grins as he straightens and gives you a wink."Need some muscles?" He asks.

"Got a cart," you roll towards him.

"Nah, I got it," he hikes up the bags, dusting flour from the seams onto his black shirt.

"Really, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Trust me, honey, I know how to toss a bag around," he pokes his tongue out.

"You're not insured," you grimace, "just put it on the car--"

He strides past you before you can stop him. You shake your head. Whatever. You need to get the eggs and dairy inside. You focus on loading up both tiers of the carts and he returns to grab more flour. You ignore him as you turn up the alley and wheel around the back door.

You feel him behind you as you reach the door, propped open with a stopper. You push the cart inside and into the kitchen. He follows you inside, stacking the sacks with the rest. You face him with a heave.

"You can't be back here," you shoo him away as you twirl the cart around.

"What? I'm helping."

"I didn't ask--"

"Right, but look at you. You don't need to ask. A gal like you needs a strong man to look after her."

"Not really," you squint.

"With an ass like that, you need someone watching it--"

"Alright, I would appreciate it if you left. Right now. I don't need help."

"Honey, honey," he shows his palms placatingly, "I'm paying you a compliment. Whatsa matter? Does the husband not appreciate that peach or is he too busy at the office with the side piece--"

"You don't know me and you won't," you push the cart at him. He doesn't move and you don't stop, hitting his legs as he staggers back.

"Wow, what the fuck, sweet cheeks? That's rude."

"You're rude," you retort, "you're trespassing. Get out of my kitchen, now."

"Oh ho ho, spicy, I like it," he touches his fingertip to his tongue and gives a hiss before pointing at you. "I don't see gold on that finger, even if I did, it wouldn't stop me." He reaches out as you rear the cart back and go to hit him again. He catches it and leans forward as his timbre deepens to a sneer, "I'm interested now, honey buns. Very fucking interested."

He grips the cart and twists it, sending it clattering to the floor with a clang. You reel back and cover your ears at the echo. You stare down at it in shock.

"See ya around," he gives a two-finger salute, "hopefully from behind."

He spins and struts out, leaving you fuming and slightly addled. You trust he will keep his promise. There isn't much else to do around here.

🥧

Saturday arrives sooner than you're ready for it. You begin the day in the cafe, overseeing the general operations and readying for service at the B&B. Your new helper shows up early and is eager but nervous in her assistance. She takes orders well but is sheepish in her approach.

You have her roll out some dough for croissants, a simple process you're confident she can handle. She helps put pans into the oven and is more certain as she goes. By the time you're ready to leave, she's as good as jittering with nerves.

"I've never been to the B&B," she murmurs, more to herself than you as she gets in the front of the truck.

"You'll like it," Katherine says over her shoulder as she sits in the passenger seat.

Carla declined as she did indeed have a party to attend. You think you know where she'll be as there isn't a booming social scene in Hammer Ford. At her age, you wouldn't have done any different.

You drive along towards Thunder Lane. You wonder at the demographic you should expect. Carla's not really a peer to Thor, and even further away from Frigga. The last time you ventured up there, the event was refined. More a dinner party than a party party.

You arrive and unload through the rear doors, just like before. Your helper works diligently to help you bring in the prepped trays. As you get sorted in the kitchen, Gavin enters in his usual overdone attire.

"Miss, Madame Odinson has left her gratuity," he nears and offers an envelope, "she truly appreciates the effort."

"Is she not here?" You ask.

"Ah, sadly she has gone away with Monsieur Odinson. They celebrated at brunch before they departed," he explains.

"I suppose that makes sense," you accept, "no worries. We have everything ready. Would... Would it be more of a buffet style then?"

"Yes, I think that would work well, I don't think the guests will be sat very long."

"Right," you agree, "easier for us."

"There she is!" Thor's booming voice makes you jump, "it already smells wonderful in here."

"Thor," you greet with a taut smile as he greets you in his usual manner. He grabs you pie the shoulders and pecks your cheek sloppily. "Nice to see you too."

"Mmm, and you, new perfume?" He tilts his head.

"No," you sniff, "so... all this for a birthday?"

"Well it is a big one," he declares his eyes wandering over to your assistants, "you needn't hole up in the kitchen too long. You're more than welcome to come delight in your hard work."

"That's very generous," you say, "but we'll be cleaning up and all that."

"Ugh, forget about all that," he waves off your deflection, "I have a very special guest, she has a very particular palate. Did mother ask for seafood? Oysters? I hear they are an aphrodisiac."

"We don't have any oysters. Couldn't get them on short-notice, but we have crab and shrimp--"

"Same thing," he chortles, "anyhoo, it is my party, I can't be hiding by the ovens all night." He stops to kiss the other two girls on their cheeks with a 'ladies', and leaves. Katherine nearly swoons as the other girl looks ready to fall over.

"He's... loud," the quiet one says.

"And so handsome," Katherine purrs.

"Alright, we have to get this plated. And trays in the oven," you order them.

Music suddenly blares before reverting to a tolerable level. Oh, you're certain Frigga has no idea the sort of party she booked you for. Katherine stares longingly towards the door.

"If you get your work done," you say, "you can go out there.”

She beams with excitement and quickly turns to the cart to grab a tray. You sigh and glance at your other helper. At least she looks too scared to venture further into the fire.

[ohbo-ohno]

Hi, I love your writing so so so so so much and it's like my goal in life to get as good as writing as you, but I was just wanting to ask if you would write a ghoap puppy play drabble but with a ftm reader, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but I actually can't find any puppy play stuff with a ftm reader in it and I would literally worship the ground you walk on if you did (if you don't feel comfortable doing this please don't)

yknow i dont take requests but you're actually the sweetest person alive (and i want to write puppy play rn) so sure!!! tysm for such kind words <3 (also your goal should be to get 10x better than me but i love you anyway)

1.8k of ghoap x ftm!reader with puppy play :) words used for reader's genitalia are cunt, hole, and cock (also reader is called pretty once)

It's a struggle not to beg, but you're a good boy. You stay still on your knees, paws resting on the wood below you, and you focus all of your attention on staying good.

Johnny's not good. Johnny's never a good boy, and usually that's a blessing for you, but right now it's a curse.

A whine slips from your lips, unintentional but loud. You lick your lips, swallow, and try to settle. Still, you've drawn Ghost's attention.

His hand stills in the air and he cocks an eyebrow. "Need somethin', pup?"

You lick your lips beneath the wire muzzle, shake your head. You don't need anything, you only want his hands on you. Simon's the only one who decides what you want.

He lands another smack against Johnny's bared ass, and the other pup wriggles on his lap, eyes screwed up - in pain or pleasure, you can't tell.

"Look'it him," Ghost rumbles, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and forcing him to look at where you're knelt several feet away. "He's gotta wait for his turn because you can't remember how to be good. That seem fair?" He shakes Johnny's head for him, and you catch him smirk when Johnny whines. "You'd be barkin' and howlin' like I'd fuckin' shot you if your positions were reversed, but he's sitting there, nice and pretty."

You shift on your knees, padded hands tapping the floor in an effort to expel any of your energy. You pant with your mouth wide open, keep your eyes locked on Ghost, trying to ignore the clenching of your hole on nothing but air.

"Poor puppy," Ghost coos, voice edging into that part-affectionate part-condescending tone that makes you drip. "Having to watch me punish Johnny, when you should be getting all my attention. Is not fair, is it?"

That's a trick question, you know it. Anything Simon decides is fair, that's how this works, and you know intuitively that there's no right answer.

You whine, then yip, leaning forward a bit.

He laughs, letting go of Johnny's head and delivering another blow, this one making Johnny wail from behind his own muzzle.

"Little longer, pup," Ghost calls over Johnny's cries, every smack nearly as loud. "Just keep bein' good for me."

You can't help your noises as you watch Johnny's punishment, but you don't move. Your hips rock against the air, but you don't try and push your paws against your cock, don't try and get yourself off without permission.

You're good, you're a good boy. Ghost said so.

You try to keep your breathing even, try to keep yourself away from that cliff-edge of desperation that can get you in trouble, but it's almost impossible with the show you're watching

Johnny's face is red, streaked with tears as he takes his punishment. His thighs and ass are the same shade of red, and the cock hanging between Ghost's spread knees matches too. He's kept hard by the black cock ring at his base, but you know he doesn't need it. His feet kick and push at the couch cushions to no avail, his mitted hands punching and pushing at the arm of the couch.

He's more muted than you, his muzzle a thick leather instead of wire, but you can still hear the way he cries. Johnny's always been loud, and he's not shy about voicing his displeasure.

Eventually, Simon begins to slow his strokes, the sound of his slaps becoming quieter and the time between each one lengthening. Johnny's cries quiet to sniffles, and you shift forward even more, knowing what's coming.

You just barely manage to hold back a whine.

"See?" Ghost rumbles, stroking up and down Johnny's sweat-slick back. "You're alright, hush now. You bring it on yourself, Johnny. Wouldn't need a punishment if you could behave more than five minutes."

His eyes shift up to yours, and you can't bite back the whine this time. Ghost smiles at you as he shifts Johnny from his lap to the floor.

"Nothing like you, huh pup?" He raises a hand, motions you forward, and you're quick to crawl to him. You shove your head into his hand, melting into the scratches through your hair. Soap stays hunched on the floor next to you, head resting on Ghost's knee as he catches your breath.

"Yeah, you're my well-behaved puppy. Nothing like the mutt, hm?" You lean further into his hand, smiling when he chuckles and gives you the pets you desperately want. "My well trained pure-bred, hm? Maybe I should enter you in shows, let everyone see how perfect you are."

Johnny whines from next to you, digging his face further into Ghost's knee. Simon scoffs, but pets him too.

"Nah, couldn't do that with you, mutt. You'd embarrass me just for the punishment." His words are mean but Ghost's tone is soft, and Johnny's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the soft scratches to his scalp. "But you'd be jealous if he got all the attention, wouldn't you?" Ghost sighs, then uses his hands to push the both of you in so your muzzled cheeks are pressed together. "Guess I'll have to keep you all for myself."

Despite your own arousal, it's not too difficult for you to sit and wait while Ghost coaxes Johnny out of his punishment-headspace. It's nice to float in the softness, so rare with the three of you, and you're content with Ghost's hand on your head.

Eventually, he moves away.

"Alright, you want your treat, pup?"

You blink hazy eyes open, shifting to try and follow his hand with a whine. He smiles at you, and grabs you by the nape of the neck to guide you more fully between his legs.

"C'mon, don't you want a reward for bein' a good boy? I think Johnny deserves one too, for takin' his punishment so well."

Soap is quicker to perk up than you, quickly crawling so he's behind you. Realizing what's going on, you sit up more fully on your knees and brace your paws on Ghost's thighs, looking up at him and smiling.

"Pretty thing," he coos. "Don't worry, you'll get to come. Johnny." He snaps, the sound loud right next to your ear. "Go on. Mount him."

Johnny doesn't have the self-control to give you time to adjust, or to go slowly. One minute you're empty and aching, the next you're stuffed to the brim and stretched wide around Johnny's cock.

You both moan, and you feel the leather of his muzzle bump against your naked shoulder. You melt into the space between Ghost's thighs, eye-level with his cock tugged out of his pants as Johnny fucks you without giving you any time to adjust.

You whine loudly, eyes screwing shut at the near painful drag of his cock in and out of your hole. It's good to be filled, satisfying an ache that you've been fighting for what feels like hours, but your body can't help but fight the intrusion, pushing you further up on your knees and making you look up at Ghost for comfort.

He only smirks and pets a hand through your hair as Johnny snarls at your attempt to get away, paws landing on your shoulders and pushing you down into his ruthless thrusts. He snarls at your yelp, wide even behind the muzzle.

"You're alright," Ghost says, hand guiding your head to rest on his inner thighs. "We both know you like it rough, pup, be a good boy and let Johnny give you what you need."

He's right, Ghost is always right, and it doesn't take long for the sharp stretch to turn to pleasure, for the heavy drag of Johnny's cock in and out of you to leave you moaning instead of whining.

You pant with an open mouth, tongue lolling out to rest on your tongue as you try and breathe through the fucking, brain scrambled. Johnny's just as loud behind you, snarls and grunts and moans slipping through the leather as he bullies himself inside of you.

"There ya go, good boy," Ghost rumbles, giving you a solid pat. "Both of you, my two good boys. You're fuckin' him so good, Johnny, giving him such a good treat."

You work your hips against Johnny, pushing back in search for more pleasure, and whine high in your throat when it's still not enough.

"Y'need more, puppy?" Ghost asks, and you nod yes as vigorously as you can with your whole body being rocked in place.

"Here," he grunts as he shifts, moving one leg between your thighs and pressing his boot against your cock. You melt at the sensation, shoving yourself up and grinding against the strings. Your cries are almost deafening as Johnny's thrusts don't falter, the combination of stimulation heavenly.

"Go on, get yourself off. You've earned it."

You don't last long after that. You work your hips against his boot, the texture rough but perfect against your slick and swollen cock, sensitive hole still pounded mercilessly by Johnny. You feel insane with pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head and drool slipping endlessly down your chin as you let yourself drown in in.

You clench hard around Johnny when you finally come, cunt clenching him and milking him for all he's worth. He howls from behind his muzzle, pressing his face along your neck. You know if his mouth was free he'd be marking you, sucking bruises into your skin and covering you in his spit. You almost whine at the lack of it.

But you're far too drenched in your own euphoria to miss anything, really, your only focus on pushing yourself to higher heights of pleasure.

You float down, eventually, but you're immediately thrown into overstimulation as Johnny's pace continues exactly as it was. He continues to pound into your mercilessly, the sound of your slick shameful in the quiet room.

You paw in a panic at Ghost's thighs, looking up at him with wide eyes as you press closer to try and get away from the cock rearranging your insides. He only smirks and presses his boot up, the pressure against your cock so soon after an orgasm absolute torture.

"Let Johnny have his treat now," he scolds lightly, giving you a slight tap to your cheek that has you trying to nuzzle yourself into the crease between his thighs and hip. "Maybe he'll manage to get off, even with that pretty ring on his cock. Let's let him try, hm?"

You look up at him with vision blurred by tears, whining as you balance the sharp edge of pleasure-pain from Johnny's minstrations.

Ghost only smirks, petting you again. "Hang tight, pup. Be a good boy for me, let our other boy have his fun."

You whine, and bury your face next to his cock, trying to breathe evenly as Johnny only drives himself more and more insane inside your cunt.

[redbleedingrose]

Traditions ~ Cassian x Reader

 Summary: You teach Cassian a family tradition 

Warnings: slight angst, infertility, tbh mostly fluff

A/N: OMG 2.7k-ish words later!!! I am so sorry to have kept y’all waiting. I know you asked for an Azriel piece but this one was just stuck in my mind. Anyway, I guess this is the time to thank you all for 1.3k followers! That is huge and totally unexpected. I am forever thankful! Please leave your thoughts in the comments below, I always appreciate your likes, and love your reblogs. Let me know if you want to be added to my general taglist. Enjoy! 

Your mate gaped at you from where he was seated on your large bed, several feet away from your vanity he had built with his brothers as a mating gift when you had finally accepted the bond. It had been nearly an hour since you had emerged from the bath that Cassian had first started after your supper. You had joined him when the water was still piping hot and as the water had gone luke-warm, your needy husband spent the entire bath running his large, calloused hands all over your body, massaging your sorest parts every now and then, and squeezing at your soft flesh in any place he could without earning a smack on his thigh. The warm pot roast with mashed potatoes settled into your stomach with a glass of red wine to follow, had you feeling sated and cozy while you rested against Cass’ chest. Time well spent cooking with the general, who was barely able to keep his hands off you, until you nearly kicked him out of the kitchen, settling for the occasional spank on your ass. 

You calmly moved into the next step of your nighttime routine, circling your aloe cream into your cheeks and under eyes, ignoring your pouting mate who whined in the background, trying to get your attention to pull you away from your seat and into your bed. When you had walked out of your shared bathroom, you wore nothing but a silk robe that ran down to right above your knees, exposing your newly moisturized legs that smelled of his favorite honey and milk lotion. Cassian was feeling almost feral at the sight of you, wanting nothing more than to toss you over any surface so he could have his way with you for hours. Maybe, you wouldn’t be getting the rest you had planned on, and you were okay with that. But, right now? This was your time to relax, to ease into the night, to let the various worries of the day slip out of your mind and into the dark abyss of tomorrow. 

So, he sat. 

He sat on the large bed, with his arms crossed over his chest, huffing and puffing with his jaw hung open as you heated the fresh hyssop oil in your hands, coating it in your palms before running your fingers through your hair. You hummed in contentment, sneaking a glance at your impatient husband, sending him a sneaky, yet, gentle smile before massaging the silky liquid through your scalp all the way down to the roots of your hair. You watched him through the mirror, as you continued to hum, staring at you with his head tilted to the side in curiosity, his pupils blowing out his cinnamon mixed with copper iris’. 

Not once had your dear husband ever asked what it is that you were doing, not once did he ask what your nighttime routine actually was. He never asked why it took so long, he never asked why you had so many steps in the process. He only stared at you in wonder. You weren't exactly sure why Cassian never felt the need to ask, but you had assumed it was because it didn't matter, despite how strange it looked, as long as you were at peace in the end. 

It was simple, really. A tradition that had run in your family for centuries. Oiling your hair that is. Your great grandmother had done it to your grandmother, your grandmother had done it to your mother, and your mother had done it to you. It was a form of love, of devotion, and of doting on someone you love. It always brought memories that felt like balm after a long, difficult day. Your mother used to sing you hymns as she settled you between her knees on the floor, rubbing the oil through her hands to warm it before pressing it into your hair.

 She would run her hands through your hair softly, “it will open up your mind, my sweet little bird,” murmuring to you her love as she would bounce her fingers against your scalp. After she was done, she would press a kiss onto your forehead before braiding your hair and then sending you off to bed. The tips of your fingers played with the ends of your hair that you had weaved into that simple braid, sliding it over your shoulders, and easing back into the soft white chair you were seated in before calling out to your mate, “C’mere my love.” 

He shot out of bed obediently, rushing over to where you were seated, grinning as you spread your legs open, slowly and sensually, till your knees were fully spread apart, exposing your glistening sex. You tilted your head back with a smirk, watching his reaction. The poor male was nearly drooling at the sight of his mate all spread out for him, his pretty eyes sparkling with what could only be described as pure hunger for his mate. “Get on your knees, Cass.” Not a second later, he fell to his knees, right in front of you, growling at your scent that seemed to bleed into the room, his soft hair falling forward over his shoulders as he leaned over to take a huff of your essence. You couldn't help but let a breeze of laughter escape you, resting your foot flat against his shoulder and pushing him back without much force. “Sweetheart,” he started with another growl, reaching up to rest his hand on your ankle, “Not yet, General,” you interrupted with another chuckle, “turn around.” 

“B- But–,” his hungry smirk fell into a forlorn expression that made your smile widen, “Nuh uh Cassie baby, turn around,” you twirled your finger around in a spinning motion, trying to motion for him to turn faster. Your poor mate sighed before following your order, willing to do whatever you wished, even if it meant tasting your cunt later in the night rather than right now, like he so craved doing. He expected you to be playing one of your games, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Even after centuries of being together, you still managed to find ways to surprise him, keeping him on his toes, or rather, his knees, and keeping the spark alive in your relationship. You sent a stroke of love and satisfaction down your vibrating bond, soothing his restless soul as his thumb continued to stroke and press into your outer ankle that was resting on the padded floor next to his hip. 

You lifted the vial, using the dropper to access the oil that you had used only moments prior, humming the same tunes your mother used to when you sat in the same position as Cassian is now. You settled the vial back onto the glass vanity, warming the oil in your hands as you leaned forward towards your mate, pressing a kiss into his temple. His eyes fluttered shut, resting his cheek against your knee before turning his head to drop a swift kiss onto the exposed skin. He lingered for a moment, smiling into you, pulses of an overwhelming sense of adoration and warmth emanated through your bond from him. It was so clear to you how smitten he still was with you, how devoted he was with you, how he still delighted in your presence even if it meant pushing off your most intimate display of affection for whatever it is that you have planned for him. 

He more or less whined as your soft fingers burrowed into his hair, running along his scalp, his head nearly falling back into your lap, reveling in the feeling of you bouncing your fingers into his skin. His jaw fell open further as you gathered even more oil before running it through his silky ink hair, making sure to cover every single strand with it. It glimmered in the soft lighting emitting from the fireplace as you brushed his hair back with your fingers, pulling the tips to the top of his scalp to coat every end. Cassian couldn’t even force his eyes open to watch, his head had begun to lightly pulse at the sensation of his beautiful, wonderful mate playing with his hair. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks with the new conflicts in Illyria sending him and his brothers over the edge with tension and anxiety. His lips lifted of their own accord into an open smile every time he felt you press a sweet kiss into his forehead, smoothing down any residual wrinkles of stress. It was when you pushed his head back up with such ease that he sat back up, thinking you were done with whatever it was that you were doing.

 He found, pleasantly, that he was wrong. 

Your fingers shifted through his hair, pulling it back into what he could've sworn would be a ponytail, but you let his hair go, letting it fall back to his shoulders. He could feel you hesitate, shuffling closer to him and pressing your legs closer into his side. He waited patiently, unsure of what your next step would be, startling slightly when you began whispering as your hands ran up his spine, “Have you ever wondered why I put this oil in my hair, Cass?” Basking in the feeling of you so near, your warmth radiating off you, your scent almost overwhelming, he murmured an agreement, pressing a kiss onto your other exposed knee. You grinned down at your mates euphoric state, a state similar to the ones that only happened after hours of love making, continuing with your mistrations at his shoulders before threading his hair in your warm grasp to form a simple braid. 

Words began slipping out of you like sweetened tea, and Cass listened intently, always wanting to bury every single statement you uttered into his memory so he would never forget, “It’s a tradition that has run through my family for generations. It is said that hyssop oil that is freshly pressed is extremely hydrating to one's hair, and that it helps refresh a person's aura. And so, as tradition goes, my mother would do this for me, warming the oil right in her palm as a form of love, nearly soaking my scalp and hair in it, following that with a simple braid to let it enrich my hair and my aura. And she would sing some hymns to me in the old language while doing so. If there ever were a way to calm me down, it would be this. I guess you could say, it is a way to show your affection to someone.” You rambled softly, hoping that Cassian wouldn’t mind you doing this for him, that he would understand, and that hopefully, he would let you do this again. 

His warm hand was now fully pressing into your ankle, squeezing it thrice every so often, an easy smile lilting his beautiful rugged face while you babbled on, “It’s sweet though, if you think about it, Cass. My grandmother did this to my mother. And my mother did this to me. And maybe one day…” you paused, anxiously looking down at your mate who had finally opened his burnt cinnamon eyes to look up at you like you were a goddess to be worshiped. He squeezed your ankle once again, this time more firmly, stabilizing you before pressing a hard kiss into your plush lower inner thigh to reassure you into continuing. You cleared your throat, pushing down the small, painful lump that had formed, “And maybe one day, I can do it for our future babe, whenever that will be.” 

It had been almost three years of you trying with Cassian to have a babe, and it still hadn’t happened. No matter how many potions Majda had given you, no matter the reassurance Cass and your friends from the inner circle had given you, especially Feyre, it still hurt. It still didn’t make any sense to you as to how it hadn’t happened yet. And you knew. You knew that sometimes, it could take decades for fae, even longer for Illyrians. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. That didn’t mean it was any less difficult. You and Cassian had both hoped that it would happen relatively quickly, given how quickly Feyre had gotten pregnant with Nyx. But that didn’t seem to be how it worked out for you both. 

And it was hard. 

It was painful. 

You had spent nights crying yourself to sleep over it not happening. Every month, when your cycle would come, it felt like another stab to your already bleeding heart. You couldn’t help but feel as though you had failed. Failed at reproducing. Failed at being a female. Failed at being a mate. 

But Cass never let you feel that way for long. His constant reassurance and strength had been the only thing in recent months that had been helping you push through this period of difficulty in your life. He was the perfect male, the perfect husband, the perfect mate really. Not even for a second did he blame you for your troubles with infertility. Not for a second did he make you feel incapable. He was truly your rock against the crashing waves that kept you standing. 

And you loved him for it.

And he loved you for it. He always would.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Cassian was now turned towards you, sitting up on his knees and staring at you in concern, his calloused hands resting on your cheeks, stroking away the stray tears that had slipped out. You sniffled, trying to smile at your mate as you snuggled into his palm, raising up your own hand to rest against his, “your braid will slip open my love, turn around so I can tie it.” He started to shake his head, “Sweetheart– ,” you hummed, not letting him finish what he had planned to say, patting at his broad shoulders with a small grin rising on your face, “C’mon Cassie, quickly.” 

His iris shifted between yours, looking for any signs of remaining sadness that had seemed to slip out of you as quickly as it had come. And when he found none, he nodded slowly, pecking your lips before turning silently and resting his ass against his shins. You remove the hair tie that has been wrapped around your wrist, gently tying off his braid before running a finger down the length of it. He catches your wrist, pulling it around his body towards his front and planting kisses right along the inner portion, resting it on his chest to where you can feel his heart beating at your fingertips. You blushed at the sensation, the pulses of love he sends down your already buzzing mating bond provide a source of comfort that you could not begin to describe. 

“I love you, sweetheart, so much,” his voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear, “and we will have a beautiful little babe that you can do this with.” He shifted, hooking his arm under your thigh and swiftly pulling you out of your chair and into his lap. You landed in his embrace with a yelp, his arms pulled you further into his hold allowing him the access to peck your flushed cheeks, the tip of your nose, the edge of your jawline, the base of your forehead, and finally, your lips. His kiss sent tingles from your lips down to your heart which morphed into butterflies that exploded in your soft tummy. Cassian held you there, moving his lips in gentle succession until a smile formed against your lips. He ended the kiss with another soft peck, “But until then, you can continue your traditions with me. All that affection and love you are saving for our future babe, you can give some for me to hold onto until the mother blesses us. What do you think?” A huff of a breath escapes you in a barely formed laugh, your smile too large for you to contain as you lean up to kiss your husband again, nodding once while watching his own smile widen, right before returning your lips against his.

General taglist: @nyotamalfoy @brekkershadowsinger @kennedy-brooke @fieldofdaisiies 

Masterlist

[engeorged]

In Good Hands?

Author's note: This is my attempt to write a ghost story, inspired by some of the amazing artwork out there featuring ghost hands. Also, I can't find a way to naturally explain what Yann looks like in the story, but as I'm writing to him, I'm picturing him as something akin to John Krasinski. Very tall and unconventionally handsome but with a killer bod underneath his scruffy clothes. Hope that helps?

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Day One

As part of my dissertation on paranormal activity in domestic properties I’ve searched the internet and found the most haunted airbnb that I could find. This is my diary to document my experiences whilst I live here for 3 months. It might be helpful at this stage to list some of the reported sightings that I have come across so far. Then that might give us some helpful data, post study 

1) Several reports of items moved around the house. Mostly furniture and food items found in unusual places

2) Numerous accounts of noises and banging, often around meal times

3) Sightings of ‘ghost hands’ in several places on the property. These are mainly visual sightings with a few vague physical encounters. Interestingly all the people who encountered the hands touching them didn’t want to elaborate. 

4) One person reported feeling uncomfortable when undressing, as if they were being watched

An unusual observation is that so far, all witnesses are male. Normally, the majority of spectral anomalies that are reported are from female witnesses so this is something to ponder as we go forward.

I have set up my equipment around the house with several cameras and heat detectors. I will endeavour to report on a daily basis

Day Two 

Nothing so far. I did wake up in the night to a banging but then discovered a cat had gotten into the property and wanted letting out.

Day Three. 

Again, no actual sightings and no recorded 'feelings' around the house. There have been none of the sensors going off and no recordings on the equipment. The only unusual thing so far was two pizza deliveries to the house that I didn’t actually order. I expect that to be the neighbourhood kids having a laugh. They were paid for though?

Day Four

I’m not sure how to report this but in the spirit of scientific advancement I will forgo my own embarrassment. 

After eating two large pizzas yesterday I woke up in the night needing to go to the bathroom to relieve myself. Stumbling through the house naked in the dark I found the toilet and proceeded to use the facility. The light wasn’t working and so I used the light on my phone to find the paper. I was a little sleepy and disoriented but in hindsight I think someone, or something, handed me the paper. It wasn’t hanging on the wall  anyway and I think it was actually held out for me. I didn’t really notice this at the time but as I was wiping myself clean I stood up to flush and felt a hand grab my left ass cheek and squeeze it firmly. 

I’m not ashamed to say that I ran pretty quickly from the bathroom. It wasn’t till I got to my room that I thought to check the cameras. I was now fully awake and checked everything but with no luck. The camera facing the bathroom was also powered down. I think I need to get the batteries checked. 

Once I calmed down I recorded my findings and headed back to sleep. A promising start

Day Five

It's been an interesting day. Pizzas have been arriving pretty much every hour alongside grocery orders. None of which I’m ordering. I’m starting to wonder whether they are more than just pranks. There is a phone in the house and when I pressed the redial button it connected me to the same pizza place. They were pretty busy and refused to give out order details for data protection purposes, but they guy did ask if I was having some sort of party. 

I’ve been grazing on the pizzas all day. (An important piece of data for later) It was later on in the evening when I was setting up some more equipment and I hadn’t quite realised how much pizza I’d eaten until I felt my belt digging into my lower belly. I’m pretty naturally toned and so it was noticeable. (I’m recording this factually for the study but please understand that’s not a brag)

As I stood up I realised how bloated my stomach was and so I stretched and went to take my belt off. When my hand went to my belt it brushed past another hand also holding my belt. I slowly moved my hands away and looked down. A fairly large male hand was resting on the belt buckle. As I watched, it undid the buckle for me and slid the belt out of the loops and landed on the floor. The hand reached back round, undid my button and then moved up to my lower abdomen where it rested on my belly for a few seconds before dissipating into the air. I physically felt the hand on my skin and it was cool but felt very corporeal.

No more encounters that day.

Day Six

Despite my efforts I have had no more encounters today and no more pizza orders. 

Day Seven

For the sake of the research I endeavoured to repeat day five’s conditions. I had stashed the pizza in the fridge and so tried to eat the same amount I ate on that day. The results were the same and my stomach was yet again visibly distended. I waited for a while in the same room with my belt dowe up and no further encounters. After an hour I decided to call it a night and head off to bed. I was a little surprised to find several pizza boxes in my bed when I got there. There was no sign of the hand and I hadn’t heard any movement. I placed the pizza on the floor and got ready for bed. Still no sightings. I set up an extra camera to track any activity and turned the lights off. Almost immediately I felt rapid movement in the bed and turned the light back on to find all the pizza boxes back on my bed. 

I moved them back to the floor and turned the lights off and yet again they arrived back in my bed. This repeated four more times until the final time when not only did the pizza end up in my bed but one slice found its way into my mouth. I turned the lights back on and found the hand resting on the pizza slice. I took a bite and began to swallow. The hand then waited patiently for me to chew and swallow and then proceeded to feed me the rest of the slice. It paused briefly in the air before yet again dissipating. 

I am left wondering if this apparition is trying to feed me up? I felt no malice towards me and no sense of anger or unrest. Perhaps I need to allow it to do what it wants and see where we get?

Day Eight

Throughout the day, the hand appeared to me several times. Usually during meal times and when I have been in any state of undress. It made no attempt to feed me but did bring me sauces and a few times put additional food on my plate. The hand has not shown up on the cameras but you can definitely see the objects it’s moving. I’m not sure if that will be enough proof though as it does look like I’ve edited it myself. One thing of note is that It tried to help me clean myself in the shower and if I’m being completely objective it actually just sort of felt me up. It was as if it was pretending to help but in actual fact was touching my ass and stomach area. Its touch was gentle but inquisitive? I felt as though I was being explored by something benevolent. 

Day Nine

More of the same today. The hand is getting bolder. Touching me more and bringing me more food throughout the day. I’ve been eating as much of it as I can to appease it but honestly it’s a lot of food. I’m struggling to eat it all. After dinner I was pretty much maxed out and crashed on a sofa. I left my belt to see if the hand would undo it for me and lo and behold it did. This time after undoing my belt and top button it slid up my shirt underneath and began to massage my belly for me. I have to say, for the record, that it was actually very pleasant. I can usually eat a lot but I’d lost track of how much I’d had that day and my normally flat stomach had quite a curve to it. The massage lasted for a good 20 mins and I think I had actually nodded off. 

I awoke with a start to find the hand was joined by a second. The left hand, also male. I wasn’t surprised to see both of them had food. I opened my mouth to see what would happen and the sandwich the right hand was holding was pushed in straight away. It was a little firmer than last time and more insistent but I obediently chewed and swallowed. I think the massage actually helped and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I was a little hungry!

The left hand brought me a hotdog and began alternating offerings. Not long after, both the sandwich, and hotdog were gone. I waited to see what would happen next. The right hand continued to rub my distended stomach and the left hand appeared with a large pitcher of beer. I would guess maybe four pints worth. I was a little taken aback but the jug lurched towards me and pressed to my lips. I didn’t really have a choice but to swallow as the liquid began to flow. I kept swallowing whilst the other hand continued to massage my expanding stomach. I settled into a pace with no let up from the hand pouring the beer. I was beginning to feel totally maxed again as the foamy beer kept coming. I tried to move the hand but it wasn’t budging. I had no choice but to swallow until the beer was gone. The pitcher fell to the floor and the second hand joined its twin in massaging my bloated stomach. They had at this point pulled my shirt up revealing my distended gut. They were firm but gentle and I can’t lie, it felt really good. As I lay there I couldn’t help but feel safe. Like I was in good hands (if you’ll pardon the pun)

The attention lasted for a good half hour and again, in the interests of recording all the detail, I think they actually got rid of all my gas. The beer and food combo made me belch a lot and the hands seemed to be getting them up. Even giving my stomach a little tap after a good burp. And then just like that they were gone. Leaving me like a beached tourist after a buffet.

I have several questions around the intentions of the hands and why they are so set on feeding me? Is this something that others have experienced? There was no mention of this in the reports I have. Maybe I should contact some of the people who have stayed here and ask some specific questions. I’ll have to word them carefully?

I will have to do this in the morning as I can’t quite think straight whilst I’m this full. 

Day Ten

After the events of the previous evening I slept in until midday. I wasn’t disturbed in the night but I awoke to the smell of coffee and pastries. Heading downstairs I discovered a set table with the hands poised on the back of the chair. After sitting down I attempted to eat the offering but the right hand gently held me back whilst the left proceeded to feed me the croissants. I didn’t think I could be hungry after last night but I managed to eat everything I was given. The hands then disappeared. 

Throughout the day at regular intervals they would appear and continue where they left off. A brunch of poached eggs and avocado, lunchtime sandwiches. Afternoon tea and a main meal of steak and chips. The meals they present are hearty and as the day wore on I struggled more and more with the portions. The hands remain gentle yet firm, I haven’t resisted them yet but I’m not sure what would happen if I did. For now I will oblige as what I am recording is unprecedented in this field. I am yet to capture them on film but I am seeing interesting readings in the infrared spectrum. I need to keep tweaking but I wonder if this data will help me modify a camera to get some footage. 

Heading to bed I half expected more food but as I lay on my bed, my distended belly loudly digesting my feast, the hands appeared one final time to explore my body. The previous encounters had been purely massages of my abdomen or a cheeky squeeze of my ass, but this time the hands started there but quickly covered the rest of my body over. I’m not sure if they are turning into a sexual encounter or not. They have not touched any private areas but the intention of the massage definitely felt more intrusive. I have to admit that I was beginning to feel quite aroused during the whole experience. 

Day Eleven

More of the same today. The hands fed me an even larger breakfast of pancakes, brunch, lunch and two afternoon meals. I wasn’t sure my stomach could take any more when I discovered my evening meal. I walked into the kitchen to find the dining table was filled with what looked like a meal for four! A whole roast chicken dinner was laid out on the table with all the trimmings. I felt a little sick just looking at it. My gut was still packed full from the whole day's feeding sessions. I hesitated at the door, wondering what to do when the hands appeared behind me and gently pushed me forward toward the banquet. They weren’t aggressive but I definitely didn’t have a choice but to move. When I reached the chair the hands pushed down on my shoulders and indicated to me to sit. They set about unbuttoning my shirt and removing my belt, which I allowed. The left hand began to massage my stomach, which I also allowed. (They are very good at massaging my stomach when it feels super stuffed and full). I decided to resist slightly to see what would happen. I spoke to the hands to tell them politely that I wasn’t really hungry this evening after all the food they had already given me. This didn’t deter them in any way as the right hand pulled off a chicken leg and brought it to my mouth. I shook my head and politely declined. The leg stayed in front of my face. We waited for a little while in a bit of a standoff. It was even more unexpected then, that the left hand then reached round to my side and began tickling me. It was so out of the blue that I opened my mouth to laugh out loud. At that point the chicken leg made it straight into my mouth. I bit off a mouthful and laughed, I submitted to their feeding yet again. This time the hands were much more persistent and felt even more attentive. As I ate, they paused to give more belly rubs, and would move me when I slouched or needed to belch. At one point they even tipped my forward and rubbed my back to help me belch which also made me laugh. 

I was so busy trying to keep track of what they were doing that I didn’t notice I had eaten the whole meal. The moment of realisation was as I saw the hands withdraw and I saw all the plates were empty. I looked down at my stomach and saw how distended I was. It was as if I had swallowed half a basketball. In fact that’s inaccurate. It felt more like half a bowling ball. 

The hands seemed very happy with what they had accomplished and did a small clap as I tentatively gave my own stomach a quick explore. The fullness at that point hit me and I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I tried to stand up but they stopped me. I began to protest but soon found my mouth full with beer. The pitcher from the previous evening had been brought back out and they were pouring it down my throat. I had no choice but to swallow or choke but the pressure of the beer in my stomach was increasingly difficult to handle. I tried to push it out of the way but the hands kept on pouring. As the pitcher was finished I coughed and sputtered and pushed one more time and the now empty glass jug flew across the room and shattered against the wall. The hands immediately began to make me stand and I began to worry that they were angry but I was yet to feel that from them. They helped me get to my room and almost laid me down on the bed. 

As I lay there they began to undress me. Pulling my trousers down and taking my already open shirt off my back. I lay there bloated and aching only in my underwear and socks. The hands began again exploring my tightly packed abdomen. Tracing the curve of its distended rise and gently massaging some of the aches out. I closed my eyes and let them continue. At some point I must have drifted off to sleep but when I awoke the following morning I was in the same position but totally naked. My stomach had gone down some from the previous evening but I was still pretty distended. 

From a scientific viewpoint I am incredibly excited about the results I’m getting. An encounter like this has never been fully documented. I feel like Davies exploring the Antarctic for the first time. This will be groundbreaking research into the paranormal and may even get me a full residential post. 

But from a human perspective I am totally baffled as to what is happening. Ghost hands have taken a shine to me and are regularly and consistently stuffing me full of food and giving me sensual massages. What the actual fuck is going on. And I’m being totally honest with myself, they are actually starting to feel really good? I'm finding myself looking forward to encounters with the hands. I sense they are intrigued by me and that they are also enjoying this as much as I am. There seems no mal-intent and nothing malignant about what’s happening. From a purely detached perspective, I need to understand if my feelings are mine or if the hands have some sort of supernatural ability to manipulate my emotions. I have to admit, it all feels very real though. 

Day Fifteen

As I write this, I’m finding it incredibly hard to sit upright, I'm so full. After the enjoyable but intense feeding session on day eleven I have been subjected to something a little more intriguing and a little more sinister. 

The hands didn’t really bother me at all for the whole day on day eleven. The occasional appearance where they would just touch me but no food and nothing sustained. I was beginning to wonder if they were done with me. As dusk approached I was busy setting up some equipment in the kitchen, as I was starting to wonder where the food was coming from and I wanted to see if they were actually cooking it themselves when the light all went off suddenly. I found my phone and turned on the torch and tried to find my way to the  fuse box. As I stumbled in the darkness down into the cellar I felt the now familiar hands on the base of my back, guiding me down. They clearly wanted me to go somewhere and they were pushing me a little harder than I was expecting.

When I reached the cellar I found lights already on. The fuses obviously hadn’t blown, but the hands had done something else. I could smell food in the air and instantly felt my saliva glands begin to water. As I turned the corner I saw they had set a lazy-boy in the middle of the floor and there were two tables full of food laid out. And when I say full of food I mean a full banquet for a few dozen people. A whole thanksgiving meal was laid out including a whole turkey and hams and pies aplenty. I felt strangely worried and also very hungry. Guided by the hands I sat in the chair and waited to see what would happen. I suddenly remembered that I had not set up cameras there yet and went to stand to go get some, but the hands came thumping down on my shoulders, forcing me to sit. They were not keen on me leaving. This also didn’t feel as playful as before and I felt a little nervous that there was no way I would be able to eat all this food? (How wrong I was)

The hands began removing my t-shirt, which was something they had done before. Unbuckling my belt was next as they pulled my trousers off, folding them neatly and placing them amusingly to the side. They began to explore my body gently but firmly. As they did so I began to see that I’d put on a little timber in the past few weeks. My normally flat stomach was a little more puffy than usual. It had been blown out and bloated for a few days and it was only now that I hadn't eaten for a few hours that I could see its newly acquired pounds. The hands had definitely noticed as they both mainly stayed around that area, clearly enjoying themselves.

I lay there (enjoying the attention if I’m honest) until abruptly they stopped and I felt the hands lifting up my arms above my head. This was new and I should probably have been more suspicious of this than I was. I wasn’t aware of what they were doing until I heard a click and looked up to see they had placed handcuffs on my wrists which were attached to a rope tied to the ceiling. As I struggled to free myself, I heard two more clicks as my ankles were also cuffed to the bottom of the lazy boy. I wasn’t stretched out but there was no way I was going anywhere and that’s when the food started coming and let me tell you it did not stop.

I completely lost track of time down there, suffice to say the hands were determined to get every last mouthful of food into me. They would take it in turns pushing fistfuls of pie and meat and roasted vegetables into my mouth. I wouldn’t say they were increasingly aggressive, but they were very insistent. At the beginning, I would be given a bite of something and allowed to chew and swallow but the next bite would come straight away. The pressure in my stomach would increase and increase until I thought I would burst and then they would pause, returning to the belly rubs and massages. I would eventually fall asleep only to be woken a few hours later for the next round of feeding. More and more food pushed into my mouth until I couldn't take any more. This pattern continued for what I now know was 3 days. That’s how long it took me to eat the whole banquet. And I tell you that every last mouthful was fed to me. Not a crumb was wasted. 

I am now fully aware that I was under some sort of supernatural influence here. My stomach is way bigger than humanly possible. It's gone from a basketball size when full to to a pregnant looking beer gut. Perfectly round and tight and engorged. There is no physical way a person would be able to eat the amount of food they have packed in me, even at the rate they fed me over the past few days. Also, at no point did I attempt to spit the food out or refuse, I simply gave in and let them stuff me. 

I will at some point try to document exactly what I ate and how it happened but for now this is all I can manage. If I think of how much food is currently inside me I begin to feel quite nauseous. If I can manage to get to my feet, my belly now starts straight under my ribs and sticks out at least a foot before curving underneath my belly button and tapering in at my v line. It's as tight as a drum and warm to the touch and as I breathe only my chest goes in and out. I don't think I have ever seen anything like this.

In addition, I should note that the massages became a lot more personal in nature. Again for science I admit that as my stomach was filled, so too were other parts of my anatomy. A state of arousal which the hands most definitely noticed. As they massaged my food baby they also began to massage other engorged parts of my body. To climax. Being totally frank, these have been the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced in my life. The climax started as normal but as it built it spread up the bottom of my distended stomach giving me a whole body experience like nothing I have experienced. It seems that a supernaturally full abdomen is capable of a belly wide orgasm. I need to ask one of my female friends if that’s what a female orgasm feels like. 

I am beginning to feel like I need to leave the house at this point. The experiment has already brought me a huge amount of data and I’m worried if I stay I will end up even larger. I am worried to think what they are going to try and pack in me next. I should have weighed myself before the past experience but alas I only have my memory of my weight beforehand. I can’t imagine how my body will digest this amount of food and what will happen to my already bloated stomach after the next day or so. 

As I wrote that last sentence the hands have come back. They are currently resting on my belly shelf and I feel they are pretty pleased with themselves. I’m going to see what happens next but for now I’m turning off my laptop. 

Find the rest of my stories here

[jayswritings13]

Total Drama: Alejandro Relationship Headcanons

Request: "Can I request dating headcanons with Alejandro?" by @ali-simpp

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

Alejandro is hard to get to know at first.

Yeah, he's friendly-ish and charming when it comes to small talk and general conversation.

But, anything deeper than that is like pulling teeth.

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?!"

"Because I'm dating you and I'd like to know about your childhood."

Once Alejandro feels as though he can fully trust you with personal information, he is much more open and shares things before you even ask.

THE NICK NAMES!

Sometimes, it seems like he doesn't remember your actual name.

"Some breakfast, mi amor(my love)?"

"Corazón(sweetheart)?! Are you okay?"

"You look radiant, mi alma gemela(my soulmate)."

In fact, Alejandro shows a lot of his affection through words of affirmation and physical touch.

If you ever move from his touch or physical affection(even without meaning to), he will be offended and he will make a big deal of it.

"...not a big fucking deal." You laughed, tossing your keys on the table and shrugging your jacket off.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?!" Alejandro stormed in after you. "You basically deflected every advance and touch I did tonight!!"

"I know!" You sighed, "I didn't mean to, but after you grabbed my ass."

"That's never stopped you before."

"It was a work party, Alejandro!"

"Ptff, no one was there."

"Which meant that those there definitely saw."

Alejandro is a huge romantic and goes all out for any occasion.

This is especially true for date nights.

Fancy dinners and reservations at the best restaurants.

Secluded starlight pinics with homemade food all prepared and made by him

Well, mostly. A little help from DJ and his mama was needed.

Nights in with drinks and dancing.

Alejandro knows this too, which makes it you life mission to out romance him at any given chance.

Fancy dinners are topped by a surprise birthday party.

Starlit pinics replaced with night swimming and museum visits

Dancing and drinking replaced with spa day and letting someone else do Alejandro's crazy skin routine instead of doing it himself.

It doesn't happen often that you outdo Alejandro, but when it does, that happy and loved look on his face is priceless.

Alejandro will try to teach you spanish if you do not know it.

"¿Qué te gustaría comer?(What would you like to eat?)"

"Uh.... "

"You got this. What did I ask?"

"Where I want to......"

"Yes. Almost there."

".....go out??"

"Close."

Thankfully, he is patient in teaching you.

Though, if you do know Spanish, he is thrilled to speak Spanish primarily with you instead of English, especially since he's much more comfortable with Spanish.

Alejandro does not like to talk about Total Drama or his time on the show.

If you and Alejandro met through Total Drama, then he will sometimes talk about the show here and there.

Also, if he met you through the show, he is and will always be grateful for that.

If you met him outside of the show, you would have never known that he had been on a reality tv show, except for actually watching him that is.

He does not talk about it often, it ever.

Though, you now know that is because of the severe post-traumatic stress that he has experienced while on the show.

The dangerous challenges, disgusting food, and getting injured while in Hawaii.

"You don't have to talk about it any more if it hurts too much." You said, tightening your grip on Alejandro's hand.

Alejandro doesn't say anything, but the look of relief on his face says it all.

"Soy tan afortunado de tenerte en mi vida (I am so lucky to have you in my life)."

"I am too."

[seventeenytiny]

I have a request for skz if you don't mind,

what types of doms do you think would skz be?

I feel with 2min they will surely be mean doms with their soft moments here and there's, and chanbin the soft doms

Here are some of my thoughts regarding that topic!

Contains - Smut, Minors do not Interact, BDSM topics such as bondage, pet play, cum play, toys ect.

Bang Chan - Hard Dom with lots of Soft Moments 

I’d say Chan is a hard dom but with lots of soft moments. He’s the type to throw you around and slap your ass until it’s red but once he sees your tears falling he’ll slow down to kiss away the pain. It doesn’t matter if you tell him you enjoy the pain and don’t want him to stop, he still needs to take breaks to make sure you know how precious you are to him. He has the most amazing aftercare too, he’ll kiss every bruise and mark on your body before helping you clean up and then pulling you back to bed for cuddles.

Lee Know - Hard Mean Dom 

Minho is also a hard dom but definitely the meanest of the bunch. He’ll have you blindfolded as well just to make every touch to your body more intense. If you slip up and call him by his real name and not Sir, that deserves punishment. He loves to slap your ass, watching it bounce with every hit, turning as red as the blush on your cheeks. He also loves to participate in orgasm denial. He’ll have you so sensitive, a vibrator pressed hard against your clit as he nips at your neck, always pulling the toy away right before you can cum. Don’t worry though, he always gives his baby what they want in the end. He’ll run a nice warm bath for you two to relax in afterward to help soothe your poor muscles. 

Changbin - Soft Dom

Softy, doesn’t really want to hurt you, he’ll show off his strength in other ways. He likes to pick you up and toss you around, pin you under his body, and hold your arms above your head. His grip on you is always firm but never painful. He’s a very nurturing partner, he loves to praise his partner as he ruts into them. Sex with him is hardly ever just sex, it’s making love. His sweet words always help bring you to your high, he always reassures you how great you are. Although, if you are acting particularly bratty one day he will scold you. After he finishes in you he loves to just stay inside for a bit and hold you, he hates letting you go.

Hyunjin - Soft Dom

He’s more of a romantic guy and likes sex to be special and loving, but he does have a more adventurous side. Occasionally, he’ll pull out his ropes and tie you up. He’s actually quite educated in tying you, he has several different ways he loves to have you tied, sometimes it’s just your hands behind your back, other times it’s your hands and feet to the bed, and sometimes the rope is expertly tied around your whole body. If he’s feeling extra horny he will put a ball gag in your mouth as well, watching drool cover your face as you try to wipe it away but are unable to due to the rope. His touches to your body are always soft, he would never want to hurt you, he only wants to make you feel good. I wish I could say his aftercare is good but I have a feeling he’s the type to pass out immediately after sex, he doesn’t mean to, you just make him feel so damn good it puts him to sleep.

Han - Switches between Hard and Soft 

Jisung goes back and forth between being a hard and soft dom, it really depends on his mood. He secretly loves it when you act like a brat so he can tame you. If you two are hanging out and you start getting sassy he’ll drag you to the nearest semi-private place just to teach you a lesson. He’ll smack your ass and then push you to your knees and shove his cock in your mouth. He’ll fuck your mouth hard, his hands pushing the back of your head so you take him in deeper. If you are at home he loves to pull out last minute and finish on your face. Other times he can be a bit softer and just wants to show you how much he appreciates your body. He will kiss you from head to toe, and then massage your shoulders after the two of you finish.

Felix - Soft Dom with Mean Moments

Another soft boy, but he does have his mean moments. He loves to edge you and participate in orgasm denial. I have a feeling that Felix is the type to have quite an extensive toy collection. One of his favorites to use on you is an insertable vibrator, he loves to shove it into your pussy and watch you squirm. He’ll take one of your tits into his mouth and lick and pull at your sensitive nipples until you have tears pricking your eyes. Right before you can cum he’ll stop and pull out the toy. He’ll replace the vibrator with his cock, slamming into you and giving you little time to adjust. He does take little moments to slow down and look into your eyes for any signs of discomfort before kissing your face. Big cuddler after sex, and also likes to order some food for you two to snack on afterward.

Seungmin - Hard Dom

Hard Dom, really into the idea of ownership. He even got you a custom collar with your name on it for you to wear during sex. He loves to boss you around and would have some kind of pet name for you. He can also be pretty spontaneous, like you two could just be chilling on the couch and he’ll tell you to get on the floor and suck his cock. You of course oblige, always happy to please your master. He praises you well when you do what he asks of you, he also always rewards you. After you swallow his load he’ll pick you up off the ground and carry you to the bedroom, ripping your pants off after he tosses you into the sheets. He loves to eat you out to reward you, your pussy is one of his favorite things to taste in the whole world. I have a feeling he likes to take a shower with you after sex, holding you in his arms under the warm water as he kisses your neck.

I.N - Hard Dom 

Our last hard dom, he’s very into being in charge and making sure you know that. You have to call him Sir or Daddy or else there will be a problem. You also must ask him for permission to do anything, “Daddy will you please let me suck your cock?” “I think you deserve it baby girl.” If you do anything without asking he will pull you over his lap and spank you. He’ll ask you how many smacks you think you deserve and if he disagrees with that number he’ll double it. He’ll always rub your ass after your punishment is over, just to help take away some of the sting, he still cares for his partner very much and wants to make sure they can feel how much he loves them. He loves to fuck you hard and then pull out at the last minute to cum on your bright red ass too. He turns very sweet when it’s time for aftercare, kissing your nose and holding you tight, rubbing any spots on your body that might be sore.

[sidekick-hero]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Kei, my friend, thank you so much for the chance to rec some of my own fics 💜 This has been waiting in my inbox for forever but I have a very limited spoon supply right now 😅

Because I've got several of these lovely asks, I'll give you my favorite 5 sexy fics 😘

Louder (explicit | 2k) - my first steddie fic!

While laying in bed, the two of them can't help but overhear their upstairs neighbors going at it rather loudly. Eddie turns to Steve after a while, and asks, You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?

we pass the ghosts that haunt us later (explicit | 3.8k) - very different from my usual stuff

warnings: ambiguous ending (there is a sequel with a happy ending though), cheating (Steve cheats with Eddie on a partner)

It's impossible to quit Eddie Munson. Not that Steve didn't try - he's always leaving. It's just that he's always coming back.

wear me like a locket around your throat (explicit | 4.5k) - possessive!Steve and Eddie in a collar

Written with my dear @yournowheregirl 💜

There's a long silence in which they both stare at each other, unsure of what to say. Or maybe they know exactly what to say next, what to do next, they're just not sure who's going to be the one to actually bring it up. Eddie is the first to break the silence, he always is. "You want me to put it on for you?" Steve feels his dick twitch at the question, the for you ringing in his ears at the same time the mine, mine, mine mantra comes back with a vengeance. "Please."

we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined (explicit | 3.4k) - sexual healing anyone?

It's not that either of them has to wine and dine the other, theirs is not that kind of relationship. But they’re still friends. Friends who like to fuck each other's brains out, but friends nonetheless. Still, they usually take their time. Heavy make out sessions, mouths and hands on each other's bodies. Eddie fingering Steve for so long that he was coming dry by the time Eddie finally fucks him, his hole so loose and sloppy with lube that Eddie's cock sinks in like a knife in warm butter. When it's quick and desperate, it’s usually trading messy hand- or blow jobs, both of them too impatient for any kind of foreplay. Just quick and dirty hookups in the video store break room or in the shower before they have to start their day. But today, Eddie needs it hard and fast. Today, Eddie needs Steve to fuck every thought out of his head until all he can think about is the ache in his body from being used, from being owned, from being ruined. He needs it to hurt. Today, Eddie needs to forget.

You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some) (explicit | 6.4k) - confident, cocky and kind of slutty Steve was so much fun to write

And so begins the longest ten minutes of Eddie Munson's life. He's standing there, the sun beating down on them, but he's sweating for a completely different reason as he watches Steve contort himself to reach every last inch of his precious BMW. His shorts are riding dangerously high, just barely revealing the curve of his round ass more than once. There are moles all over his skin, like constellations waiting to be explored by adventurous hands and lips. The hair on his legs looks soft, so light it's almost blonde, and Eddie wants to run his fingers over it, scratch the creamy white skin of his inner thighs and leave his mark on that perfect body.

[yuurivoice]

Not to tell you how to do your job or anything, and I don't think it's the audience's place to give suggestions when this is YOUR profession, it's just a small idea that occured to me.

But maybe in the upcoming Auron audio you could add a little note on the screen saying that new Auron content is coming soon, and then like do the same with future compilation videos, since they tend to do so well!! Like to let people know that if they like the characters, this is not where the story ends at all and they should stick around. I say this mainly cause I remember you once talked about how the major numbers on the Finn compilation didn't translate to a major increase in subscribers. Really hope this didn't come off as rude, I just think maybe if people think the compilations are the ENTIRE story it might not occur to them to subscribe!

It also might yield no results at all, idk. I just remember I didn't subscribe until multipleeee videos had been recommended to me over MONTHS, mainly because I had no idea that there was a story to be followed.

I've written like three different responses to this but as I yap on I get new conclusions and ideas. This is v3 of my answer lmfao.

Preface: People don't pay attention to shit and unless you are clever or use a hammer, they do not care. They want the content. ESPECIALLY if they aren't familiar with you. This makes any deliberate Calls to Action run the risk of annoyance rather than making a meaningful impact on conversions.

Bonus note: If a video is scheduled to premiere, there's nothing I can add to it at this point without doing a whole reupload, giving Thoo a bunch of extra work, and all that shit. So that wasn't ever an option anyway.

My approach in this current iteration of how I do things is that rather than slob on somebody's knob begging for a sub, they're encouraged to either watch more videos or go to the homepage. My working hypothesis is that you're actually MORE likely to get a curious viewer to drop by your homepage before they subscribe, because they want to see what else is available.

The most recent changes I made to the channel homepage should make it abundantly clear that there are multiple stories, characters, and styles of content to jump into. Making sure that the homepage is great has probably made a massive difference in that regard, without impacting the videos themselves.

Playlists are horribly underutilized in this niche in particular, and on lots of YouTube channels really. So I made sure to try and nail that down. Still need to get the channel trailer locked in but tbh I don't know how effective those really are in 2024.

All of that being said, a ~15 second welcome intro at the start that explains what the compilation is and invites viewers to sub/explore the playlists would probably be the easiest way to accomplish that without intruding on the listening/viewing experience in a way that feels desperate or pander-y. That in conjunction with the end screen prompt would probably be the easiest way to do it.

I don't feel like that immediately turns massive hit videos into untapped wells of subscribers that I missed out on, it could help contextualize things a little more and who knows, maybe it WOULD be a big deal. Hard to say!

The context for me not immediately being like OH IT'S A SLAM DUNK HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THIS is because I run a very lucrative business converting viewers to patrons and I have very minimal in-video notes about hearing the spicy bits on Patreon. People often figure things out for themselves if they're motivated enough, and you run the risk of chasing them off if you come across like a desperate ass hoe. lmfao

I appreciate the ask, but also can assure you that I've spent several hours mulling over these very specific issues and I've considered just about every angle. If I had included every little detail and wrinkle of information I was cooking up in the various iterations of this answer it would be a mile long. So trust me. I've thought about it in great detail, have worked with people on it, workshopped things and much more!

Y'all got me yappin' up a storm on here lately. lmfao

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Here is my late entry for the Valentine's fic exchange. It is my first attempt at player/player HRPF. @deformed-globule, I hope you like it.

I also apologize that it got long. Actually, i should he sorry, but I am not.

Summary- My best guess to answer the question that has been haunting hockeylbr since the All-Star game. How and why was Sidney Crosby wearing Nate Mackinnon's hoodie during his post-game interview?

@pattiemac1 @penstxgal1968 @angry-geno-is-score @newlibrary @cellythefloshie @hockeyficexchange

Wednesday- January 31st- Nate MacKinnon’s hotel room

Nate watched as Cale Makar stood at the door and looked out into the hall. Cale looked back and forth several times to ensure that the hallway was clear before turning back to Nate. “So…. uhhhh…. I guess I will see you at breakfast? Maybe we can have round two before the Skills Competition,” the soft spoken defenseman said.

“I’m not sure,” Nate yawned as he wrapped the towel around his nude body. He had just started the shower and was anxious to get his latest conquest out of his room as quickly as possible. He was fully anticipating a video call from Sid, especially once the photo Nate had sent to him was opened.

“Oh, okay,” Cale replied, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry Kid,” Nate grimaced slightly, “I won’t leave you hanging.”

With that, Cale smiled and rushed down the hall towards his room. He had a naive fear of being caught doing the “walk of shame” down the hall. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost ran into Leon Draisaitl walking towards his room. Smiling at the near collision, it dawned on him that Leon was walking from the direction of Matthew Tkachuk’s room. The term “walk of shame” took on an entirely different tone during the ASG and Cale pondered just how many of his fellow All Stars would be taking the same walk during the next three days.

Inside Nate’s room, Nate stared at his phone. The message containing his nude selfie with Cale’s bare ass in the background had been seen by Sidney, but there was no response. After another fifteen minutes, Nate contemplated sending another message to provoke a response. It was a move that made him feel needy, but dammit, he NEEDED to know Sid’s response to the picture. Finally, the young buck couldn’t take the suspense any longer. He FaceTimed Sid who picked up while reclining on his hotel bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

Nate: Hey Sid

Sidney: Nate

Nate bit his lip before speaking: So, did you see the draft?

Sidney: No, I was busy. I saw the line-up though. Not bad.

Nate felt the flame of anger light in his gut. Not only had Sid not told him that he wouldn’t be at the draft, but he didn’t even have time to watch it. Nate had been selected as a team captain, after all, and he made sure to draft Sid as his first pick.

Nate spit out: Not bad? So not bad but not good? Well, maybe if I hadn’t been thrown off by you being represented by a damn toddler, I would have been more focused

Sidney yawned: Don’t overthink it Nate. It doesn’t really matter what team you end up on during the All Star game. Everything is usually pretty equal talent-wise. Although we might be hosed during a penalty kill.

Nate snarked: Well, then try not to take any dumbass penalties, Sid.

Sid leveled his gaze at Nate: Need anything else?

Nate responded without thinking: Did you get my pic?

Sid answered tersely: Yes, I did. Makar has a nice ass by the way.

Nate inwardly seethed. Sid was completely nonchalant by the knowledge that he fucked Cale. In the seven years since they had become “friends with benefits”, it had been generally accepted by both that what happened when they were apart in different cities went unquestioned.

It was that fact that made Sidney question why exactly Nate had sent such an obvious thirst trap picture. Then it dawned on Sidney that Nate was pissed about the draft. Sure he should have communicated better he thought, but it wasn’t like Nate was his girlfriend. “No, boyfriend,” Sidney corrected himself. Either way, Nate wasn’t entitled to an explanation and it irritated him that he reacted this way.

Nate finally came up with a response: Yeah, it was a nice ass to tap.

Immediately, Nate felt a pang of regret. It was a shitty thing to say about The Kid. It was a shitty thing to use him as a means to make Sid jealous. Nate paused. “Jealous?” Nate questioned himself, “Why would I want to make Sid jealous?”

Sidney responded with disinterest: “Was it good?”

Nate had repeated in disbelief: “Was it good?” “You don’t give a fuck?”

Sidney yawned and examined his feelings with a coldness that further infuriated his younger….. He paused to think of the correct term. What exactly was Nate to him? They definitely fell into the more than friends camp, but were they in a relationship? Definitely not. However in his gut, a tiny seed of something grew. It felt like a weird combination of jealousy, anger and outright annoyance.

Sidney and Nate’s physical relationship began at Sidney’s 2017 Stanley Cup party. A very drunk Nate followed Sidney up to his bedroom at the end of the night. When an equally drunk Sidney suggested that he walk home, Nate made his move with a sloppily drunken kiss. He moaned into Sidney's mouth, “Don't want to go home. I want to be fucked.”

It was an unexpected offer to Sidney, but not an unwelcome one. He had often imagined what it would be like to take the younger man. Solo jerk off sessions after their intense and competitive workouts had become routine. He wondered how his extremely fit body would feel in his hands. Sidney paused to contemplate the ethics involved. “How drunk are you?” Sidney asked before he returned Nate's kiss.

“Sober enough to consent,” Nate slid his hands under Sidney’s shirt, “I am also a grown ass man and I know what I want.” It was as if Nate had read his mind. It was just enough to release Sidney's tenuous hold on his last inhibition. He pulled Nate into the room and slammed the door shut. Nate grinned as he raced to strip. Sidney was slower and more deliberate in his actions. Nate gasped when Sidney’s semi-erect cock sprung out of his boxers.

“Is this your first time?” Sidney asked as he stroked his cock, getting it fully erect. Nate shook his head no. “Get ready for me,” Sidney drawled with seduction. Nate scampered onto the bed. Nate felt Sidney's large thighs behind his as his hands gripped Nate's hips. Sidney leaned forward and nipped at Nate's neck, “How do you want it?”

The blonde looked back at his hockey hero. “Any way you want to take it,” he answered. His eyes half closed in a state of extreme arousal and disbelief. He had dreamed of this moment for years. “Hard and fast it is,” Sidney smiled as he thrusted.

Sidney shook his head and pushed the memory out of his mind. Nate had fumed on the other end of the line. Sidney paused, unsure what to say. He wasn’t sure what emotion he was feeling, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit anything to Nate. “You’re free to do whatever you want, with whomever you want,” Sidney finally replied as coolly as possible.

On the other end of the line, Nate’s face reddened.

Nate: Fine, I will.

Nate ended the call abruptly and turned off his phone. He was sure that Sid would call back immediately. Sidney did not.

Thursday- February 1st- Scotiabank Arena

Sidney glanced at his phone once again as stepped out of the SUV at the All Star Game red carpet. Nate had continued his radio silence after the drunken phone call the night before. When Sidney walked into the assigned locker room, his eyes searched for Nate. He saw him huddled his fellow Avs - Cale and Georgie.

An awe-inspired silence fell over the room when Sidney walked into the locker room. It happened frequently these days when the younger players from other teams came into close proximity to their childhood hockey hero. All eyes turned to Sidney in various levels of adoration. All eyes except for Nate who felt the weight of Sid's eyes on him. He stubbornly looked at the floor and refused to acknowledge him. Sidney blinked then proceeded to his locker to dress, exchanging head nods with everyone else. Cale looked between the two friends and pondered the obvious tension.

Nate kept his focus on Cale, openly bantering with him. Sidney watched for a moment. In all of the years he had known Nate, the younger man had never failed to acknowledge him. The strange, unnamed feeling from the night before returned. The one that he had been trying to stuff down most of the morning and during flight to Toronto. Like most men when confronted by a difficult emotion, he turned it into anger. “Who in the fuck did he think was? Like I am going to be jealous of Salad boy,” Sidney thought to himself. “Any one of these guys would die to have my attention and you want to ignore me, Nate? Go ahead play with your new conquest. I will find my own.”

With that, Sidney turned his attention to Tom Wilson with a smile. “Are you here to give moral support to our boys or did you just want to spend time with me?” Sidney said flirtatiously. Nate’s ears perked up but he willed himself not to look.

“It can’t be both?” Wilson smiled back, “I won’t be on the ice today. I guess I will have to admire you from afar.”

“Just like always,” Sidney shot back, “I see you sneaking glances my way during games.” Nate’s head swiveled around and his eyes widened. Sid was openly flirting with Wilson. He was openly flirting with Wilson IN FRONT OF HIM.

Wilson inwardly laughed. He had been in the league long enough and was smart enough to realize that Sidney’s sudden flirtatiousness was not for his benefit, but MacKinnon’s. Despite that knowledge, he decided to play along because frankly he didn’t have anything better to do. The fact that it irritated the other golden boy from Nova Scotia? That was just an added bonus.

“You know I can’t help myself, Sid,” Wilson flirted, “That ass cannot be ignored.”

“Who says I want you to ignore it?” Crosby shot back.

Nate couldn’t take it anymore and stomped off towards the ice. Makar followed after him. Wilson laughed out loud, “Poor NateDogg - no longer Sid’s golden boy.”

“Shut up, Willie,” Sidney snapped.

“Or maybe he is,” Wilson answered coolly.

“It’s complicated,” Sidney said before he got up to walk to the rink. He turned to Wilson and smiled, “Thanks for the assist though. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, anytime,” Wilson smiled, “I’ll be glad to keep it up. Get him worked into a lather for you.” Sidney winked at Wilson and kept walking.

The Skills Competition essentially became a battle of two peacocks. Nate and Sidney both vying for the attention of the other by any means necessary. Nate hung tight with Cale, flirting shamelessly. Sidney flitted from young admirer to young admirer, mesmerizing them with his presence before leaving them with titillating hope of more. On the surface, the two appeared calm and collected. They joked superficially and appeared to be the same long-time friends that they had successfully projected into the world through the years. Beneath the surface, they battled to remain in control of the seething jealousy.

In the locker room after the skills competition, talk turned to evening celebrations. Nate made the first move and loudly pronounced his intent to go to a club with his fellow Avs. Sidney casually threw out that he had been invited to History, Drake’s nightclub. That announcement led to almost everyone else in the locker room to ask for an invite as well. Sidney was more than happy to text his new minions to the guest list. He threw out a half-hearted invitation to Nate which was soundly declined.

Friday - February 2nd- Scotiabank arena - Team MacKinnon locker room

Sidney threw his stick against the wall in disgust. Anger pulsating through his veins. Nate followed behind with proverbial steam coming out of his ears. The rest of Team MacKinnon followed in confused silence. “Yes, losing sucked” Oliver Bjorkstrand pondered, “but it’s just the All Star game. It’s not like the points counted.’

“What the fuck was that, Sid,” Nate screamed.

Sidney swiveled around, “What was what?”

“You missed your shoot out shot. You cost us the game,” Nate yelled.

“First, watch your tone with me. Second, you missed your shot right after me,” Sidney yelled back.

“Are you saying that I cost us the game,” the blonde huffed. The remaining players in the locker room looked back and forth as the two friends volleyed accusations at each other.

“I am saying that maybe you should have considered a penalty kill in your draft strategy,” Sidney said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you should have been there if you were so concerned about draft strategy instead of sightseeing god damn bears and wolves!” Nate responded.

Sidney took a breath and looked around the room. Expressions ranged from the total amusement of Tom Wilson to the shock and awe of Makar. Sidney grabbed onto the bench to keep himself from walking over to the defenseman to slap the expression off his face. “Fuck this,” Sidney muttered, “I refuse to be a spectacle because you are behaving like a spoiled child.” He gathered his things and walked out of the back door into the hallway.

Nate watched in disbelief. “Where in the fuck do you think that you are going?” he thought to himself. His mind raced back to Wednesday and the blythe way Sid had dismissed his veiled cries for attention. He got up and followed him down the hall. Sid checked doors until he found an empty physical therapy room unlocked. He went and threw his stuff down. He was almost undressed when Nate entered the room. The rest of players looked at each other for a moment and scampered down the hall to listen.

“Don’t walk away from me, Sid,” Nate hissed.

“I am not going to indulge your temper tantrum, Nate,” Sidney shot back.

Nate crossed to him in a fury.

“What did you say to me?” Nate questioned.

“I said that I am not going to indulge your temper tantrum,” Sidney responded coolly. The detached tone fueled MacKinnon’s repressed anger.

“Like I am a god damn baby?” Nate laughed.

“Like a damn baby in need of a pacifier,” Sidney spit out.

The duo stared at each other, nostrils flared and chests heaving. In a split second, the anger turned to unbridled passion.

“I don’t need a pacifier but I want to suck on something,” Nate whispered. Sid smiled and tore off his remaining clothes. Nate pushed him until his ample ass bounced off the padded table. Sid pushed himself up onto the table and spread his legs. Silently he offered Nate the object of his desire- his thick and throbbing cock.

Nate began to suck like it was the first time they had explored each other’s bodies. The anger had fully subsided into pure passion. It was aggressive and rough. Sid’s large fingers grabbed onto Nate’s hair and guided him up and down. Nate, however, required no guidance. A silent look was exchanged and Nate stood up. Sid hopped down and Nate bent over the table.

“Is this what you want?” Sid hissed.

“Shut up and fucking give it me,” Nate hissed back.

Sid poured the unspoken anger of the last two days into his fucking. His jealousy of Nate fucking Cale, his anger at Nate’s passive aggressiveness over the past two days, the disappointment of losing to fucking Connor McDavid fueled his relentless thrusts.

Nate felt his anger fading away, replaced with the subtle confidence that Sid did, indeed, still want him. The jealousy faded as Sid fucked him like his life depended on it. The grunt and groans filled the room. Their usual banter replaced animalistic noises as they expressed their emotions in the only way they knew how. Sid collapsed in a heap on top of Nate momentarily before wrapping his arm around Nate’s waist. His hand stroked feverishly, bringing Nate to a quick orgasm. Nate’s back rose up and down as he collected this thoughts and let his breathing slow down.

Sid gently kissed Nate’s back and Nate froze. He allowed Sid to feather kisses across his shoulder blades. Sid seemed to be conveying something, but Nate wasn’t clear on the message. He was torn on wanting to let it continue and the need to know what the message was. He pushed up and turned around to face Crosby.

“What? All of the sudden you give a shit about me?” Nate quizzed.

“Of course, I give a shit about you Nate,” Sidney answered quietly.

“Right, you really gave a shit about me when you skipped the draft,” Nate accused, “I needed you and you bailed on me.”

“You needed me? Why?” Sidney answered, truly perplexed. “All of this is because I missed the draft? Seriously?” Nate reached for his sweatpants and shook his head. “Look at me, Nate,” Sidney commanded. Nate continued to look down. “Look at me please?” Sidney asked instead of ordered.

Nate looked up, the pain evident in his eyes. Sidney continued, “I didn’t know that you really wanted me there and I didn’t certainly didn’t know that you needed me there.” He ran his fingers through his silver and gray hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing, Nate,” Sidney explained, “I thought me not being there would allow the spotlight to be on you. I thought it would give you a chance to shine.”

“You wanted me to shine?” Nate asked softly, “That’s why you stayed away?”

Sidney pulled up his sweatpants, “You were selected to be a captain. It’s a big deal. I didn't want to take attention from you.”

“Really? You expect me to believe that? What did you say the other night Sid? You’re free to do whatever you want, with whomever you want,” Nate accused.

“You are,” Sidney replied as neutrally as possible. “You are free to fuck anyone you want. That doesn't change that I want the best for you.” Inwardly Sidney's heart raced. This conversation was getting close to dangerous emotional territory.

Nate stared at Sidney for a moment. The unspoken emotion simmered beneath the surface. Finally, Nate spoke, unable to stop himself, “You-you're what's good for me.”

“What?” Sidney gasped, “What did you say?”

Nate took a step toward Sidney, “I don't want anyone else but you.” He began to say before Sidney kissed him mid-sentence. The kiss was soft and gentle, completely different than any other of their shared kisses.

“Me too. I only want you- no one else,” Sidney moaned as his tongue languidly explored Nate's mouth.

Nate pulled back, “Seriously?“

“I only want you,” Sidney reiterated as Nate grabbed him and pulled into his body. They were both absorbed in the kiss when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Uhhhh, guys?” Oliver Bjorkstrand said, “They're looking for you. Neither of you did your post game media before you uhhhh.” He paused to think of a polite way to say retreated into an empty therapy room to fuck like animals.

Sidney called out, “Tell them you found me. I'll be right there.” In the hall, the members of Team MacKinnon scrambled back to the locker room. In the room, Sidney grinned at Nate, “I'll go first and let my captain have the last word” He grabbed a hoodie, threw it on, and kissed Nate quickly before rushing out the door.

Nate stared at the door for a brief moment before reaching for his hoodie. He grabbed the remaining hoodie and saw the 87 on the right side. It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. “If I have Sid's hoodie,” he thought to himself, “Where is my hoodie? Shit, Sid has my hoodie.”

He raced to open the door. He called out to Sid, “Wait, you have the wrong hoodie,” Sid turned, looked the number on the hoodie and shrugged. Then he flashed a grin, pointed to the number and then to his heart. Nate stared for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face.

Later that night - Vince Dunn’s condo - Bellevue, Washington

Dunn looked up at the TV screen from his position between Larsson’s massive thighs. He did a double take when he saw the number 29 on Sidney Crosby’s chest. He turned to Larsson who looked down in mild annoyance to the interruption of the blow job he had been receiving. “Is Sid wearing MacKinnon’s hoodie?” Dunn asked in disbelief.

“Gubben,” the ginger spoke, “Focus.”

Dunn pouted slightly, “At least he isn't wearing some rookie's jersey like SOMEONE I know.”

Larsson gently grabbed Dunn’s face and turned it to him. “Gubben…. How long are you going to pout about that? I was simply trying to boost Garth's confidence. You know he means nothing to me. You are my special one.” Dunn grinned, basking in the reassurance of his beloved partner. “Now back to work,” the Swede playfully demanded, “Back to work.”

[unofficial-book-of-quotes-tm]

The first thing I want to say about series 6 is, it’s incredibly underrated in my opinion. I get why it’s not one of the great ones, but it’s far from bad and it has so much awesome banter and studio stuff in addition to giving us two pivotal moments in the show’s history (the kiss and Alex sitting on a cake bare-arsed), but we’ll get to that. When I watched series 6 for the first time, the only contestant I knew was Russell Howard, so let’s begin with him, shall we? I don’t have much to say on Russell other than I enjoyed his overall performance and his forte seemed to be tasks where he could show off his physical prowess, which — and I have no qualms admitting that — he’s a decent sportsman and watching him do keepy-ups will stay on my mind for a while.

Also, I always think it’s funny when one of Greg’s mates is on ‘cos they have absolutely zero respect for the Taskmaster whereas everyone else seems a little apprehensive at first usually. I feel similarly about Asim Chaudhry; He was fun to watch, though what he lacks in physical abilities and competence he makes more than up for in charm and cheek. Just like Russell, he had his moments and I think he managed to make Alex (the assistant) jealous once or twice. I mean, look at Alex’s face when Greg invites Asim to sit on his lap. I think this moment also highlights how Greg’s and Alex’s on-screen relationship changed in series 6, though more on that in a bit. Now, Liza Tarbuck. One might assume that I should be prepared for women like Liza Tarbuck and Sally Phillips at this point who are utter nutcases (affectionately) and absolutely not above doing the most insane shit imaginable. I mean, I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy them. What I remember about Liza’s attempts (and maybe I’m misremembering / misinterpreting) is that she didn’t appear to be ‘needing’ to win, instead she seemed more interested in having a good time and being creative. And who can forget:

Tim Vine is an entirely different beast and I’m not sure how I feel about him, though with every rewatch of series 6 I grow fonder of him (I’m calling that the Paul Chowdhry Effect). The thing is, I appreciate Tim going for the pun, ‘cos I’m a sucker for bad puns. But contrary to Liza, Tim gave me the impression he wanted to win and on occasion it felt like he was trying a bit too hard. Nevertheless, his big announcement and the hook disaster still crack me up only by thinking about them and the solo task he was made to do with putting together an outfit was perfect for him. I don’t really know what to make of Alice Levine, and it seems to become a habit that I’ll save contestants who baffle me for last in this sort of review. I think she’s incredibly charming and sweet, and she had a strong pet name game going on with Alex, which was quite adorable. I actually assumed she was given the solo task and had to come up with different pet names for Alex whenever she began a task, but nope. On the other hand, I kept asking myself whether Alice wanted to do Taskmaster or if she was told to do it, because in my opinion, she appears to half-ass a lot of tasks and does minimal effort, but I don’t know. Now, before I get to Greg and Alex, I just like to mention that I think the tasks in this series were actually quite strong and there are several of which I’d like to have a go myself (e.g. the bedtime story, find the link, parachute for the wooden spoon, the egg live task of episode 7, and many more). On my mainblog I made a post a couple of months ago about the shift in Greg’s and Alex’s on-screen dynamic between series 5, champion of champions 1 and series 6, ‘cos what the fuck was that? It went from something pretty one-sided (as in Alex being the besotted one) to them going for a full on snog.

I’m not complaining, just pointing out that they went from 0 to 100 pretty fast in that series — and it was only the sixth series! Speaking from series 17, I think we’re due another kiss, guys (yes, I’m absolutely shamelessly shipping the Taskmaster and the assistant). Overall I really enjoy this series, it’s got so many great and iconic moments that it baffles me how people don’t like it. I’m not here to invalidate anyone’s opinion, believe me, I have a great one coming up soon-ish, and with that, I’ll see you all in series 7! Thank you so much for sticking around!

[senka-mesecine]

Something bad happens to Barnes' significant other. Talking an ER, accident, potential loss of life type of close call. How would he react, watching the reader nearly fade? (Sorry, that last one had my mind wandering.) Living in the woods has its risks. 💀

-

I flat out think that if his significant other died he'd either want to die too, feeling that it's inevitable and simply a reality of things so the time might as well be now on his own terms or he'd go back to war, any war, anywhere in the world, wherever a war's being fought in case the one in Vietnam ends and he does so with the intent of total and radical self annihilation, wanting to do so in combat doing what he does best and furthermore, what he likes doing, like a soldier should (or at least a Mercenary). Him seeking out a war to die in would be like a deliberate suicide knell and goddamnit, he'll be crueler than ever before and take as many people as he can right to hell with him, because if you died, they should all categorically die too. And they will die en masse before he drops, believe me, because it'll be an outlet for his fury, sadism and grief, like he's having revenge on the whole wide world. He outright copes with it all by killing others, yes and he isn't even in denial about this fact to himself. He knows. He's aware of it. Feels like that would match his mentality.

But, if his significant other was right there on the verge?

And he's actively witnessing it happen?

I think he'd be keenly fixated on the actual process of them dying because if everyone gotta die sometime, he might as well be fully immersed once it's his significant other's turn once it is established he can't just take over the doctor's job from them (by force) and literally reach into his significant other's guts himself in order to fix them if need be; that's how his mental breakdown in this case manifests --- he wants to be there for all of it to the point of morbidity. Their final breath. The way their eyes roll back. Their last words. Their every shudder, shiver, their pulse and hand going cold. All of it. Is probably there squeezing their arm in a vice grip once their fingers go limp and everyone's too scared to tell the man he shouldn't be in this room right now. Might just get confrontational and violent if someone touches him, you or tries to separate him from you. Starts throwing around hospital equipment and busting up half the hospital? Maybe, yeah. Knocks out several people? Stabs someone or worse? Lands in jail due to the violence? Plausible. Drink himself into stupors? That's a given. Suffice to say, he doesn't take it well whatsoever in spite of his apparent stoicism, in fact, you dying is like the last shred of humanity flushed down the toilet. Gone. And scary thing is, he had extremely little humanity left in the first place. What he had is erased.

How about a close call and they survive?

He strikes me as the 'If you try and nearly die again on me, I'll kill you myself.' types of people, because he has this whole death seeking, grim mentality for everyone, including himself, but it's ironically juxtaposed with the fact he loves someone, namely you, and that him not wanting you to die almost makes him a two faced hypocrite and out here betraying his own philosophies and beliefs, so he covers up the fact by acting angry at the fact you were so careless and clumsy, nearly getting yourself killed, which is merely a (admittedly very toxic) facade to hide his personal hang ups, his grief and how profoundly torn up he was. Suddenly, death isn't just the dark banal 'Well, it happens to everyone eventually. Get over it, shut up and take it.' Suddenly...it's a conflict within him. You get reprimanded, criticized and he talks your ear off on the matter like a drill instructor would; might even brood for a good, long while. But to admit he actually doesn't think a whole ass human being should die, like canon fodder, because it's not their time and because he actually doesn't want them to? Because you're not indispensable to him? In fact, you are everything? Would mean pissing on everything he's ever espoused up until now. He'd be revealing a weakness left, right and center to the source of his weakness themselves. Oof, so yes, tough thing to ever acknowledge because it would also mean acknowledging he was wrong in ways. So, he doesn't. You recover from your fatal accident here thinking Barnes is somehow offended at your ineptitude and pissed off that you weren't taking better care, but in actuality, man's whole world was about to extinguish and he didn't like how that felt whereas he's been bringing and advocating death for everyone else for ages. Except now? Last thing he ever wants to experience is your death, contrary to everything he's ever stood for. Would quite literally rather end himself first or end you (or end you and him both) and at least have some control and say over how and when it happens. At least then he'd be the one who's done it to you instead of some bullshit, freak accident. Yeah, death comes for everyone and it's inevitable, but in your case, might as well be him.

He's quite literally be the living definition of 'He's so in love, he's gone insane. Well...even more insane.'