#also ALL my threads and plots are put on hold

[frostise]

just a friendly reminder: i'm going to clean out some inactive/abandoned blogs who have followed me from last year and a few months ago. to those who've engaged with my dm's, inbox, tagged posts, threads and have liked/reblog/comment on my posts: you don't need to worry about being soft blocked. to those who haven't gotten back to me yet: i'm sorry but i tried everything to be approachable and received radio silence on your end. i'm just too stressed to be dealing with this because i really wanna interact with yall sm ♡ but yeah. this isn't a personal attack or anything. i just interact more with moots who have engaged with me and kf the most and me popping into your inbox is my way of showing interest ♡

[love44lew]

everywhere, as long as its with you

彡drivers franco colapinto

彡genre spanish speaking reader! x franco colapinto, fic/smau

彡summary your boyfriend became an f1 driver, now you travel the world with him

彡notes im still pretty new to making smaus so please excuse the lack of order ToT.. i was also thinking about turning this into like a mini series since i ended up liking the plot more than expected while wring. let me know what you guys think!! other than that, thank you for reading ♡︎

you’re sitting on the knitted hanging chair outside your boyfriends argentina home, the sunset view was always so beautiful from this view—especially because he lived in the mountains where you could see everything. theres not a place in the world you would rather be. with your digital camera you snap a photo of the sunset, the quality of the camera giving the view a nostalgic feel. you close your eyes and take in the breeze brushing past your skin.

———

yourusername

location: puerto iguazú, argentina

yourusername digital camera in 🇦🇷❣️

liked by francolapinto, mailiaamour, and 23.856 others

comments

francolapinto ahh taking pictures behind my back !?

yourusername @/francolapinto sorry baby 🤫❤️

———

then you hear loud heavy footsteps scurrying from inside the house, causing you to open your eyes open again, glance around, roll them and then close them again. you sat peacefully for a total of five seconds before a frantic franco screams your name from inside the house, causing you to wince at the sudden noice.

“come!! quickly!” franco rushed you into the house. the two of you sat at the dinner table, you still didnt know what was happening but franco was getting a phone call and his leg was bouncing anxiously. “que??” you questioned, he quickly shushed you as he picked up the phone. you rolled your eyes, why did he call you all the way here if he was just gonna want you to be quiet. but also if he did, it must be a really important call.

he put the phone on speaker and placed it down on the table.

“is this franco alejandro colapinto?” a calm soft voice spoke from the other line.

“yes, this is him” franco said in his best english he can muster.

“you are being summoned by williams to attend the british grand prix, you will be driving in fp1.” franco silently looked at you with complete and utter shock in his eyes.

“are you available to attend?” the person asked from the other line in contrary to francos silence.

he searched for reassurance in your eyes, you nodded your head at him pointing to the phone.

“uh.. y-yes!—mm” he cleared his throat “yes, i am” he rephrased in a more collected tone. he couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything he’d gone through—everything he’s sacrificed, everything his family sacrificed, to get to this point. he’d finally made it, even if it was just for fp1, it could possibly lead to him being in a seat one day. franco finished up the phone call, his composure holding on to a thread the whole time until he finally hung up.

immediately he stood up and scooped you into his arms. he tightly held you, taking in your scent and everything you are. he’d finally done it, and he couldn’t have without your help and encouragement. when times got tough, when it felt like he’d never make it, there you were to push him on and make him feel good about himself again. he genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do or where he’d be without you. he cupped your face, his lips clashing with yours into a passionate and loving kiss. the way he kisses you always sends tingles down your spine—the softness of his touches compared to the way his mouth moves against yours. you could feel how much he loves you in every kiss, touch, or words he speaks. his love for you is only in the purest form.

“té quiero, mi amor” his eyes gazed lovingly into yours as your lips detached from each other, his thumbs softly caressing your face, taking in every feature that he loved so dearly.

“im so so proud of you papasito” you wiped the incoming tears that dared to flow down his rosy cheeks. your heart has always been with him and his goals, to see him succeed like this—even if its as little as free practice, it was another door opened for your talented man.

“venga conmigo” franco proposed, the heat of the moment seeming like a perfect time. he couldnt just leave you behind, after everything you’ve done?? he’d want you to be there the most.

“wh- what!?? thats crazy!!” you halfheartedly giggled, only response you could muster from how insane his suggestion was.

“why not? you’re always there for everything else, why not be there for the most special moment? cmon.” his puppy dog eyes are ones you could bear to refuse, his cheeks and nose reddened from all the excitement and happiness he feels. so, you agreed to go. youre his rock in all this, his biggest supporter. why wouldnt he want his favorite cheerleader to go and continue to push him on? plus, youve never been to london.

———

yourusername’s story

liked by

francolapinto ♥︎

bsfsusername ♥︎

viewers: 6820

—

franco went on to place p11 in his first race after london, which you were extremely proud of him. to be so close to points in a backmarker team was, to say the least, impressive. you always knew he had it in him but for his first time ever racing as an f1 drivers against the other 19 best in the world? a blessed experience.

[meangirls-imagines]

Hey I read your mean girls stuff and loved it! I thought I'd drop a request for regina x fem reader, where regina's pissed because she thought it would be a one and done but after being with reader Regina is ruined for anyone else and pissed because now she has to wife this girl before anyone else realizes how great she is.

Ruin Me

Description: Regina has the best sex of her life with Reader. She's ruined for anyone else and has to catch Reader in her grasp before someone else does.

WARNINGS: porn with some plot, blowjob on strap (r receiving), oral (regina receiving), strap on (regina receiving), squirting strap ons, creampie, slight breeding kink, praise kink

"Fuck, you look so pretty taking my fingers, Gina."

Regina's back arched as the fingers inside her hit the right spot. Her brain was a pile of mush. Words were not forming due to the immense pleasure she was feeling. This was only her second orgasm of the night and she knew she was in for a long one.

The girl in-between her legs sped up her fingers and gently began sucking on Regina's clit. The blonde had to bite back a scream. They were still at a party after all.

Y/N added a third finger as Regina gasped. "Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well." Regina clenched harder around Y/N's fingers, the girl smirking.

"Someone like that?" The blonde whined as the girl lightly licked her clit. Y/N smirked and curled her fingers, hitting that sweet spot. "Go ahead, Gina. I know you wanna come."

The blonde shattered. Little black dots blurred her vision for a few seconds as Y/N kissed her way up the blonde's body, allowing her to come down from her high.

"You did so good for me, Regina. You looked so beautiful, cumming for me." Y/N's lips gently pecked around Regina's face, slowly bringing her back to reality. "Fuck, Y/N. I've never came that hard in my life just from head."

Y/N smirked and kissed Regina's forehead. "Because boys don't know how to eat pussy." Regina blushed and leaned up tp kiss Y/N. Y/N groaned softly at the feeling of Regina's lips. The two kissed for a minute before Y/N pulled away and went to her dresser.

"I have a surprise baby." Regina perked up as the girl turned around, holding a strap on. Regina smiled and nodded. Y/N put the harness on and motioned Regina to the end of the bed. The blonde smirked, crawling so that her head was facing the end of the bed.

Y/N stood in front of the blonde, stroking her hair gently. "Let's see you put those cock sucking skills of yours to the test, yeah baby?" Regina felt heat shoot straight to her core. She wanted to please Y/N. She opened her mouth and began gently sucking on the tip.

Y/N groaned at the sight of Regina, swollen lips and messy hair, sucking her off. The blonde whimpered at the sound and took the toy deeper in her mouth. Y/N had gathered the blonde strands into a makeshift ponytail as she guided Regina's head up and down her cock.

Regina's pussy clenched around nothing as Y/N essentially began fucking her throat with the toy. The blonde loved how dominant Y/N was being, having not experienced it with anyone else. She was stern, but also soft with the blonde, checking in every now and then and making sure she was okay.

After a few minutes of Regina sucking her off, Y/N gently pulled the blonde up to her lips, meeting in a sloppy kiss. "You looked so pretty sucking my cock, princess. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?"

Regina nodded as Y/N guided her to lay on her back. She leaned down and kissed Regina softly, but passionately. The blonde melted into the kiss, threading her fingers in Y/N's hair. Y/N pulled away and whispered. "Are you good, baby? Need a break or anything?"

Regina shook her head and pecked Y/N's lips. "No. I need you to fuck me." Y/N's eyes darkened as she ran the silicone tip up and down Regina's cunt. "Well, then you're gonna love this, baby. There's a secret about this strap."

Regina looked confused and then gasped as Y/N slid the toy inside her. "It squirts." Y/N began thrusting in and out of the blonde at a steady pace. Regina couldn't do anything but take it. Now with the knowledge of the squirting strap, her fucked out brain took over.

She wanted Y/N to cum in her.

She wrapped her legs around the girl's hips as she sped up. Regina moaned quietly, trying not to scream. Y/N smirked at the girl's struggle and slowed her thrusts down and focused more on deeper strokes, the tip of the toy brushing against the blonde's g-spot.

Regina couldn't hold back anymore and began to release her moans. Y/N felt the blonde's nails scratch down her back. She ran her hand down Regina's body and began to rub the blonde's clit.

Regina choked on a moan as Y/N built her up to her orgasm. Y/N leaned down and began sucking on one of Regina's nipples. The girl felt her orgasm quickly closing in on her as she choked out a sentence.

"Can I cum?" Y/N smiled at the girl. "Such a good girl for asking baby. Of course you can." Regina screamed as her second orgasm washed over her. Y/N continued thrusting, whispering praise to the blonde. Regina grabbed Y/N's jaw as the girl continued to thrust.

"Baby, I want you to cum in me. I need you to cum in me. Fill me up."

Y/N reached down, squeezing the base of the cock, releasing the cum into Regina, reaching her own high in the process. The girls collapsed into each other on the bed, exhausted from their activities. Y/N groaned as she stood, removing the harness and grabbing some boxers and a t-shirt.

Regina didn't make a move to sit up, instead she just remained laying down, catching her breath. "Where are you going?" Y/N smiled. "I gotta go clear out my house. I'll be right back baby."

Regina blushed as Y/N walked out, clearing her home drunk and horny teens. Meanwhile, in her room, Regina got up tp get some clothes. As she browsed through Y/N's closet, she came across her track letterman, her last name stitched onto the back of the jacket.

Suddenly, an idea popped into Regina's head.

As much as she hated leaving Y/N on read until she got to school, she had to do it in order for her plan to work. She had left very early this morning, snagging the letterman jacket on her way out. Regina's outfit was definitely going to turn heads.

She was wearing a pink crop top underneath the letterman and black jeans. Regina topped the outfit off with her black Doc Martens. As she walked into the school, she noticed people immediately staring. She smirked as she saw girls glare at her as she strolled into the cafeteria, one person in mind.

Y/N had her back to her, frowning at her phone. Regina hadn't texted her since she left super early this morning and Y/N was kinda sad. Her teammate noticed Regina strutting towards them and nudged Y/N's foot under the table.

Y/N looked up confused as she turned to see what her teammate was looking at. Her jaw dropped at the blonde wearing a familiar jacket. Regina smirked at her reaction and reached her table, sitting herself down in Y/N's lap.

Before the girl could say anything, Regina connected their lips in a hot, passionate kiss. They could hear people gasping and cameras going off as they made out. Regina pulled away first, grabbing Y/N's face, forcing her to look at the blonde with darkened eyes.

"You're mine."

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — lee heeseung

IN WHICH; I-LAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÈRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

PAIRING: idol!heeseung x idol!fem!reader

GENRE: smau, strangers to lovers, celebrity x celebrity, fluff, don’t let the first part of the smau fool you i swear it’s full on angst towards the end, slowest of the slow burns…

WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible humour, kys/kms jokes, sexual innuendos, spelling errors, incorrect timestamps, probably some cringe-worthy moments, cyberbullying, racist and misogynistic comments made about reader, death threats, mentions/depictions of overworking, insomnia, eating disorders, not proofread etc. (i am not in anyway romanticising, encouraging or condoning the usage of these topics. purely for the plot and development of the story.)

STATUS: completed! (04/06/2023 – 08/08/2023)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: please read! literally my first attempt at a smau so please don't flame me 💀 i must warn y’all that the timestamps are really all over the place, so DO NOT pay attention to them until stated. the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all accidentally skip over it! last but not least, if you do end up enjoying it please like, comment (absolutely love reading comments!), and reblog! without further ado, enjoy!!

p.s this was written way before the actual airing of I-LAND 2 and not meant to be connected with the real show/contestants in anyway. this was also before i found out you can actually put more than 10 photos in one post 🤡

TAGS: #tfwy handsonyou

prologue - introducing LUMIÈRE part 1 | part 2

profile. one | two

chapter 1 - number 1 hater

chapter 2 - infant

chapter 3 - #prayersformarklee ✊🤞

chapter 4 - dog-eater…? (hw)

chapter 5 - breaking records(?)

chapter 6 - still employed!

chapter 7 - bad publicity is still publicity

chapter 8 - to hee or not to hee

chapter 9 - the heist

chapter 10 - trigger warning

chapter 11 - soompitydimpity

chapter 12 - chronic insomnia

chapter 13 - to hee after all

chapter 14 - wild pokémon heeseungie

chapter 15 - artists

chapter 16 - that should be me

chapter 17 - bills

chapter 18 - the elephant in the room (hw)

chapter 19 - if you let me

chapter 20 - trouble? travel! (hw)

chapter 21 - caught in a lie

chapter 22 - always on your side

chapter 23 - princess syndrome

chapter 24 - you (hw)

chapter 25 - golden thread

chapter 26 - way back home (hw)

chapter 27 - uh oh…

chapter 28 - fight or flight

chapter 29 - close friends

chapter 30 - paradoxx invasion

chapter 31 - ramen

chapter 32 - 080923 (hw)

chapter 33 - driver

chapter 34 - demure and honest

chapter 35 - p-platonic?!?

chapter 36 - friends don’t look at friends that way

chapter 37 - bungeoppang

chapter 38 - back to the way things were..?

chapter 39 - wheel of fortune

chapter 40 - i miss holding your hand (hw)

chapter 41 - sooha (real)

chapter 42 - rizzseung

chapter 43 - project luminescence

chapter 44 - i will go to you like the first snow (hw)

chapter 45 - it’s awfully quiet…

chapter 46 - jake pick me era?

chapter 47 - my life without you is a misery

chapter 48 - your honour, i’m innocent

chapter 49 - breaking my silence

chapter 50 - he’s being exploited!

chapter 51 (finale) - number 1 fan (hw)

epilogue - forever ruined by you

bonus chapter!

the exes talk

Copyright© 2023 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Spare Me Your Happier Ending (I Want To Feel Everything)

A/N: happy happy @rhystaappreciationweekend everyone! You know they're my favorite rare-pair/crack-ship, and I can't wait to see what everyone creates. I'm kicking off the weekend with the Rivals prompt, particularly historical rivals. What is the historical period? Vague. What is the plot? Also vague. But onwards to what really matters: smutfest 😉

Read on AO3

Nesta walks down the long, stretching hallway, the sound of her heels clipping against the marble floor echoing in her ears. If she focuses, she can just make out the sounds of the string quartet playing a waltz in the ballroom, the soft sounds of swishing silk, of chatter and clinking glasses.

The sounds of joy.

Everyone is so happy to smile and raises their glasses in a toast. So happy to talk and dance with the other side. So happy to pretend that the last five years haven't happened. So happy to hang the purple and black flags right alongside the blue and silver banners. So happy to forget the bloodshed and the pain, all in the name of peace.

Peace.

It takes everything within Nesta to rein in her snort and eye roll at the notion. To swallow down her annoyance at this whole ball. To hold in her rage toward her father for agreeing to this whole treaty in the first place. Was it all for nothing? All those years of war?

"Nesta Archeron."

Nesta's steps freeze at the sound of that voice. She takes a moment to breathe deeply, sighing through her nose, before she turns around to face the Prince of Velaris himself. Rhysand. He stands at the other end of the hallway, dressed in an all black suit, silver threads sewn into the three mountain pattern of his kingdom along the lapels. His hands are shoved into his pockets, his stance easy and relax, but even with the distance between them, Nesta can see the slight upturn of his lips, the flare sparking in his violet eyes when they meet her own.

"Did you need something?" Nesta drawls, crossing her arms.

"Hiding from the party?" Rhysand fires back, walking toward her in slow, measured steps.

She refuses to be intimidated by the display, by the closing distance between them. She doesn't care who he is, doesn't care that he'll one day be a king. She'll be a queen, and she will not be cowed by all his cool bravado and swagger, by a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth who's never heard the word no before.

"Perhaps, I'm simply hiding from a pretentious ass of a prince," Nesta offers, raising her chin and looking down her nose despite the slight height he has on her.

"Is that so? And here I was hoping we might share a dance."

"Gladly. A perfect opportunity to put you in your place."

Rhysand chuckles at the remark, the sound low and taunting. He takes another step forward, but with their closeness, it forces Nesta to take a step back. Again and again he forces her to retreat until her back hits the cool stone of the wall, Rhysand crowding into the space in front of her. His smirk is wide and cocksure, his head tilting as his gaze sweeps over her.

As he sizes her up.

"Well, this is certainly quite the act," Rhysand begins, his hand reaching up for her face.

"Act?" Nesta scoffs, trying to jerk her head away, but his fingers merely curl tightly around her chin, holding her face firmly in his grasp, keeping her attention firmly on him.

"All that coldness, all that bitchiness, it's just a facade, isn't it? We both know what you really want." He leans in closer still, until Nesta can feel his warm breath fan across her cheeks, her lips. "You want to be used. Want to be stuffed full. Want come so deep in your cunt that you'll feel it and be dripping for days."

"Fuck you," Nesta snarls, raising her knee and aiming right for his balls.

But Rhysand is faster, his hand snapping down and catching her knee before it can make contact. She expects him to shove her leg away, perhaps expects him to fire a cruel retort right back at her. But his smirk only seems to grow, something dark flickering in his violet eyes.

A predator recognizing a worthy opponent. Recognizing the same claws and teeth, the same darkness that clearly twines like thorns around both their hearts after all these years of fighting.

"You can't lie to me," Rhysand tells her, his fingers moving in a way that they gather up the skirts of her dress, the fabric rising up over her ankle, her calf. "I bet if I reach under your dress, I'd find you already wet for me."

Nesta makes a big show of rolling her eyes, but she knows he's not wrong. Already, she can feel her body responding, can feel her chest beginning to heave, her heart beginning to pound. Already, she can feel heat licking through her veins and pooling low in her gut.

And she wants to hate it.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that she should put a stop to this. She knows that she should push Rhysand away and simply return to her family and the ball still happening. But she can't stop thinking about his earlier words. His promise. She can't help but wonder what it might be like if they both truly dropped their masks, truly unleashed their claws and sunk them into one another.

"Find out," Nesta breathes, the challenge clear in her tone.

There's no describing the emotion that flickers through Rhysand's eyes other than pure hunger. The low candlelight glints off his too sharp teeth as a feral grin stretches across his face. His hand teases higher still, fingertips sliding against the inside of her thigh. Nesta's breath hitches in anticipation the closer he gets to where she wants him, goosebumps cascading down her leg and up her spine.

His hand finally finds her underclothes, two fingers dragging along her cunt through the fabric, and Nesta has to swallow down a whimper at that first touch. He must be able to feel what a mess she's already made because he groans softly, his fingers pressing with more purpose on the second drag.

"What do you know," Rhysand drawls, tracing a teasing circle over her clit. "Such a needy little princess after all."

He pushes her underclothes to the side, and Nesta gets her first taste of skin on skin contact. His fingers gather the wetness that pooled between her thighs, coating his digits with each teasing pass, but Nesta bites her lip hard. She refuses to beg, especially with this man.

Instead, she merely raises her chin higher, willing her voice to stay steady and cold despite the moan trapped in her throat. "Is this it, then? As disappointing as the Velaris armies."

Rhysand snarls from between his teeth, shifting his hand and pressing two fingers into Nesta's cunt. She gasps as the sudden intrusion, the stretch from just his fingers. They're thicker than her own ever were, reach deeper than hers ever could, and when he pulls his fingers back just to shove them deep again, Nesta's toes curl in her shoes.

"What was that?" Rhysand taunts.

Nesta opens her mouth to respond, but Rhysand chooses that exact moment to curl his fingers, any words dying in the back of Nesta's throat and replaced with a soft moan. From that damned smirk of his making a reappearance, it was clearly purposeful. He begins to move his fingers in earnest, thrusting his in and out of her cunt in a rough and brutal pace and stoking the fire brewing in Nesta's veins into a full blown blaze.

She can feel every drag of his fingers against the walls of her cunt, can feel herself getting even wetter beneath his skillful ministrations. She can hear the sound his fingers make each time they press into that wetness, mixing with the gasps and moans that tumble past her lips.

"Careful," Rhysand warns, leaning in and dragging his teeth over her throat. "You don't want people to hear you, do you?"

Nesta bites her lip hard, tries desperately to swallow down the whimper trapped in her throat, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the pleasure he's drawing out of her. It has her tossing her head back against the wall. Has her hips rocking down against his hand. Has her cunt clenching hard as though desperate to keep his fingers deep, to keep them right where they belong.

"Imagine what they'd think if they walked by and found you riding my hand."

Rhysand squeezes in a third finger, and Nesta gasps at the stretch. Her own hand snaps down to curl around his wrist, nails biting against his skin, but she doesn't stop him. She merely holds on.

"What they'd think if they knew how absolutely drenched you were, what a mess you're making of my hand."

"Fuck," Nesta whines high in the back of her throat.

"If they knew the way your sweet cunt keeps squeezing my fingers. So desperate and greedy."

Rhysand shifts his hand enough that he can press his thumb against her clit, working it in time with the fingers still driving into her again and again. Nesta can feel that familiar tightening low in her gut, can feel the pleasure carrying her higher and higher. She can feel herself right on that precipice, but before she can go tumbling head first over the edge, Rhysand pulls his hand away completely, everything coming to a screeching halt.

"What the fuck?" Nesta seethes, her breaths still heaving with those simmering flames.

She shoves hard at Rhysand's chest, but he catches her wrists, pulling her roughly into his body and leaning down to speak directly in her ear. "Did you really think I'd let you come on anything other than my cock, princess?"

Rhysand steps back, but he doesn't let go of her wrists. Instead, he uses the hold to drag Nesta away from the wall, to drag her down the stretching hallways. Everything passes by Nesta in a blur until she's being guided through a set of large, oak doors and into what she presumes must be Rhysand's guest chambers. But she barely gets a look at that either before Rhysand all but shoves her onto the large, sprawling bed in the center of the space.

His hands fist into her skirts, the sound of tearing fabric especially loud in the quiet of the room. Her underclothes are next, and then Rhysand's fingers are curling tightly around her thighs, prying them apart. He spreads her wide open, exposing her cunt fully to him, and Nesta's hips jump in anticipation, her cunt fluttering around nothing, around the emptiness.

"Where's that cold, bitchy facade now?" Rhysand asks.

He reaches for the laces of his pants, deft fingers working quickly to free his cock. He shoves his pants down his hips, and Nesta has to swallow hard at the sight presented before her. His cock is long and curved slightly where it hangs hard and already leaking against his thigh. He fists his cock lazily, Nesta tracking every drag up and down of his hand, every slide of his palm along the veins there.

"Beg for it," Rhysand requests, stepping closer into the cradle of Nesta's thighs.

"Fuck you."

Rhysand drags the head of his cock over her cunt, teasing at her clit. "Put that smart mouth of yours to good use and beg for it."

Nesta presses her lips together against the moan bubbling up her throat, swallows down the shiver threatening to ricochet up her spine, at every slide, every tantalizing circle he traces. But she refuses to be ordered around in her own home, refuses to let go of her pride, no matter what her body so desperately craves.

Instead, she hooks her heels on the bed, spreading her thighs wider still. She reaches a hand down between them, knocking Rhysand's own away and gripping his cock. She slides her hand down and back up, dragging her thumb across the head, across the combination of precum and the mess of her own arousal there.

"Perhaps, I should find someone else at the party? Someone who can actually give me pleasure?"

With a growl, Rhysand's hand snaps to around Nesta's throat, squeezing once in warning. He kneels up properly onto the bed, violet eyes ablaze as he leans down until he's right in Nesta's face.

"Be a good girl and do as you're told. Scream my name."

The words are Nesta's only warning before Rhysand lines up his cock, pressing his hips forward and sinking into her cunt. The stretch is indescribable, even more so than his fingers, and while she doesn't follow the order to scream, there's no stopping the moan that's pulled straight from her throat. She can feel every vein of his cock pressing against the walls of her cunt, can feel him buried so deep and filling her so completely.

"Fuck, look at how you take me," Rhysand praises, rocking his hips forward still until he bottoms out. "Just desperate for cock, aren't you? Desperate for a good fucking."

"So show me a good fucking," Nesta grits out around a moan.

Rhysand smirks again, hooking Nesta's thighs around his waist. "Careful what you wish for."

He pulls his hips back just to snap them back forward again, his groan once he's buried again matching Nesta's own moan. He quickly sets a brutal pace, fucking into her hard and fast. Nesta reaches a hand up and over her head, fisting her fingers into the fabric of the blankets beneath her, trying to merely hold on.

The sound of skin on skin is overly loud in her ears, roaring right alongside her thundering heartbeat, her gasping moans and pleas, Rhysand's own grunts and groans. She can feel what a mess they're making between her thighs, can feel herself growing wetter still with each snap of Rhysand's hips, each time his cock slams home into her cunt. But it's hard to care when all she can focus on is the heat flooding through her veins, on the stretch of his cock and the way it strokes the walls of her cunt.

On the pleasure of being so full.

"What a shame our nations reached a peace treaty," Rhysand tells her, his hips never pausing even as his hand reaches roughly for her jaw, thumb dragging across her bottom lip. "I would have much rather taken you as my war prize."

Nesta huffs, trying to bite at his fingers in retaliation, but Rhysand merely chuckles mockingly. He moves his hand out of the way, settling it instead at her hip. It feels like a brand, that touch, the way his fingers dig into her flesh.

"I could have kept you right here, in this bed, stuffed full of me."

Nesta can't help but moan at his words, her cunt clenching down hard around his cock. Her heels scramble for purchase against his back, hips tilting up to meet his thrusts and draw his cock deeper still.

"Like that, do you? Like being stuffed full of my cock. Of my seed. Could breed the next heir of Velaris right here."

Nesta tightens her thighs around Rhysand's waist, using the grip and momentum to flip them over, Rhysand's back against the blankets and her astride his lap. "The next heir of Gwyll, you mean."

She settles her hands on Rhysand's abdomen, where his shirt has ridden up and bunches around his waist. She digs her nails into his skin, using it as leverage as she begins to move her hips, fucking herself on his cock. Rhysand hisses from between his teeth, but whether it's from the bite of her nails or the squeeze of her cunt, Nesta isn't sure. Nor does she care.

His own hands reach for the bosom of her dress, tugging it down until her breasts spill free over the top. His palms grope and knead at her breasts, thumbs dragging over her nipples, and Nesta keens loudly, her back arching. It all feels too good, the way his hands work her breasts, the way his cock fills her cunt, the way her clit catches and drags against his pelvis with every circle of her hips.

Rhysand sits up enough that he can close his mouth over one of her breasts. His teeth drag and tease across the sensitive skin there, his tongue laving over her nipple. His teeth sink in completely, just the right side of pleasure and pain, and Nesta explodes. Her release tears through her, practically shouting Rhysand's name as she clamps down around his cock.

She continues to move her hips shallowly, to chase the final tendrils of that high, but then Rhysand is flipping them back over. He hoists one of Nesta's legs up over his shoulder, redoubling his efforts from before. Nesta cries out as his hips slam against hers, as his cock spears into her cunt still fluttering with aftershocks over and over again.

"Mother save me, who knew having you come all over my cock could feel so good," Rhysand gets out between his groans. "Maybe I really will keep this sweet cunt just for me. Just for me to use. Just for me to fill and keep dripping."

It's almost too much, that over-stimulation, but already, Nesta can feel herself barreling toward that precipice again. Can feel that heat brewing too quickly. Dangerously.

"Please," Nesta whines, little more than a moaning, writhing mess. "Please…"

"Look at that. You can beg."

A few more thrusts, and Rhysand buries his cock with a groan. Nesta can feel the way his cock twitches deep within her, can feel the way he floods her cunt with the warmth of his own release. He continues to thrust his hips shallowly, one of his hands reaching down between their bodies until his fingers find her clit. It only takes a few presses before Nesta's whole body is convulsing, another orgasm leaving spots dancing behind her eyelids.

"That's it, really milk my cock."

Nesta slumps back against the blankets, tossing an arm over her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. She whimpers when Rhysand pulls his softening cock free, but it quickly turns into a gasp when he presses two fingers right back into her cunt.

"Make sure you don't lose a drop," Rhysand leans down to say right against Nesta's ear.

Nesta has to bite her lip, has to swallow down the whine trapped in her throat, but there's no stopping the way her cunt still flutters at the request, and from Rhysand's deep chuckle, the reaction has clearly given her away. He pulls away completely, and Nesta lowers her arm enough that she can watch him tuck his cock back into his pants, watch him retie the laces and fix his shirt.

He tugs at the sleeves, picking at something on the fabric and heading toward the doors, but he pauses with his hand outstretched toward the handle. He turns his attention over his shoulder, his gaze slowly sweeping over Nesta's frame where she's still sprawled across the blankets, still a mess of torn fabric, of sweat and his seed dripping from her cunt. The smirk he gives her is nothing short of male arrogance and pride.

"I still expect that dance by the way."

[achaotichuman]

Recently I delved into the depths of my docs to find the first fanfiction I wrote for ACOTAR that never saw the light of day.

Obviously it's horrible writing, but I like the premise and since I am addicted to piling more projects on top of my scheldule I rewrote the first chapter and redid the plot for it.

Originally these events take place a year or two after the war with Hybern, and everything is the exact same EXCEPT for somethin Tamlin is doing.

I changed it so that this is a fic of what would have happened if Tamlin didn't give over that drop of power to bring Rhysand back.

Anyway, here's there rewritten chapter. Tell me if you guys like it!

“Be happy Feyre.”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth. The carefully loving words that wrapped like ivy around his throat, choking him, those last cords of love that had twisted into something else. That had made him soft for her. He had offered his heart like ripe fruit on a silver platter for her to take and now look at where he stood. 

Bloodied, gore and guts clinging to his armour like a second layer of skin, mud caked on his legs and arms. Hair a mess, dirty and disgusting. His people, his armies, whom he had gone to his knees to earn the trust of them back, after she twisted their minds, undid their memories, stared in every personal thought to create a new story for all of them. One that fit her narrative. 

The damage she had caused, the things she had taken. What she had done, what she had cost not just them but all of Pryhtian. Destroying the Courts she had saved not even a year ago. 

Now, on her knees, holding the man who had assaulted her night after night after night whilst she vomited, cried and danced and laughed, and been drugged. She screamed his name whilst she cling to his lifeless form. 

The good for nothing bastard Lord was finally dead. Tamlin should have breathed a sigh of relief. 

Instead every High Lord stood around awkwardly, as one after the other they had willingly handed over their magic despite what this man had done to them. Despite how much they all hated him. They did it for his grief-stricken mate who screamed for them to help. To bring him back the same way she had come back. 

But he was dead for what he had done. Giving over power to remake the Cauldron, the mother had taken his very soul with the magic, the price paid to put the world back together. 

Truly, who were they to defy her?

Tamlin stood up straight, when Feyre stared up at him, eyes filled with tears as she saw his stone-cold face. 

“Please,” She screamed, “Please I’ll do anything!”

Green eyes cut from her to the other Lords. None made eye-contact with him. All looking elsewhere, anywhere, the grey-red clouds above, the torn battlefield layered with bodies on decaying bodies, the rivers running red with blood. Some of them, no doubt reminded of Amarantha’s reign of terror by the bloodshed, looked to the muddy ground. 

But none dared look in his eye, all knew what she had done to him. Her reasons for doing so. They also all knew what he had done to her. 

But staring down at her now, thinking back on all of it. 

Thinking back on the slander of Court, the destruction of his people. The lying, the scheming, the pure hatred. 

Then there was one final thought that struck true. 

What would they have all done if it had been him dead on the floor and not Rhysand?

The image of his bloodied mother, his dead brothers, even as cruel as they were, flashed before his eyes. 

“No.” He said. Standing tall and true, “I will not hand over my magic.”

“You fucking monster!” A girl with gold streaked blonde hair lunged at him from out of nowhere. Morrigan. 

She didn’t get far, from where she was knees deep in the mud. A flash of gold and a short-sudden scream from her. She was pinned to the floor with golden threads. Not painful, but certainly startling, and no doubt humiliating. 

Tamlin couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Feyre stared up at him. Her wet blue eyes boring into his own with a deep-cut grief that would have broken him just a few weeks ago. 

Now. 

Now all he felt was mild pity, and a distant sadness, for the girl who had been killed under the mountain and never brought back. 

“Who's to say the real Rhysand would even return?” Tamlin said, voice mockingly kind, “When the first time we brought a human back, she was not the same at all?”

Feyre’s saddened eyes turned wrathful, her beautiful face twisting into a deadly scowl. All that hatred, focused solely on him. 

“You were what led me to my death! And now you refuse to even help him!” She screamed, the pain and grief tearing through her, along with the emptiness of where her mating bond used to be no doubt fueling her rage. 

“You led yourself to your death as did he.” Tamlin said, perfectly calm and stoic. She wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Not anymore. 

Tamlin looked to the others, “Think about all that male has done to us. Think of what his mate has brought down upon our lands. And maybe rethink tossing your magic carelessly at whatever dead corpse lays before you.”

“He is not a corpse!” Feyre shrieked. Her cries and screams becoming distant. Vague. As weariness bore heavy on him. For the mortal, the living, unfortunately exhaustion was a natural occurrence. 

Tamlin’s eyes went down to Rhysand. Least he’ll never be exhausted again. 

The thought was cruel, and maybe he was a horrible man for feeling relief. Staring into that lifeless face, knowing he was dead forever. Gone. Bound to never bring him misfortune again. 

“You are a heartless male.” A seething voice said somewhere near him. Tamlin looked towards where a limping Illyrian with blue siphons hissed, looking like he wanted to tear the High Lord to shreds but his own limitations and injuries prevented it. 

A cold, humourless smile broke out on his face. The Spring Lord looked down upon Feyre. 

“Give him your own magic.” He said, tilting his head, “Why don’t you hand over those drops of power you claim to make yourself so, so powerful?”

She was silent, as tears continued to stream down her face, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Oh right, you can’t.”

He would leave after this and never see her face again, he hoped, but he didn’t bite his tongue to prevent the final blow, “Our magic is the only thing holding you together. You claim yourself so powerful. Above the rest of us entirely. The self-proclaimed High Lady of the Night Court, equal to the most powerful in all the Earth. But you really aren’t. You need our magic to survive.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand, and didn’t hide the relief on his face, “You can’t bring him back without us.”

The Nightmare was gone. Now all that was left was the cleanup. 

Feyre screamed, whether it was an insult, her hatred or simply incoherent, he didn’t know. He winnowed away. Back to Spring. 

It was time for a cleanup. 

And he had plans to make things right in his Court. In Prythian in its entirety. 

***

I probably will not continue this fic since I have so much I need to write already, but I think its fun to go back and reflect on my old ideas and rewrite to compare to how my form was before and how it is now.

[upsidedownmvnson]

midnight ideas | eddie munson smut

warnings: sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), friends to lovers, minimal plot

AN: im so down bad, but its my birthday so happy day to us all

It was midnight when you knocked on the trailer door, but you knew Wayne wasn't home, and you'd never felt bad about waking Eddie up before. He probably wasn't even sleeping. Lights flicked on and off in the windows before Eddie swung the door open, clad only in sweatpants and leaning on the door, looking a little too hot for a best friends' comfort.

But that didn't matter.

You were here to be a freak.

Here to ask something weird from your best friend, that probably crossed a line or two.

"I need a favour," you asked before any greetings were exchange. You'd biked from your house, which was far enough that you thought you looked a bit like a mess, but from Eddie's perspective you were hot as fuck. Your clothes were all unaligned, and your hair was a mess, like you knew he fantasized about threading his hair through it. "I need you to leave hickeys on my chest."

Eddie looked at you, as if waiting for you to say more. "Okay, well come in. But I'm gunna need a little more context."

"You know that guy I was seeing who just stopped calling and stopped coming by, well he's moved on already, it's been like a minute..."

"A month."

"A minute." You waved Eddie off, sitting on his couch casually like you weren't just asking your best friend to put his mouth all over you. "And I didn't even really like him but then he was like 'sure you do' when I said I have a date tonight." You scoffed and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at the audacity of the man you had lied to.

"Did you have a date tonight?"

"Not the point."

Eddie laughed. "And you need, what? Proof?"

"Something like that."

Out of nowhere you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. You still had a bra on, purple and flattering, but Eddie was stunned into silence. He tried to speak, but all the words got caught in his throat, leaving him to just stare wide eyed at the presentation before him.

"Anyway, I don't want them on my neck because I don't need to broadcast this to everyone but..." you looked at Eddie who was staring at your boobs, not moving a muscle. Both of his hands placed neatly on his lap. "Oh c'mon, don't be a baby."

"I-I'm not, I just..." Eddie's eyes flashed up to your face, meeting you where you were looking at him. "You're beautiful."

You smiled. "Thanks Eds."

When he didn't move again, you swatted his hands off his lap, and you spun around to sit on his lap facing him. Your hands were on his shoulders, holding yourself steady on him. Eddie's voice was lost again, and his hands hovered in the air behind you, unsure of where to touch. Beneath you, Eddie was already rock hard, his wildest fantasies were literally falling right into his lap, but you didn't feel it yet.

"Obviously you don't have to," you said, back arching slightly into him, your bodies kept apart by only your bra. Everywhere skin connected to Eddie made your skin burn. He was warmth. He was comfort and warmth and home, and you were waiting for him to sink his teeth into you.

The threat of losing this closeness to you made him put his hands on your hips, the roughness of his skin was delicious against the softness of yours. Even touching you made his cock twitch in his sweatpants, but he was hidden behind the band.

"Just give me a second to process this baby," he said, he'd never called you that before and it made you clench, but it also made your heart flutter.

The tension of waiting for him made a knot in your abdomen build, and you felt yourself getting wet over the situation you'd put yourself in. You'd never thought about, but looking at Eddie like this, and thinking about him like this, was really making you horny. If he tried, you'd probably let him do more than kiss you.

Eddie's thumbs ran soothingly across your rib cages, looking up at you, his beautiful eyes looking at you like this made things feel different. You weren't thinking about some loser who didn't call you, you were thinking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was taking over your senses. And then he did it. He reached forward and kissed a small section of your collarbone, before gently bringing it into his mouth, sucking a sinful little kiss into this skin.

Eddie hands trailed up your back slowly, shivers replaced his heat on your body. His lips were still attached to you, sucking slowly and sweetly on your collarbone. His hands around you kept you close, preventing you from shying away, but you wanted to be close anyway. You want him to keep kissing you like this. You wanted him to kiss you everywhere.

You moved your hands to his hair, practically coddling him and keeping him close to you, tugging at fistfulls everytime he switched to a new location to kiss. You shimmied in his lap, making him bite you lightly, and grip you tighter in his hands. It may have been a warning, but you ignored it and moved again, this time moaning quietly.

"If you don't stop that you're gunna start something you can't finish," he mumbled, hands moved again, gripping your hips just tight enough to hold you still.

"You know what would really piss that guy off?" you mumbled, and Eddie flinched at the words. He didn't really want to be thinking of the other man on your mind right now. "Was if he thought you and I really did it."

"How so?" Eddie replied, but reattached himself to the soft felsh peaking out of your bra. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"I don't know," you mused, but you did. "Maybe I can wear that short little skirt to school, and maybe you can leave hickeys... I don't know, on my thigh?"

Eddie froze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up at you.

Your judgement was so clouded with lust for your best friend, it was pathetic.

"Please," you begged, pouting in a way you knew would make him fold.

But you didn't really need to, Eddie nodded softly and quickly, swallowing his nerves. you got off him, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Eddie kept staring, he discovered your lack of panties without warning, and couldn't look away from the prettiest sight he'd ever scene. You unclipped your bra saying, "Guess we might as well take this off too."

"Come here," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing you back over by curling his two middle fingers towards himself. "On the couch."

You laid down, head on the armrest, suddenly a little shy at the prospect of having Eddie kissing you between the legs.

You mean... on the legs...

Eddie was on his knees, in-between your spread legs, leaning on the back of the couch so he could lean over you a little bit. One of your legs was draped over his, and he ran his hand up it, staring at the beautiful sight until it burned into a memory he won't forget.

"Are you really sure?" he asked, "this is intimate."

"You don't have to," you said, embarassed.

"Oh, I want to." His hand stopped trailing on your hip. "But I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me later."

His voice was laced with hints of vulnerability, you could hear it. You could see the way his head hung a little lower when he said that. You leaned up, placing your lips on his for a very soft, tender kiss.

"Eddie, I always feel the most comfortable when I'm with you."

And he couldn't even process the compliment. He kissed you again, casual, as if this wasn't his first and second kiss with his best friend that he's been crushing on forever.

He scooched his knees back so he could lay down a little, lowering his head to fall between your legs. He put a hand under your knee, lifting your leg ever so gently towards his mouth, looking at you like he expected you to pull away. But you said nothing.

He kissed the soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, above your knee. You watched him, the sight of him so close to your heat was unforgettable.

Eddie sucked a little spot, the purple mark left was small and shallow. He wasn't leaving them to be seen anybody else, and you could tell. But it felt so good and you didn't care, you kinda, didn't want to share. Eddie kissed a little higher, and did the same thing. And then moved... one kiss higher. And right when you were about to ask him to kiss you, really kiss you, he switched sides, repeating them same, slow, tantalizing kisses.

Meanwhile, Eddie was going fucking insane. Your leg was in his fucking mouth. Things would never be platonic again. He had to pretend he couldn't smell how aroused, and wet you were. Had to pretend he wasn't trying to rub his dick on the couch cushions just to get an iota of relief. It was his big performance.

"Eddie..." you said, and when he looked up at your big pleading eyes, the lust coming off you in waves, he knew.

This time, he didn't stop going higher, he trailed kissed all the way up your thigh, bit your hip unexpectedly to make you gasp, and then dove into your pussy, kissing where your pussy met your mound. Eddie was kissing you like this and looking up at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You moaned, the anticipation alone making you writhe.

He licked up and down your folds, letting himself taste and explore every inch. You were so wet.

He snuck his hand under his chin, teasing your hole with one proding digit. It slipped in, your walls wet, and warm, and tight, and the sensation around his finger nearly made him blow his load.

His tongue slid perfectly over your clit and you jerked, moaning sharply and bucking your hips into his face, the pleasure of it sending sparks down your thighs. He repeated the same move, using one hand to spread your lips open and take note of where he was touching. He was memorizing you. Memorizing each and every move that made you moan. He wanted to make you cum so bad. Wanted you to cum for him.

"Feels so good, Eddie."

Groaning at the sound of his name, he slipped in another finger, making you moan again. The slight stretching of learning someone knew was always your least favourite part, but turns out, you just needed Eddie. He made you feel good because he wanted to, he was happy to have his head between your legs, eating you out like he was starving, and with no promise of sex.

But you were pretty sure you were going to fuck him. If he wanted you, he could take you.

He sucked your clit again, and your walls tightened. He curled one of the fingers inside you gently, experimenting, and when you gasped, he continued on that spot, hitting it again and again and again while you got impossibly tight around his fingers, moaning and writhing like a fucking pornstar. He was so in love.

"I want to cum," you moaned, "can I? Please?"

You were asking him to cum. Eddie was dizzy. All the sensations, being squeezed, smelling you, tasting you, the delicious pain of you gripping his hair like you were going to fall... it was all too much. Too sweet. Too hot. Eddie bucked his own hips into the couch, desperate to be touched.

He pulled away just enough to growl, "you better cum on my face," and then dive back into his clitoral assault, kissing and licking it like it was the answer to his prayers.

Which really, it was.

And you came, loudly, moaning loud enough for the whole damn park to know what Eddie just did to you. Through every wave of pleaser, you and Eddie had your eyes locked on each other. This was what you really wanted. You didn't care about some prick, you cared about Eddie. It's always been Eddie.

You kept moaning as Eddie continued to massage and suck you through your orgasm, stopping only when you tried tugging him up to you. He held himself above you, letting you pull his face down to kiss him. All tongue and teeth, more desperate than anything. Eddie could love you after he fucked you. The way you looked at him, blissed out and still squirming your hips, he knew it wasn't over.

He thanked god it wasn't over yet.

"Go to my room," he said, kissing you again, taste of your sweet still on his lips. And evidence of your orgasm remained unwiped, glistening on the skin all around his mouth. You did what he said obediently, almost running to the room with him on your tail.

You started crawling onto the bed, putting your knees on the edge, but before you could climb on, a large hand pushed you into between your shoulder blades, making you land doggy style and exposing your ass and pussy to Eddie. He had taken his pants off, but really couldn't wait one more second. The bed dipped behind you, and you felt him pushing the tip of his cock against your unsuspecting cunt. You gasped, waiting patiently for him to do. The suspense of his dick slowly trailing up your folds without penetrating you was going to drive you crazy.

"Can I do it, baby?" he asked, running the tip up and down your sopping wet folds. He felt how tight you were against two fingers, he was going to be fighting not to finish fast, he knew that. "Please, beautiful, let me do it."

His dick hit the divet of your hole, and he groaned, stopping himself to wait for your answer.

"Eddie," you moaned, the feeling of him pressed against your core wasn't enough. You looked over your shoulder, glassy eyes begging for more relief. He could've blown at the sight of your cock-drunk eyes. And he hadn't even fucked you yet. "Please, fuck me."

Not wasting another second he pushed himself in, fighting playfully against the tightness of your walls. You moaned, shocked at how thick he was, but loving every second. You welcomed him in, pussy so tight and wet and fucking warm that he had to take a few deep breaths before he could fully push himself in.

He pulled entirely out, to slowly push entirely in a few times, taking his time to stretch you before doing anything harder. He said another prayer right then, a prayer that this wasn't the only time. He needed you, and you needed him. And you were already a moaning mess in his arms.

Once you were comfortable, he started really thrusting, keeping the pace steady. He had to close his eyes and take deep breaths again. Just looking at you while he hit it from behind? Too much.

Eddie slapped your ass once. And then finally looked down to see what it looks like. He loved watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you, your cheeks slamming against his abdomen.

"M-Maybe he'll see how-"

"Enough!" Eddie couldn't hear you bring up that fucking idiot one more time. "I'm gunna fuck that guy right out of your mind," Eddie grabbed one of your arms making your chest fall into the bed. He grabbed the other and held them both captive in one of his hands, and used his other hands to slap you on the ass, hard. He did it three more times, your moaning egging him on. But when you started moaning his name, repeating it over and over, he knew he had to get you there. He wouldn't last much longer, not with you intentionally squeezing your walls around him. He spanked you twice more more rough than the rest, followed by a smaller gentler tap. A small, good girl, without words.

Eddie squeezed your reddened ass cheek, as he hammered into you, but released to use his hand to grip a fistful of your hair, pushing you down deeper into the mattress. Your ass was up in the air, while Eddie fucked your pussy relentlessly. He was so deep, hitting parts of you that no one had ever touched. You wanted to praise him. You wanted to thank him for fucking you so good, and tell him how good you felt. You wanted to shower him with praises for fucking you better than anyone ever had, but the only thing that came out was a string of moan and unintelligible syllables of unfinished words.

But you didn't need to say it anyway, Eddie knew.

He could tell by the way your cunt squeezed him greedily, or everytime you caught his eye over your shoulder, glossy and pleasured, how he'd like to see you more often.

It was starting to ache how deeply he pounded you, when he suddenly let go of your hair so he could wrap an arm under you, and get his fingers on your clit. His body was pushed against yours even more, his dick staying deeper and repeatedly hitting a spot that was making you stupid. Eddie saw drool puddling at the corner of your mouth at the mattress, and your pussy dripped down both of your legs. He licked his lips at the sight. You unable to speak, drooling, moaning, and letting him have his fucking way with you.

"You're gunna cum," he said, a fact not a question. "All over this cock, fuck baby, you're so hot," Eddie was trying to keep it together but failing. He'd wanted this forever, and now that he had it, he wasn't going to last. "Are you gunna cum, baby?"

You nodded in his grip, but he held your hair tighter. He wanted to hear you. A strangled, "please," was what you managed.

"Good fucking girl, oh my god," Eddie praised, his fingers on your clit were softer in contrast to the deep pounding. The circles the rubbed over it were sensual, and hot, and going to make you explode. "Cum on my cock babe, do it." Eddie let go of your arms, and immediately they fell beside you, hands grabbing at the sheets pathetically. He grabbed one, and brought your own hand to your own clit. "And when you do," Eddie picked his pace up, gripping your hips in both hands now. "you're fucking mine."

It shouldn't have made you orgasm harder than you ever have in your life, but it did. The concept of Eddie owning your pussy all the time made you come all over him like he wanted, squeezing him so tightly that he couldn't help but bury it as deep as possible and coat your walls, holding your hips unwaveringly tight and pushing himself into you impossibly far to coax himself through his climax.

"Oh my fucking god," he mumbled, eyes closed and cock still buried deep inside you, twitching with sensitivity.

When he pulled out, you both moaned. You flipped over slowly, sitting upright on the bed.

"Eddie," you whispered, suddenly overthinking everything you just did. You couldn't lose Eddie, he was too important.

But he knew you. So he sat beside you, cooing and patting your hair. He kissed you on the cheek.

"Hey, listen," he said, scooping up a hand to hold and looking you in the eyes. His eyes were glassy from cumming so hard in you, but also filled with adoration and love. His gooey eyes could calm you from any state. Eddie encouraged you to stand, walking with you to the bathroom, hands locked tightly together. "I say we take a shower, make a snack, throw a movie on, and fall asleep. Hmm? How's that sound, petal?"

"Petal?"

"Pretty right?" He said, turning the shower on. "I figured I want something pretty, but not overdone. Babe is classic, but overdone."

"To call me?"

"To call my girlfriend," he said, you blushed but said nothing. He smiled. "Look, if you really came over here just to make some douche jealous that's fine, but... if you want me to love you, well, you already have that."

"I love you too, Eddie."

"Sorry it wasn't like, nicer." Eddie smiled at you, content to just be here with you. "For our first time, I mean."

You laughed, "no, it was perfect."

[bonne-chanson]

Hello! I’d like to make a request! It would be a fem!reader x Fukuzawa. I’d love something that shows the kind and gentle side of his character when he's with someone important to him. A light smut is fine; I really enjoy it when there's romance. Thank you!

a/n: wahhh thanks for being the first to request! i assume you’re also the other account im my inbox who requested for the same thing? :0 haven’t done this in a really long time (i’m talking years lol) so please bear with me if it’s still a little bland :< hopefully i can continue practicing my writing skills as time goes on! ACKKK i feel like this turned into a mild character study too so pls forgive me if this work isn’t the best :’( this is actually my first time writing for fukuzawa so i hope you still enjoy! ♡

softer steel

✑ character/s: yukichi fukuzawa x fem! reader

✑ short desc: beneath a dense exterior lies a vulnerability he can share only with you.

✑ content includes: fluff ; established relationship ; slight character study(?) ; mild nsfw (making out, MINORS DNI!) ; suggestive themes towards the end (not explicit, implied only) ; no plot, it’s really just reader and fukuzawa being mushy-mushy w/ one another

✑ word count: 1.1k words

Yukichi Fukuzawa is the living embodiment of the very same katana he keeps in the saya attached to his waist.

Much the same way a swordsmith crafts the blade so carefully to aid its master in combat, his upbringing had also molded him to be the warrior he is today — trained finely in one of the best government-funded martial arts schools, honed to perfect both his body on the field and his mind with battle strategies, and eventually layered enough to harden himself against whatever the world decides to throw against him and the armed detective agency that he leads. It is for those reasons that, of course, similar to the tamahagane used to create his sharp blade, he had quite the steely demeanor and personality, a direct result of the circumstances he had grown with.

But too sharp a blade and too pure a hardened steel makes for a brittle sword — one that, over time, when used with the kind of violence it was made for, will quickly shatter. Hence, the katana is also forged specifically to have a softer, much more vulnerable material enveloped by the denser steel, giving it the added strength it needs and rendering it malleable enough to cut through anything with the right precision.

For all that density his façade carries, just like his katana, Fukuzawa still holds onto that softness and vulnerability inside just for you.

You, who he holds so close and dear to himself, because you were the only person who could help him overcome anything by your presence alone; you, who balances out the harder shell he has grown over time with your softer presence; you, whom he looks after like you are the most precious gem he could ever hold in his hands; and you, who is always there to greet him when he comes home, allowing him to let go of everything even just for a while within the comfort of the walls of your home, all because your warmth and your love put his oh-so sharpened mind at ease.

Coming home to you today is no different. Per usual, he slides his haori off his shoulders and folds it neatly, placing it on a nearby table for now, releasing a long-held sigh from his lips, and eventually making his way into the safety of your arms.

That softness beneath his steely demeanor only ever surfaces around you, his beloved, and it’s something you never cease to cherish.

“Yukichi,” you call, his head resting on your chest as you thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture feels so light and loving, a stark contrast to the heavier blows he performs with his blade in battles.

He says nothing, simply responding to your call by pulling his head away (much to his disappointment) to face you, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand, calloused by the many hours of practice he spent in his younger years. For the briefest moment, he soaks in the feeling of your breath mingling with his own before his lips gingerly place themselves on yours and the sound of your breathless sigh is swallowed by him.

Wandering fingers make their way into his hair again, playing with his silvery strands, every so often giving them the kind of tugs you know he likes. No matter how many times you pull away to take in another breath, he comes forward again and again to capture your lips, and his hands eventually roam to hold your hips, drawing you closer to himself. It was almost as if he wanted the heat of the moment to melt you both into each other, unknowing of when breaths are taken and where one action ends and another begins until your breaths are in sync and you both mold together into one.

Those same rough, calloused hands of his that hold you so tenderly guide you along, eventually laying you down on his futon, and when he lifts his head to catch a glimpse of you all flushed and breathless, he makes a silent promise to himself to hold you in his heart forever, to remain vulnerable inside just for you.

A hint of a smile graces your lips as you hold his cheek and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand.

“You’re a lot more affectionate today than usual,” you muse aloud to your lover, but your voice remains a hushed whisper simply to keep the atmosphere of the scene between you two as serene as it is.

He smiles down at you, holding the hand that cradles his face. “Is it so wrong of me to indulge in my love for you like this?”

To many others, Fukuzawa was a man who held himself with the kind of grace and authority that every fellow leader could acknowledge without hesitation. But right now, on his futon, with you beneath him, the quiet ambience of the rustling leaves, the mellow glow of Yokohama’s sunset through the open window and the breeze caressing your faces, he was simply Yukichi, your Yukichi, the man whose heart was as soft as the steel enveloped by the dense blade of his katana.

“Stay with me like this,” you murmur, eyes hooded as his lips near yours again, “just for a little longer…”

He takes his time with you, making sure your comfort comes first before his own. Feathery light touches combined with peppered kisses along your jaw and the skin of your neck, down to your collarbones with his lips tracing your chest dizzies you, and when his hands slowly pull at the obi wrapped around your waist to loosen your yukata, you are a goner. The gentle caresses of his fingers along every little scar and mark on your body and his honeyed words meant for your ears only make you fall deeper in love, and you can’t help it — your heart is as soft as he is for you, so time becomes nothing more than numbers on a clock when you both allow yourselves to indulge in one another for the evening, to let him take care of you in ways only he knows how.

And as you both melt together in each other’s arms, embraced by the warmth of the setting sunrays, he is reminded yet again of just how valuable it is for him, for any man for that matter, to hold onto his vulnerability under his harsh exterior, for a katana to be forged with milder steel inside its tougher shell.

Yukichi Fukuzawa’s past, the circumstances he had faced then, and the rest of the world may have hardened his demeanor, but the softness that lays inside that steely façade still exists and will continue to exist only for you.

a/n: given the large influence of the samurai on bsd fukuzawa’s character and background in martial arts (considering his real-life counterpart was born into a family of samurai), i thought it would have been fitting to try and incorporate that in this work. :} that being said, i’ve listed down some of the terminology that may be worth explaining / i’ve done a little research for. please correct me if i am wrong!

✑ katana: traditional curved blade. this is the weapon fukuzawa chooses to fight in combat and was a sword used by the samurai. if you want to watch the process of making one (as referenced in this work to explore fukuzawa’s character), click here!

✑ saya: the sheath used to hold the katana.

✑ tamahagane: the steel used to forge a katana.

✑ haori: traditional jacket that fukuzawa wears.

✑ obi: a sash worn with the kimono (in this case, a yukata).

✑ yukata: a lighter, more casual version of the kimono, which fukuzawa also wears.

[eclipsecrowned]

BLOG MOVE!

Long overdue, blog has become a complete mess, Hoping to enter 2025 with some more positive energy by being able to pre-empt blocking some real freaks out there who like to lurk on my page and a better focus on ic!

What this is going to look like:

Fresh transfer to a new blog, though I will slow drip in what people would prefer be transferred over*. Mild rework of muse page to remove muses that no longer or never generated interest. A tighter focus on what sparks joy for me as much as for my partners bc tbh i got kind of exhausted being 'the x person' or not feeling that all muses were regarded as equal in different fandoms.

Timetable:

I'm going to spend the next few days I have off doing the heavy lifting of actual coding/aesthetics/test posting, and so on. Over time, I will be finalizing my carrd to have more in depth information for all muses, as well as the easy-access mobile muse page for people who just want it short or sweet. I also intend to ensure each muse has a fully functional tag system before moving bc these same named bitches w a tbt appended are killing me. Is this Charlotte from B*rserk or Charlotte from Debede? Shut up past Kadi I'm going to kill you. This hopefully means I will be fully ready to go in early-mid January if not a little sooner. For now, I will still be semi-active/lurking here just grabbing everything I need, and will let you all know when that changes.

What's coming with me:

Dynamics/Ships

Headcanons

Most of you hopefully!

Probably most muses

Most fandoms, with a few greatly expanded character-wise

Any threads people want me to transfer*

Any IC or meta asks people want me to transfer*

*The focus at the start is on just setting a new daily writing habit, which means I will likely focus on new threads and asks to start. However, I don't intend to totally abandoned some threads that have been plotted or even just interest me. The main point is that I will put those on the back burner until I can give them the focus and energy they deserve. If there is a thread or ask you want on rotation moving forward, please fill out this form so I can hold on to it :D

If you 100% want to remain mutuals the new blog like this post and I will follow you once it's identifiable as mine/not a bot.

[eilaafterhours]

Take a Picture [Grim | Casper]

Content: AFAB Reader, Lingerie, Men in Lingerie, Banter, Nude Photos, Dom/Sub Undertones, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Smut, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember:I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You and Casper had a very active sexual life. Once he was here, and once you had your hands on him, well—Simply put, the two of you got your fill of each other, and yet it was never enough. 

This, however, was new to the two of you, and you're very interesting on learning just how this thought got into Casper's head.

You ran your fingers over the mesh fabric, then paused as they caught onto some loose ribbon. A smile slowly crept across your face. 

"Prefect..." A wonderful plan had devised itself, and you were absolutely ready to enact it. 

All you had to do was hold out and wait your turn.

Which proved to be harder than you imagined. 

After you had put the outfit on and did a little bit of dolling up, you exited the bathroom. Of course, you knew that he'd also be dressed up—that was the whole point of this. 

The outfit was simple—so very simple. It was a black halter dress with an open back and very high slit on both sides, the thin straps of a black thong peaked through the slits, and you added a black leather garter belt for one of his thighs. 

But gods, you always seemed to forget just how beautiful Casper really was. 

The black contrasted his pale skin, making his skin glow (and glitter? Did he use your shimmer mist?). Especially at his thighs and curves of his hips, both the thong and garter belt, hugging the flesh nicely.

You bite your lip. How could you last with this in front of you? You wanted to take him right now. Ruin him just like you know he wants, and then take your pictures. Actually, maybe you could—

"Sunshine?" He called, snapping you out of your deprived thoughts. "Are you already thinking of throwing in the towel?" One of his fingers found the waistband of the thong, pulling on it, then letting it snap sinfully against his skin. "I know you're trying really hard."

You narrowed your eyes at that.

Big talk meant big action in this household. And now the two of you had reached the climax: seeing just who would break first. 

And you'd be damned if it were you.

You smiled, making your way to him. "I'm fine, but—" Your hand ran through his hair, exposing his red ears. "You'll never be able to hide from me."

And then you were gone, pulled away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'll even let you go first—put me how you want me, Casper." 

He took a deep breath as he picked up the camera. 

"On your knees, lean back on your hands, stick your chest out." His order was succinct, and his tone left no room for any more banter. You did what you were told, adjusting yourself as he commanded. 

Click! "Ass up." 

Click!

Then he hesitated, his eyes flicking away from you. "...Lean up against the headboard, spread your legs and..."

You knew where he was going, but you wanted to hear him say it. So you waited, playing with a stray loose thread. 

"And spread your cunt."

A spread through your body. You were expecting pussy—not cunt. And the way his voice deepened had your cunt clenching.

You adjusted yourself a bit, finding a more comfortable position. Then your fingers glided down to your pussy and—

"You act unbothered, and yet your pussy drools for my cock."

You squeezed your eyes shut, legs slamming shut. 

You heard him chuckle. "That won't do." He moved closer, leaning down next to your ear. "Open or I'll get something to keep them open."

His warm breath sent a shiver down your spine that had you close off more, but when his hand tapped your thigh, you did as you were told, finally spreading yourself like he wanted. 

"Eyes on me." Your watery gaze met his unwavering one.  

Click!

You breathed a sigh of relief, removing your hand and letting your legs fall shut. 

That was...a lot more than you were expecting. 

Being the good partner he was, Casper was at your side. "You did so good for me."

"I know." You nuzzled into him. "I just forgot how intense you can get..."

He pressed a kiss against your cheek. "Interesting that you say forgot instead of admitting that you enjoyed it."

"I mean, I did, but…" There was not "but". You liked it, and he knew it, and know that he knew for certain. 

You'd be in a lot more trouble down the line. Oh well, that'll be then and this is now. 

And now, it was your turn. 

You started off easy. Your first picture of him matched your own first picture.

Click!

For the second, you had him move to the end of the bed, and pull the skirt of the dress to the side. Which exposed his very prominent erection and small wet spot.

You smirked. "You look ready to bust—you're already leaking! Do you think you'll be able to hold off until you get inside me?" 

He huffed. "...of course." So the answer was maybe. 

Well, it was no, but he didn't need to know that. 

"I mean, I did, but..." There was not "but". You liked it, and he knew it, and know that he knew for certain. 

You'd be in a lot more trouble down the line. Oh well, that'll be then and this is now. 

And now, it was your turn. 

You started off easy. Your first picture of him matched your own first picture. 

Click!

"Pull the thong to the side."

He raised a brow. "That's it?"

You nodded. 

"I don't trust you." But did it regardless, hissing as the fabric brushed over the head of his cock. 

Click!

He blinked, obviously caught off guard by the sudden flash. 

"I wasn't ready!" He frowned. 

You smiled at him, moving closer. "Yes, but your face was so pretty. I couldn't help it." You dropped in front of him, "How about one extra picture?" You held out the camera to him.

"...you are insatiable." And yet he still took the device from your hand.

"You're one to talk." You flattened your tongue and licking from the base to the head. "Make sure to get a good shot. You've only got one." 

You were going to play with him, maybe edge him a bit, but he was reached his release quicker than either of you expected.

You at least had some sort of warning, though. 

"Wait fuck—!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as hot ropes of cum splattered across your face. You took a moment to catch your breath, ready to stand up and clean your face, but—

"Open your mouth. Wide." You weren't expecting him to speak, just take the picture and be done with it. But then something hot and heavy was placed on your tongue, and you knew why.

Click!

You gave him one last good suck before pulling off him with a pop. 

"Seven Hells...you will be the death of me."

"My head game's so strong it'll kill you? Damn." You tapped his thigh. "Now, help me to the bathroom, please."

And that was supposed to be the end of it, but of course it wasn't because it was never enough. Somehow, after helping you clean your face, he placed you on the counter, shoving the camera (of course he brought it in here) into your hands bullying himself between your legs, and returned the favor tenfold. 

He made you squirt. Your juices sprayed him, his clothes, the counter and ran down the cabinets. And then he lifted his head up, giving you a full view of his soaked face. 

Click!

This one was your favorite.

"Fuck me..." You swallowed harshly, placing your hands on your shaking thighs. 

"Should I be worried? Was I that good?" He said it casually, cleaning his face, as if he didn't give some of his best head on record. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Fuck you."

"Actually," Casper pulled off the counter, easily sliding you on his waiting cock. "I'd rather fuck you."

You whined, head hiding in his neck. "S-sensitive..." But that didn't stop you from rolling your hips. "You owe me a picture."

"Of course, of course." You knew that tone, he was plotting. 

Oh well, it wasn't like you also weren't doing the same thing. If he wanted more pictures, he could have him.

But you'd also get what was yours.

100% if anything else needs to be tagged, let me know because I've just been released from the haze of this work.

Anyway, I saw these

and they made me lose my fucking mind and I had to stop writing another piece to write this one.

AND THEN I GOT POSSESSED BECAUSE UMMMMMM WHAT IS THIS

DON'T ASK ME, I DON'T KNOW.

Masterlist

[prommytheus]

i love apollo and i love his ominous implying that he’s going to take advantage of his sick leave go do something deeply illegal to solve (and avenge) clay’s murder, but the way that got executed ingame was that he didn’t do anything. they. they cut off his plot thread entirely. because they needed to write him out so that nick could take the spotlight. even though it’s apollo’s trilogy. “it’s your story now apollo” MY ASS jkaksjdkjd

i think phoenix returning to law is fun and has a lot of potential, im very fond of his cute lil suit and his dlc case. but the final case? the final fucking case??? phoenix should have just weirdgirled. or better yet- peaced out of the main plot to go on a rage fueled excursion to the space center to FUCKING KILL AURA for holding his fucking daughter hostage. also miles im glad you’re back but wh. why are you prosecuting this case. why would aura choose you of all people. how much do you know anyway

….i dont really have a closing argument for this. i guess my point is that i fucking love aa5 because it introduces so many cool concepts, characters, and plot threads—

—and i also fucking hate aa5 because it drops all of them without hesitation to put those red and blue fuckers back behind the benches and then kill a man for shock value.

[threelionsgirl]

karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

[oneatlatime]

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

[chaifootsteps]

hb could have actually worked Stolas in to the 'Blitz needs to believe people can love him so he won't die alone' plot without it being so disgusting and yucky

OK so hear me out - everything plays out the same up to Ozzie's

then in s2-4 instead of doing The Circus and making Stolas the main character, we stay with Blitz. if S1 was about who he's hurt in the past s2 is the point at which he begins trying to mend fences, but actively instead of the writers just forcing him to do it because he realized in Ozzie's he doesn't like how things are now

have the 'crashed Moxxie's anniversary' actually pay off with M&M being frostier than usual and Blitz being afraid he's about to lose them too. have Loona be annoyed when Blitz is overbearing when she's trying to make new friendships and accidentally sabotaging them with his over-protectiveness

have it be a story of Blitz simultaenously trying to make it up to people from the past (not all of whom forgive him) while he's trying to avoid repeating the same mistakes in the present with his new family

have the circus accident be more directly his fault - maybe he's practicing a stunt to win his father's love and causes the fire that way, even though he obviously didn't mean to

and have him begin to be emotionally vulnerable in small ways and he feels it pay off when others respond in kind instead of mocking or hating him like he fears. Trash 'Oops' as an episode but keep the emotional beat of Fizz forgiving him being the turning point for Blitz forgiving himself a bit, too, because Fizz's forgiveness is the thing he's secretly longed for during the entire show (next to Barbie's, who should also get vastly more screentime). have arcs to handle each of the main cast and flesh out IMP first and foremost

then as he begins to heal and treat people better, return to the Ozzie's plotline. have it be a thread throughout s2 of following Blitz's perspective of the fallout, not Stolas'. Show how confused he is by what Stolas is doing and why he's so happy to avoid him for those months off. have him make small comments to the people in his life about how deeply unhappy Stolas makes him and have them actually notice, because Blitz hated himself so much before he just rationalized what was being done to him as something he deserved

have the full moon argument play out as-is, but instead of what happens during apology tour, have Blitz think what he needs to do is apologize to Stolas to complete his character growth and love someone. Except make it clear to the audience that he has nagging doubts about all this - especially when Stolas pulls the 'I can't believe you didn't ditch taking your daughter to the doctor's office to come save me despite sending your employees to help because I fundamentally don't value your family or your time' card

And then right when it looks like he's about to cave and give Stolas what he wants - he doesn't.

He tells Stolas now he's learnt to love himself and he has people in his life again who've proven to him that he can be cherished and his worst self won't be rejected so long as he puts the work in to make things right when he screws up. He tells Stolas he used to think the owl was the closest thing to real love he could ever have - feeling used, abused and degraded. But he knows better than that now and he isn't about to let a pompous self absorbed royal bully him into being the perfect consort he wants. He goes further than that, even, telling Stolas he was bought to be his friend and pitied him from the start - and even now he wouldn't trade places with him even if he could

Because Blitz has rebuilt his life by looking in the mirror, holding himself to task and trying to be better. Meanwhile Stolas - who has had every advantage Blitz hadn't and could have chosen every step to do things differently - has actively pushed away both Via and Blitz with his 'never my fault, promise to do differently while getting worse all the time' behavior

Then Blitz walks out of his life for good, because now he has regained a sense of self worth he can see that he deserves better than the "love" Stolas was offering

and the one person he does apologize to, besides Barbie/Fizz/Moxxie/Verosika/etc? Striker. He apologizes for calling him a supremacist (still happens in this rewrite but as a sign of how hard Blitz is trying not to think that Striker has a point about Stolas) and that he isn't interested in fighting with him any longer

And Striker just responds with a smile, because he knows it means what he hoped all along would happen, has happened. Blitz is finally free from Stolas - and when he's ready he can move on to a love who respects him instead of just wanting to use him

I want this. If we can't have this in canon because Viv is Viv, I'm glad we have it here and now.

[shoujophobic]

Beetlejuice and Civil Servitude: How Suicide is a major factor, but also isn't. (cw and sequel spoilers.)

I saw this post (by an anti) on Twitter, which made me mildy annoyed, but inspired enough to discuss this topic in my own, miniature thread.

And while I agree Otho is a con artist not to be trusted, of all his words these are the ones that were are actively shown to be, well, true. Especially through the sequel.

Miss Argentina says to the Maitlands, "This is what happens when you die," before stating that when she died she was put into a place of Servitude, and holds up her wrists. This implicates directly that her cause of death directly influenced her afterlife. This is even further proved by Juno, who has a slice in her throat, assumed to be by her own hand, and once again proving that Otho's words are in fact... truth.

But that's all in the original source: what about the Sequel?

Well, this is where the concept of Suicide and Civil Servitude gets confusing. Not that this actively proves the original theory/concept as false, but actually puts perspective on how terrible the afterlife actually is, and that it's just as corrupt as the living worlds method of life.

Beetlejuice was Juno's apprentice at one point, and he now works on his own through freelance. He still remains a servant to the dead, regardless of how he does it. But his actual cause of death as revealed in the flashback sequence in the sequel is that he didn't kill himself... Or did he?

We have to break down what the afterlife actively counts as self termination. Beetlejuice may not have intentionally killed himself, but he did willingly drink a mysterious liquid given by his newfound bride. And the afterlife clearly doesn't play fair already with its bias against those who are struggling—So his death was counted indirectly. This is also seen in Wolf Jackson, who died performing his own stunt. He willingly put himself in a dangerous position, but didn't mean to actually die, and yet, it was still marked as a suicide by whomever rules the afterlife.

So we can already discern that suicide, wether intentionally or not, will always land you in this position. What makes it more interesting is this little detail (credits not mine, unsure of the origin of this ss):

The news paper covers this unfair fact. Suicide, in the afterlife, is counted as any death caused by oneself, regardless of their being poisoned, in an accident, or genuine means to die.

So what is the point of this thread? Really, it's to further prove lore we already have, but expand on it and the facts we get handed.

Also, to dissect the Netherworld itself, and how it's not meant to be a perfect afterlife, but rather a neutral, means to an end. There is no heaven nor hell, but there's also no fairness. The afterlife is just as dull as life.

I think this should also explain why Lydia's deceased husband, Richard, was in civil service, despite having no motivation to kill himself. The reality would be that he didn't, but his death was ruled as one anyways due to the set of circumstances in place. But why wouldn't Delia also be counted? That one... I don't know. Likely to prevent the plot from stopping, but also possibly that because deaths are finally being looked at fairly, and that accidental suicides, aren't marked as such.

[the-kr8tor]

TTN hobie and reader where reader is back from LA and hobie is showing her his spider powers. I think it would be interesting to see r’s reaction to seeing them irl and not just on a tv across the other side of the world 😭

Also I can’t remebr my exact wording of my requests from when I wrote them the first time so I hope these match up well with the ones from before 😅

-🕊️ anon

Thank you for another TTN request! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, FLUFF.

Thread the Needle Masterlist

TTN oneshots

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

"Have to tell you somethin'" Hobie suddenly pipes up while you two are comfortably cuddling on the couch, watching some action movie that you've grown to actually like despite the crazy plot and mid acting. He hasn't been paying close attention to it, how could he when his secret gnaws at the back of his head?

"Hmm?" You look up from where you're resting your head on his chest, hand splayed over his abdomen where his shirt has ridden up. He doesn't mind that you're basically groping the muscles underneath since he's doing the same thing to the soft skin of your hip.

The TV's light shines on the side of your face, he takes you in, inhaling sharply, Hobie cups your chin, getting your attention. "Need to tell you somethin'" he emphasizes.

"Okay" you sit straight at his sudden serious tone, different from the flirty tone he sported a few minutes ago.

"I'm Spider-Man"

"Oh" you hold your chest in relief. "I know, Hobs" your voice is full of affection and fondness for the man before you, holding and kneading at his shoulder blade in an attempt to calm his fast heartbeat.

Hobie's eyes grow wide, he watches you in awe for figuring it out. He lays his forehead over yours in relief, relieved that you took the revelation well. There's always that gut feeling from Hobie that you've always known, you chose to wait for him to tell you himself. He's grateful for you, for waiting and staying with him even after keeping it a secret from you.

You can't blame him though, he just doesn't want you to worry. Love does that sometimes.

"And here I thought you would scream in surprise" Hobie pulls away, heart eyes staring back at his best friend.

"Do you want me to? I could still do that" you inhale like you're readying yourself to yell. Hobie lets you act surprised, your voice echoing out in the dark, louder than the TV's volume. "O.M.G!" He rolls his eyes with a smile. "You're the Spider-Man? The same one from the telly?! Oh the act of betrayal the backstabbing hurt"

You put the back of your hand over to your forehead like a silent film actress in distress. "Hobie?! The same Hobie that I've loved since childhood is a vigilante?! Oh my word! How could I not foresee this?!" Cupping his face for emphasis,"oh! My heart!" You act better than the actors on the screen, earning a deep laugh from Hobie.

"Alright, got it. You figured me out" Hobie stops your oscar worthy performance with his hand covering your mouth.

You lick his hand in retaliation. He snaps his hand back, wiping your drool over the blanket spread over your laps.

"I know you, Hobie. The second they got footage of you I knew it was you. I mean, you were wearing the vest I made you!" You chuckle. "I know every stitch and indents on that bad boy" poking his chest, you sigh, catching your breath.

Hobie smiles, "still, should've told you sooner. Didn't want you to worry"

"It comes with the territory of loving you, can't avoid worrying about you all the time." Your heart clenches at the thought of him getting horribly injured. "Back in L.A everytime the mail's late I worry, everytime I see you on the telly swinging, beating the crap out of a would be villain, I worry. That's my job and I've accepted it the moment I fell for you."

Hobie holds you tighter, listening in with bated breath. "Spider-Man's a part of you, and I love every bit of you. I won't stop you from doing it, just come home to me every night. That's all I ask. I'll support you however I can"

"That's all I need," Hobie pressed a heavy kiss on your lips, you barely felt the single tear rolling on your cheek. "Love you"

"Love you too." You sniff, peppering his cheek with numerous kisses. "Thank you for telling me" you snuggle deeper by his side. He replies with a kiss on the crown of your head. "Because I've got some suit ideas that I've been holding on to for so long!"

You stand in awe, eyes still staring at the remote in his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that, but I can try"

"Yeah? You've got sketches of 'em?"

"Yep! I'll just shut the telly off and I'll show it to you properly" you stand up to grab the remote from the coffee table. Hobie beats you to it, aiming his hidden webshooters from under his sleeve, he webs up the device, bringing it towards him.

"You'll love this then" Hobie webs up your waist, you twirl around until you land on his lap. He catches you swiftly as you get acclimated from the dizziness.

You laugh giddily, "Heard you can stick to walls too" holding his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Hobie squeezes it thrice.

He guffaws, slotting his face right on the crook of your neck. "I'll show you everything"