#also also thank you for this prompt it was SO

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

taglist:

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@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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[satyricplotter]

keep on melting my paradigm (you're like candy)

pairing: jason todd x reader word count: a conservative 1.2k im extremely proud of thank you rating: mature warnings: suggestive language, vore-adjacent musings? reader is a little intense also. notes: i've had half of this on my drafts since that chapter of the juni ba dami story came out sjdfs it's a bit weird. title from this gay ass song.

"Do you think I'm creepy?"

Jason hums, hands flexing on the fabric of your jeans. He has an arm slung around your waist, thumb threaded through the belt hoop at your lower back. The other hand rests on the side of your thigh, and this you feel slide just a little as he ponders his answer.

"Pretty sure I wouldn't have you on my lap if I did," he says.

His eyes are closed. They have been ever since you climbed atop him, hands roaming over his face, neck, shoulders. His head thrown back against the swell of the couch's cushion, chest rising and falling in a serene cycle. You brush the tuft of white hair at his forehead back—if you can really call the motion that. It's cropped so short nowadays, there's not really much to brush back. But you relish in the feeling of it poking against the pads of your fingers, a newness to accompany a well-worn habit. You continue to scratch your nails against his scalp. Jason hums, huffs a little. You feel the vibration of his chest against yours. The afternoon stretches slow and syrupy, golden sunlight swallowing you both in and out of shadows. An uncharacteristic idyll broken by your particular neurosis.

"You might," you say. "You people are severely lacking in self-preservation."

"You people..." He repeats, quietly. Amused. Raises an eyebrow but doesn't open his eyes. "You mean the recently dead, or the murderous?"

"The running at night with a cape crowd, rather."

"I don't wear a cape," Jason points out.

"Of course you don't. You've watched The Incredibles."

"Number five on your extensive list of superhero media, if I recall correctly," he says, dryly. He opens his eyes slowly, gaze sharpening on you immediately. A milky grey, almost white—stunning. So stunning. You never tire of him. He jolts you out of your daze by literally jolting you, raising his knee abruptly so you careen further down his lap and clamp down on his shoulders with a yelp. You scoff, he laughs.

"C'mon." He squeezes your waist. "Out with it."

"I fear my fascination with the more... outlandish aspects of your appearance is disrespectful to you," you blurt out.

Immediately, you flush, avert your eyes. Jason has an incredible ability to dissect you open, sink his hands into you and rip out whatever you're trying to hide from him—all with some simple prompting. You hadn't meant to say the truth. Particularly because you know it's silly. You can see it in his face, the way he barely holds back from pulling a face you will most definitely resent. His consideration is heartwarming, considering he doesn't pull his punches on anyone else.

"You worry... about the weirdest shit," he says in the most annoying tone of wonderment. It makes you feel silly—which you are.

"I'm serious," you whine. "You have to take this seriously. What if I'm fetishizing your weird eyes and scarred body?"

"And my big tits?" He ventures.

"And your big tits," you agree.

"And my fat cock?"

"And your—you son of a bitch." You slap his arm as he guffaws. "Be! Fucking! Serious! This is a serious concern! It could be bad for your self-esteem!"

"I don't think you should be worrying about my self-esteem while hitting me. What if my arm falls off? Why don't you worry about that?"

"You're so insufferable." You roll your eyes. "You've been shot before. You can survive some light slapping. Now get with the program. Am I a creep or not?"

"Because you like me?" His eyebrows crawl up his forehead, a little sense of unease settling onto him. "Is it wrong to like me?"

"What? No, of course not!" You exclaim, frowning. "You're great."

"Sure," he snorts. You got a bone to pick with the incredulity, but now's not the time. Jason relaxes back into the couch in the meantime, the grip on your hip loosening. "Then what's the issue. You just like me. Simple as that."

"So much, Jay," you confess, too absorbed in making your point to feel embarrassed about it. "I like you so much. Too much? I feel like if I told you exactly how much, you'd be weirded out by it."

"Not really," he mutters. The hand on your waist slips up to rest at your nape, thumb pressing on a divot at the side that makes you shiver, burrow yourself closer. You drag against him, semi-hard all afternoon underneath you, which is all he wants, and exhale with shaky fortitude.

Jason cradles the back of your head, slowly opens up your neck to him. His lips are sweet as they mouth your pulse point, his breath hot and wet where he kisses. Sure and steady hands hold you in place, big and rough even through the layers of clothes. You want them on your skin, roaming your body. Wanna feel the jagged edge of every scar catch on your every groove and curve. He does this daily; this is no foreign feeling. Jason takes you on lap and holds and kisses you on the regular, and yet, though one may suppose it to be so, no tedium penetrates this daily ritual of affection. As ever, you feel alive and grateful and intoxicated.

You're wrong, Jason, you think dazedly, eyelashes sticking together with the dampness of your eyes, this can't be normal.

Every kiss from Jason is an attempt to suffocate you. His hot mouth closes in on you like a bruise, and you melt into the brute strength, because you, too are voracious. You bite at his lip, feel the sharp jab of lust stab through you at the accompanying grunt. At once you feel the heavy weight of desire and possession build up inside you. He makes you greedy, and selfish, and dangerous. You wanna punish anybody that has ever hurt him, and lock him up so nobody can see him but you, and beg on your knees so that he may never leave you, and it is all ugly and messy and undignified.

"Stop thinking," he rasps, half-pants into your mouth. You try not to whimper or follow after him when he breaks away, presses his temple against yours. He doesn't get it. You don't think he ever will. It's a loving gesture all the same. Your fingers curl on the hem of his shirt.

"I want to sink my teeth into you," you mutter against his cheek. So solid, so warm. Sticky flesh like a babe's. My love, my love, you chant.

His voice is hoarse. "Do you?"

"I think... if I could... if you let me..." You slip down to nibble at his ear, blood pounding on your own. "I'd eat you alive. Bite by bite."

Momentary silence. Bated breath. His skin under your teeth.

Jason laughs. He holds you closer. "Are you sure?" He sounds so playful. "It'd take you a while. There's a lot of me, after all," and this he punctuates by canting his hips up, grinding against you.

"Ugh," you huff, abruptly gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself. He sure knows how to keep you off track.

Maybe that's enough. Maybe he doesn't need to understand. Maybe he just... knows. And accepts it. Your terrible, unbearable love.

You nuzzle against him, cheek to the underside of his jaw. Press a kiss to the juncture of earlobe and jaw, then think better of it and go a little harder, alternating between sucking and pressing your tongue soothingly over the spot. It's something of a slobber, but his fingers tighten on your waist appreciatively.

"I've got time."

Jason smirks. "Then let's get started."

[livelaughlovesubs]

I do NOT trust my reading comprehension especially when it's for requests like this buttt.... If you a are taking requests, this is for your anniversary event!! Prompts are: dressing then up in degrading outfits, and showing them off as a trophy to their coworkers. Guess who's character this is for... Drum roll please....! 🥁🥁 Of course it's Scaramouche 😁. Now Imagine him wearing those cat ears and like a tail that's actually a plug and black panties that barely covers anything and a matching bra... Making him wear that in front of the other fatui harbingers at a "party" reader hosted and fucking him in front of them, and instead of moans he's forced to meow instead...

(This might be one of the wildest asks I've sent buttt whatever 🥰)

-scaralover

OMG AKSUAKJAJAA I HAVE LITERALLY NO CLUE HOW TO WROTE THIS LOGICALLY BUT LETS GO

Dom!reader x sub!Scaramouche

Warning: cosplay (?) - degrading outfit, a tiny bit feminisation (cuz of the outfit), exhibition (a little), pet play, a tad manhandling

Anniversary event

All this misfortune that has befallen him, all this shame that was going to come in the near future, for all of this he’s got no one to blame but himself.

After all, it was his choice to be a brat, no?

That’s why he has to live with the consequences of his actions, accepting any punishment no matter how humiliating they’d be. And you had just the right one in mind. You’ve been planning this party for the harbingers for a while now, so why not grasp this opportunity to both put him in his place and to show off? Which is why you told him you’ll have to think it through, and will announce his punishment in a few days.

On the day of the event, you invited yourself into his room, holding a bag in your hand. A sense of horror flashed through him, he knew exactly why you were there, since he remembered what you told him. “…y/n, you can’t seriously be thinking of punishing me today, right? The party’s today as well.” He hesitated, hoping he didn’t just put ideas into your head. But knowing you, he doubts that’s the case, you obviously approached him with ulterior motives.

“How sharp of you~ that’s right, I’ve decided on your punishment.” You handed the bag to him, winking, then explaining, “wear this under your coat, yea?” He frowned at you, then looked down at the fabrics and blushed. Cheeks turning red as he furiously looked up, ready to yell into your face if not for the fact that you were already gone. “Y/n-!! You- fuck!” What was he supposed to do now? Never ever would he wear something like this, to a damn party! With his colleagues present!

Never, that’s what he thought, but disobeying your punishment was also not an option.

Fine, if it’s just under the coat, then… no one had to know, right? It’s a little risky, but it should be doable. So with lingering hesitation, he put on the little outfit you picked out for him. A pair of black lingerie alongside a set of cat ears and tail in the same colour. How lucky he was to have his hat, the tail could just go under the coat and the ears hidden beneath his hat. He put the costume on pretty quickly, and stared at his own reflection. Disgraceful and perverted, that’s how he looked, it reflected your taste.

A few hours later, the chattering of people echoed across the huge halls of the building, signalising the arrival of the guests as well as marking the start of the event— of his misery. Scara saw many people all circle around you, the harbingers separated in smaller groups and scattered around the hall. You were standing on top of the stairs, holding a glass in one hand while smiling brightly. He soon joined the crowd, inching closer to you, getting into the first row. You were just saying some welcoming speeches, greeting all of them and thanking them for their attendance.

What he didn’t expect was for you to invite him to the front once you were done. Most of the guests clapped when you told him to come closer, and he felt pressured to obey, clutching his thick coats with shaking hands. “Thanks for the applause everyone. As all of you know, this is Scaramouche, the Sixth of the harbingers, care to tell them something about yourself?” You grinned, as if you were showing him off to the crowd.

In return he scoffed, saying this was childish and about to get down from the stairs. “Wait a sec,” you said, holding onto his hat in an attempt to keep him from escaping, accidentally knocking it off. He couldn’t even yelp before surprised gasps erupted from the audience, and he didn’t need to guess to know why they all had that reaction. “Y/n! Look what—” before he could throw a punch at you, you wrapped a hand around his waist and pulled him close, stripping his coat from him, revealing the second part of the costume.

“You- shameless bastard! Fucking pervert!” He trashed around in your arms, blushing and shaking while trying his best to peel your arms off. Due to him moving around so much, you dislocated his bra, and you smirked to yourself knowing he out on the cute outfit you picked out for humanity. “Right, I also wanted to let ya’ll meet my new pet. He’s a little feisty and he bites-” someone from the background chuckled and laughed, you also caught a few of your other colleagues rolling their eyes.

“I’m not your fucking pet!” Scara yelled, and he almost immediately regretted it. “Doll, need me to bend you over and fuck you in front of all of them for you to remember your place?” You didn’t mind others hearing your loud whispering, and you were sure some heard. He gulped, and looked…. aroused? God, what the hell- how comes the thought of him getting messed up by you in front of all these people didnt even sound so bad? You gave him a second of cool off, then said, “so scara, the only thing I want to hear coming from your pretty little mouth is ‘meow’.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes widened when he realised just how humiliating that’d be. The puppet’s gaze flicked around the room for a second, taking in the silence and anticipation from the preying eyes. The other harbingers are watching, to do something like that, isn’t that too shameless? “You understood, scara?” After you basically demanded an answer from him, he fought with his own pride to battle what was more important.

In the end, he bit back his curses, glaring at you one last time, slumping forward before muttering an almost inaudible, “m-meow..”

You smirked, “so you can be a good kitten after all?”

[sinofwriting]

Firsts - George Russell

Words: 386 Word Prompt: Firsts

Masterlist | Support Me! | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

George when he had first met his girlfriend hadn’t expected for her to change his life so much, but he was more than thankful for all the changes she and her son, their son, Harry had brought.

They were both just unbelievably wonderful. He had never been so in love, his breath still catching every time he saw her. And the warmth in his chest every time Harry saw him and cheered or smiled, seemed to just grow.

“He got so big.” George says, feeling a little sad as he looks at Harry. He’d just been gone for a few days, to the factory, while they went to her parents and he’d come back Harry having gone up a shoe size and just a bit taller. She circles her arms around George’s waist, leaning against him and he happily holds her. “I know. He’s growing like a weed.” She then sighs, “Also, a new development has happened.” “Oh?” “He’s interested in using the toilet.” “He’s not even three.” “That’s what I said! It feels much too early. But apparently I showed an interest before he did at that age and your mum was telling me that you were the same way.”

Warmth fills him and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“Has he tried yet?” She shakes her head, “he wants his dada to teach him. I’m not allowed.” Tears prick his eyes at the words. Maybe it’s stupid to be getting teary-eyed over being asked to potty train Harry, but despite only being with her for a year, being in Harry’s life for a year, he had still missed so many firsts of Harry’s. And every time he gets to experience one, no matter how big or small, it always makes him tear up a bit.

“I guess him and I will do a little guy's trip tomorrow, pick out a potty seat he likes, yeah?” “Yeah, and I know he brought it up, but if you can pick up some of those gold star stickers, poster board and markers, so he can get rewarded.” “Of course, love.” He presses another kiss to her head.

“Thank you for giving me this.” He whispers a moment later, the both of them watching Harry play with his legos. “Thank you for loving us.”

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Weekend Loving

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader

Word Count: 1500

Summary: The perfect way to combat a cold rainy weekend in autumn is by cuddling and keeping warm together.

Warnings: Fluff, Cuddles, Oral (Fem), Smut, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Cursing, Andy’s beard is a warning, Quote: “If you only knew the things I want to do to you" & Prompts - cuddling in front of a fire & cuddling on the couch during a cold rainy day.

A/N 1: thank you to @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo for beta reading this. Also thank you to @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N 2: This is for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork & @yenzys-lucky-charm autumn writing challenge.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It was a cold rainy day in autumn and you were thankful it was the weekend. Both you and Andy had today off which meant one thing cuddling on the couch with a fire going. The fireplace in the living room was currently warming the room thanks to Andy’s quick thinking of trying to get you warm fast. You watched the rain pour down against the colorful shades of leaves on the trees. Autumn has to be your favorite time of the year. 

You wore leggings, fluffy warm socks, and a long-sleeved shirt. Andy came down the stairs dressed in his gray sweatpants and henley. He was built with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His eyes were cerulean blue and his amazing beard made you clench your thighs together.

You were on the couch with a large blanket covering you. It was big enough to cover the both of you while cuddling. Of course, if you had it your way you would wrap yourself like a burrito in the blanket and not share with Andy. 

Andy loved weekends like this where you could spend quality time with one another and relax after a long week at work. Whether cuddling under the blankets or spending time between your legs Andy always considered himself a lucky man. 

After a few minutes, Andy came shuffling into the living room ready to get warmed up. He kissed your forehead and made his way under the blanket. As he gets settled, you whine as he stretches out behind you. Bringing your body against his chest.

“Mmmm… you're so warm, babe.” You try to cuddle closer, your butt rubbing against his crotch causing him to groan into your neck. 

“Keep doing that and you’ll be in trouble, Mrs. Barber.” He seductively whispers against your neck, stealing a light kiss while his beard scrapes against your skin.

“Trouble is my middle name, Mr. Barber.” You rub up against him again but this time you can feel his erection. He lets out another groan as he adjusts his sweatpants. You turn to face him as your hands roam down his chest to his sweatpants.

“If you only knew the things I want to do to you, sweetheart right here on the couch.” 

“Enlighten me.” You whisper against his lips before you give him a quick kiss. 

He grabs your hips and does a dirty grind against you. Pushing you onto your back he climbs on top of you keeling between your spread legs. He pushed the blanket briefly off the both of you and pulled your leggings and underwear off. You squealed by the roughness of his hands on you but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Andy then pulls you into a sitting position and peels your long-sleeved shirt off. You shiver from how cold you feel but instantly warm as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Every nibble and soft bite has you gasping in pleasure. Andy pulls away with a pop and uses his fingers to roll your nipples. You start to let out little gasps and he stops abruptly making you whine.

Andy stands and pulls the henley off revealing his body you swore was sculpted by the gods themselves. Seconds later he pushed his sweatpants and boxer briefs down his legs revealing his hard, thick cock. He smiles down at you as you stare at him, taking in his nakedness. Grabbing the blanket he covers you both up as he kisses his way down toward your wet pussy. Reaching his destination he kisses your inner thighs and rubs his beard against your core. The roughness from his beard has you whimpering until you feel his tongue lick a stripe through your folds.

“Fuck, Andy!” You moan out as you feel another pass of his tongue. Your hands grip the blanket tightly as he makes another pass through your folds. 

Andy buries his face in your pussy, licking and gently suckling your clit. Your breathing hitches every time he plays with your clit. The more he takes you apart the louder your moans get. You feel Andy’s fingers run through your petals getting arousal all over them. He pulls back his face for a minute and slips his fingers inside of you. His mouth is now focused on your clit as he swirls his tongue around it and gently plays with it. You can feel yourself getting closer to your release the faster his fingers work you. Making a come hither motion sets you off as you cum screaming his name from the pleasure he just brought you. As your body twitches from the aftershocks of your orgasm, Andy climbs back up to your face and kisses you. You can taste your release on his lips and tongue. 

Your tongues dance together in a sensual kiss, both fighting for dominance but it is Andy that is taking over. His kiss is passionate and he groans against your lips while he grinds his hard cock against your wet pussy. You wrap your legs around his hips and roll your hips against him. God did he feel amazing against you. Before you can do anything else Andy sits back on his legs as he forcefully turns you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips for him Andy runs his hand over your butt and smacks it causing you to mewl. Grabbing his cock he strokes himself a few times before he sinks into your cunt. The thickness of his cock stretches you in all the right ways as he slowly starts to thrust into you.

“Oh…my… feels so good baby.” Your hands are holding onto the cushion below you as Andy slowly takes you apart. 

Andy picks his pace up and starts to piston his hips into you over and over again. Skin slapping against skin fills the room while the fireplace continues to keep you both warm. He continues to thrust into you harder and faster as you moan his name to the heavens above. Now and then he slaps your ass causing you to push back into him hard. Andy can’t help but groan as he feels your walls flutter against his cock. He loves the way you feel around him and taking you like this sends a primal groan through him. 

“Fuck…baby…fuck…. Take my big cock.” He groans out as you squeal with every piston of his hips. 

Your hand moves to your clit and starts to rub it to the pace of Andy snapping his hips. His thick cock plunged into you so hard you swore you could see stars. You’re a mess, a moaning fucking mess for him. You feel like you’re going to cum any minute now. 

Harder and faster Andy snaps his hips against you. Just as he feels you start to flutter against him again he pulls out of you and then rolls you to your back again. Before you can say anything he grabs your legs, throwing them over his shoulders and sinking back into you.

“Andy. I’m so close…” You rake your nails down his chest causing him to groan out. His hips are starting to falter at the pace he is keeping up. Your walls start to flutter and tense around him again as you chase your high. 

With a swipe of his right thumb against your clit you are moaning his name again as you finally fall off the edge into eternal bliss. Andy feels your walls grip him tightly as he now chases his high. A few hard thrusts and he is cumming deep inside you. He groans your name a few times before he finally is spent.  He gently moves your legs back to the couch and all but collapses on you. His forearms are keeping him from crushing you under his weight. You smile up at him with a blissed-out grin and he leans down to kiss your lips. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too Andy. With all my heart.”

Andy gently pulls out of you and goes to the bathroom to clean himself off. Once done he brings back a wet washcloth and cleans you as well. He throws the washcloth into the washer and comes back over to the couch. Grabbing the blanket he lays beside you on the couch and holds you close to him again. With the fire still roaring to life you sigh as you are now warm from both the fireplace and Andy taking you apart.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” you whisper to him as you begin to yawn. 

“Forever my love, forever you and I,” he whispers back. 

Andy kisses your head and snuggles closer to you. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have these moments with you. Thanking the lucky stars above he cuddles you close as the rain continues to pitter-patter on the windows. It may be cold outside but it is warm inside their home. 

Taglist:

@americasass81

@astheskycries

@awesomerextyphoon

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[deliciouskeys]

I threatened to write something for Butchlander week and well... I have written, uh, something. *skulks back into the abyss*

Written to accompany this wonderful art I commissioned from @semains whom I love dearly-- thank you for indulging my requests for setting and exact pose as well! Commission them!

Butchlander Week NSFW Saturday prompt: Roleplay/Roles. Because it might be the role of a lifetime for Butcher, but you know Homelander is having the time of his life pretending he can't escape / pretending it hurts sooo much.

(yeah, double dipping) Cozy Corner Kinktober prompt #5 Buttplug (sort of. I can't explain myself. I have no excuses. It might be disturbing, so apologies in advance. Pure Id, aka wtf).

My header is getting longer than the ficlet, gdi

"Harder." Homelander's tone is haughty and whiny all at once–  so grating that Butcher wishes he could deliver on the request. Who'd have thought that this grandiose straightedge little cunt would get so hard having a stranger smack him over and over? Who'd ever guess that this supe celebrity– maybe the world's most famous person, and definitely the darling of the American public– would be into this kind of shit behind closed doors? That he wouldn't be bloody ashamed of himself whisking Butcher off to his bizarrely decorated apartment every single night.  Bypassing all of Vought security, so that Vought's public enemy number… if not #1 then at least top 10… could make himself comfortable sitting on his bed. Not all that comfortable, since the bed is a strange upholstered leather number and stiff as hell, but Butcher supposes a supe might not feel the difference between this and a Tempur-Pedic.

He brings him here every night, and every night the script stays largely the same. Homelander plies him with some alcohol, sometimes a glass of whiskey, but more often just a bottle of Heineken. Butcher sits down, Homelander eagerly drapes himself over his lap, pulls and folds his cape underneath him, as if he doesn't trust Butcher enough to spread it out next to him. wiggling his hips, insisting Butcher pull down his pants and spank him. And Butcher obliges every time, even though it's clearly hurting his hands much more than it hurts Homelander– they alternate sides every night but Butcher suspects he already has stress fractures that don't heal because his hands ache all the time and never quite recover between sessions. But despite the pain, and despite the very little to no pain he's actually inflicting on the spoiled brat who always asks to be hit harder, there's just something irresistible about it. About finally being allowed to take out his aggression on the man he hates most in the world. The man he hates most in the world, who also happens to have a surprisingly perky ass that jiggles hypnotically if you hit it hard enough and just right, so Butcher hits him with his full strength not because of the cunt's whiny demands, but because he just wants to see the flesh wobble.

"I said harder!" Homelander's voice cuts through Butcher's thoughts, and Butcher can't help it any longer.

"You want me to hit you harder, you're gonna have to find a paddle."

Homelander's breath hitches and he says nothing in reply. No, this sick cunt clearly craves skin on skin contact to get off, Butcher already knows this, which is why he knew what to threaten him with to get him to shut up.

But he does wish he could hurt him. The achy joints of his hand plead he stop. Butcher stares down at the well defined muscular globes, skin turned a nice blush color where he's been hit but Butcher wishes he could turn it black and blue. Purple and green. He wants the cunt to really feel the intensity he's supposedly asking for, just to prove how wrong he is.

"I'm waiting," Homelander reminds him.

"Just taking a breather, alright? Enjoying the view." Butcher tries to squeeze a handful of flesh, but it's never as soft as it looks. "Look like one of 'em marble statues you got out in your lounge area."

Butcher hears Homelander's breath hitch and sees him take a peek at the mirror above, clearly checking himself out. This is all a game to him. It flatters his vanity that Butcher does this for him. Butcher would like nothing more than to turn this around on him, make it less of a game and more of an actual punishment.

A strange idea creeps in. Butcher leans back to reach for the Heineken bottle he emptied earlier and put on the nightstand, always on a coaster Homelander insists he use. God forbid he get a water ring on the antique looking furniture, with the creepy little cameo portraits of people who died last century. The beer is mostly just to take the edge off before Homelander lies down over his legs– he and Homelander mutually figured out the session goes better if he's slightly buzzed and maybe just a little numb to the pain in his hand. And they figured this out because Homelander happened to whisk him away right after he stumbled out of a bar on a late Saturday night, after which point Butcher understood that Homelander would come and find him wherever he was– even if he wasn't at home past midnight. It's sexual slavery, is what it is. Butcher would resent it more if he didn't somewhat enjoy getting to beat this cunt on a nightly basis before being dropped off at home.

Homelander shifts, growing impatient while waiting for another round of spanking to start after the breather. "Come on!" he says through gritted teeth, and he sounds angry, and fucking self-righteous, as if he's complaining about customer service he's paid for. It's not Butcher's fault that the cunt only seems to come after he's gotten spanked for minutes straight, at some point his body finally deciding that this is such an enjoyable moment that his hips start grinding forward into Butcher's leg and he comes, the same pathetic little hitched moan escaping his lips every time, the same toe-curling Butcher can see because the cunt does take off his boots to lie on the bed. Thank god he never pulls his pants far down enough, because he never gets any jizz on Butcher's jeans. Homelander seems to think Butcher doesn't notice, or at least they both pretend they haven't. As if Butcher can avoid noticing his leg being humped violently, wondering if this is the night the cunt breaks one of his limbs out of pure excitement. As if it's not clear what just happened from the flushed face and glazed over eyes the supe has when he rises off the bed, finally satisfied. But if no one tells and no one asks, it didn't necessarily happen, and both seem content to keep it at that. Homelander takes a quick shower and suit change before dropping Butcher off at his apartment, without any further ceremony or pleasantries, and by morning Butcher is half in denial about any of it even happening.

"Are you fucking deaf? Why did you stop?" Homelander says and starts to turn his head to look back at him, but Butcher shoves his face back to face forward. 

They have an unspoken agreement not to look each other in the eye when they're doing this, ever. Homelander almost broke the agreement, but obediently looks away again after the lightest push.

"Shut your fucking trap already. I heard you the first ten times just fine," Butcher growls under his breath, and his mind is made up about what he was hesitating to do. He forces the neck of the empty bottle into the cunt's tight crack, moving it around, looking for give.

Homelander's back arches, clearly not expecting the sensation. "The fuck are you doing?"

"GIving you something harder, like you were whining for, you spoiled brat." Butcher gives up doing it blindly and pulls one of the cheeks towards him. "Now where's your fucking chocolate starfish? You even have one?" And as if to punctuate that last word, Butcher finds the place and  breaks the initial resistance resistance, the bottle neck beginning a slow slide in.

Homelander breathes harder. "I don't like it," he mutters, and his ass flexes in protest.

"You better like it and accept it, or else you're going to end up with a pile of glass shards inside you."

Butcher is skeptical that glass could really do anything to this supe's internal organs, but it seems Homelander wants to avoid the mess anyway, and his muscles relax.

"That's right. Now stop whining and take your punishment."

He tries to push the bottle in even further, feeling more and more protest.

"I don't like it," Homelander repeats, sharply this time, as if it means something.

"You ain't supposed to like it," Butcher says and decides to finally smack him on the ass with his other hand after keeping him waiting. Butcher doesn't anticipate that Homelander's body will convulse, shatter the bottle, grind into him, and come all at once.

"The hell was that?" Butcher asks, pulling back the jagged bottle's bottom half that survived. Homelander's body is still twitching underneath him and he's panting. Maybe this was going to be it. Butcher overstepped the line. Homelander was probably immersed in some unresolved childhood trauma or fantasy or whatever the fuck about having a father figure who would discipline him with a firm but loving hand. This must have ended the illusion for him. Maybe enough that Butcher is about to meet his end– sometimes it's hard to remember that the whimpering quivering pathetic mess draped over his knees is the selfsame terrifying force of nature that can take out an entire army if he ever just chose to do so.

But the cunt won't even pick his head up. He's buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Is he fucking crying? Butcher wonders for a second if it's possible that he's actually fucking done it. Actually hurt him. Maybe a plug of C4 won't kill him but maybe it'll make him feel the hurt? A whole assortment of images races through Butcher's mind. He wants to try everything now. His crowbar, a bat studded with rusty nails, maybe the same bottle but a Molotov cocktail this time. Payback for thinking he can just force Butcher to indulge him, to make every night about getting him off. This opens up a whole new world of possibilities.

But Homelander stirs and starts to sit up, and Butcher winces and his teeth are set on edge when he can hear the crunching sound of glass grinding against glass, and tiny green shards start dropping out of him as Homelander tilts to sit back on his heels.

"That was— amazing…" Homelander whispers, breathless. His hands are folded demurely in his lap as if he didn't just orgasm to being diddled with a bottle of Heineken. "You want another beer?"

"No!" Butcher says, sounding more emphatic and more disturbed than he intendedto let on. "No, you sick fuck."

"Does your hand hurt?" Homelander asks, and it's without any impatience in his tone, maybe even a note of real sympathy, completely ignoring the insult just lobbed at him. Before Butcher knows what's happening, Homelander leans down and licks the hand that had just been spanking him. Butcher jerks it away defensively, but Homelander follows it licking it, laving each finger with his tongue before leaning into it with his brow ridge, then his nose, rubbing himself into it. It feels soothing and takes away some of the sore feeling, Butcher is loath to admit.

But he needs to regain what little control he has in this arrangement. "You want me to pet ya? Then lie back where you belong," he says. It's gratifying to see the supe cunt immediately obey him. He stretches himself back into his former position, and Butcher kneads the flesh of his ass.

"We can do the bottle again if your hands hurt," Homelander says, sighing contentedly and breaking the rule– looking back at Butcher with a look that is disturbingly similar to fondness.

"We can," Butcher agrees, trying to ignore the glass that's spilled out on the sheets and forget the crunching sound the bottle made when it snapped in half at the neck.

[grandline-fics]

Hiiiiii

I am absolutely smitten and in love with your work omg

Can I request a Mihawk x F!reader where both of them are just chilling and reading books while each of them steal glances of love and admiration from the other without knowing, and mihawk showing his soft side admiring his love leading to them eventually locking gazes its all fluff and cuteness ifk I just crave fluff with this man 😓

DESCRIPTION: Stealing glances with the other until caught

WARNINGS: fluff

CHARACTERS: Mihawk

WORDS: 642

A/N: Thank you for the fluff request with Mihawk! It's something on the shorter side but I hope you're happy with what I managed to come up for this.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

Mihawk is no stranger to silence. If anything he’d view it as a friend. It’s calming for him to sit and be at peace and revel in the stillness when the noise of the day has finally subsided and he can retreat into his sanctuary. The silence was easier to obtain before Cross Guild’s founding but in a way it was so much more rewarding to get it now. Because now, the silence also comes with added indulgences he never got to experience when completely alone. From the other end of the sofa he heard the soft turn of a page. His sharp gaze subtly flickered away from the book in his hand, his attention stolen by you once more. Mihawk had lost count how many times through the course of the quiet evening that he’d looked your way without your notice. 

There you sat, your back against the armrest and feet tucked underneath you. Your eyes slowly roved over the words in your book, lips curved ever so slightly as you let yourself become immersed in the story. It didn’t matter how many times a day Mihawk looked your way, whether in keeping eye contact with you through conversations and stolen glances like these the reaction was always the same; his usually cold and piercing stare was softened and warmed as he took in every little detail in your features and expression, just taking all he could of you and your presence. Mihawk had never thought such a thing would happen for him and for every day you’re with him, even in the calm silence, he drew every possible moment he could and savoured it like the finest wine. Quickly he dropped his gaze back to his own book, his need to steal a look at you sated for another while. 

The minutes passed and you slowly dragged your attention away from your book when Mihawk stretched out to prop his feet up on the end of the coffee table in front of the sofa you were both sharing. Carefully you looked him over with a growing smile, unable and unwilling to stop how happy you became each time you glanced at him. Even moments like this were so precious to you, neither you or Mihawk needed to be talking to get the most out of your time together and you counted yourself lucky because very few you knew had yet to experience that sort of security and peace for themselves. Especially in the constant chaos of the Big Top, it was no easy feat but you and Mihawk always found a way.

Suddenly you paused when Mihawk’s stunning gaze flickered out at the corner of his eye and locked on yours. From the way he blinked and slowly turned his head to look at you, it seemed he hadn’t expected to find you staring at him. Mihawk’s lips turned up in a small but still powerful smile while you beamed at him, the butterflies in your stomach that never seemed to leave even after all your time together fluttering gently.

Mihawk’s position on the sofa shifted slightly, his body turned just enough to face you while his arm set itself on the back of the seat in an invitation for you to come closer. You wasted no time in drawing yourself closer to now prop your back against his waiting side and stretch your legs out towards the cushion you’d previously been sitting on. When you were settled, Mihawk dropped his hand to rest it loosely against your side. With a content sight you opened your book again and began reading while Mihawk did the same while lightly resting his chin against the crown of your head. Now in this position it meant that if either of you were to try and steal a glance the other would know instantly.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

[writingquestionsanswered]

Is it okay to use generators to help you start writing or to give ideas? I see a lot of writers on other platforms bashing them and saying that by using them you are not a real writer.

I use them because I personally feel like I'm not that creative, and it gives me a vague start to go on.

Thank you, and I really love your blog!

Using Random Generators for Inspiration

It depends on what you actually mean when you say "generators." Random Generators - Random generators have existed on the internet for years and years and years. Some popular ones are Fantasy Names .com and Seventh Sanctum .com. These use predefined options that were created by someone who is offering them up for the express purpose of writers using them as prompts, inspiration, and ideas. These are absolutely fine to use, are used by even seasoned writers, and in no way undermine your validity as a writer.

Generative AI - Generative AI is relatively new on the scene and includes things like ChatGPT and Notion AI. These use data that is scraped from other sources without permission from the creators. In other words, the ideas and text isn't generated by a person who specifically put it there for your use, but is instead stolen from other writers who did not give anyone permission to use it.

To be more clear, it's the difference between someone saying "here are some ideas you can use" versus someone saying "here are other people's stolen ideas you can use."

Needless to say, the use of generative AI is extremely controversial, as it should be. We're not talking about robbing from the rich to feed the poor. We're talking about robbing from the poor to feed the poor. Many MANY creatives work around (and sometimes overcome) challenges to their work without resorting to theft from other creatives. And when creativity is something that even creatives struggle with at times, lacking creativity is not a good excuse for stealing someone else's hard work.

So... if you're using random generators for plot ideas, setting ideas, character names, etc., that's fine, and many writers use them. But, if you're using generative AI, you need to really think about what you're doing and why you feel entitled to using ideas stolen from other creatives.

In the meantime, here are some resources that can help you boost your own creativity:

Guide: Filling Your Creative Well Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Character Development Exercises Writing Exercises to Help You Become a Better Writer Want to Write, Can't Come Up with a Plot

Also, some great random generators:

Fantasy Name Generators Seventh Sanctum Chaotic Shiny RanGen DIYMFA WriterIgniter Plot Generator Writing Exercises.uk

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[vodika-vibes]

Awesome job on hitting 800 you deserve it! I love the fall theme, my birthdays in the fall! Could you do Pumpkin Spice with Alpha-17 pls?¿ maybe on the premise of going out for a few drinks at the bar which turns into a few more than intended liquid courages and things get spicy (lol) which turns to an unregretful, unashamed oopsie daisy morning for the two of you?

Pumpkin Spice

Summary: A night at the bar between two friends becomes something more.

Word Count: 985

Prompt: Pumpkin Spice

Warnings: Implications of drunk sex, but no details

A/N: Thank you! And thank you for your request! I hope you like this one! I'm also going to preface this with I don't drink because of medicine I'm on, so I'm kinda flying blind here.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Are you drunk already?” Alpha-17 grins at the smaller woman sitting next to him, her head is resting on the table and her glass is still half full, “You didn’t even finish one drink.”  It wasn’t even a lot of alcohol, Alpha is pretty sure that Pumpkin Spice Ale is more sugar than anything else.

“Kriff you,” The table muffles her voice, and Alpha doesn’t bother hiding his amusement. She already knows his personality, after all.

“I can’t believe that you asked to come drinking with me and you didn’t even finish one drink,” Alpha replies with a grin on his face, “You need to get out and drink more, little lady.”

“Ugh.” She finally lifts her head and glares at him, her face is flushed from the drink and Alpha chokes back a laugh with difficulty, “Little lady? Really?”

“Well, you’re little. And you’re a lady. So the title fits.”

“Everyone is little compared to you,” She grouses, “So sorry I’m not built like a karking tank.”

Alpha lifts his bottle to his lips, “Hm, skill issue.”

She glares at him again, and then lowers her head to the table again, “You’re obnoxious.”

“And here I was going to offer to walk you home.”

She turns her head so she’s able to look at him, “What’s the catch?”

“You have to make me caf.”

“Ugh. Just leave me in a ditch somewhere. It’s where I belong.”

Alpha rolls his eyes and finishes his bottle before he sets it on the table next to her head, “You’re so dramatic.” He stands and presses a hand between her shoulder blades, “Alright, pretty girl. On your feet.”

She groans but sits up and peers up at him, “Will you carry me?”

“If I carry you, you’ll have to pay me in something sweet.”

“Deal.” She holds her arms out and Alpha rolls his eyes before he turns around and allows her to hop up on his back. She buries her face in his neck, “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you live close.”

Luckily, she really does live close by. It’s not even a ten-minute walk from the bar to her apartment, though the walk is long enough that she falls asleep on his shoulder.

Alpha has to nudge her awake as he arrives at the apartment complex, and she digs a key out of her pocket and drops it in his hand. “What am I, your butler?” He grumbles under his breath, though he does unlock the apartment door and steps into the cozy apartment.

He unceremoniously drops her to her feet and then shuts the door behind him.

“Rude,”

“You owe me caf and snacks.” Alpha pauses, “And you need some water and snacks too.”

She huffs, “I’m not that drunk.”

“Sure, you aren’t. Do me a favor, stand on one foot and press your finger to your nose—”

She sputters indignantly, “What are you, a cop?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I should kick you out without caf,” She threatens, her eyes narrowed, but even as she says that she’s heading into the kitchen to start the machine. 

“Don’t forget to drink some water,” Alpha says as he walks into the kitchen after her and drops onto one of her stools.

“Yes, Mother,”

Alpha watches as she does as he instructs, and a small smirk crosses his face, “So it looks like you can be obedient when you feel like it.” She pauses for a moment, and then she makes a face and continues sipping her water.

As soon as the cup is empty though she crosses her arms and glares at him, “I’m not obedient.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m always in control.”

“Oh, naturally.”

Her scowl is more of a pout, “I was going to drink water anyway, even if you didn’t say anything.”

“If you say so.”

She points at him dramatically, “You’re very annoying!”

“Thanks, it’s my superpower.”

“And-and-and,” She stumbles over her words, “You need to stop talking.”

Alpha tilts his head, a small smirk crossing his face, “Make me.”

Her lips crash against his, and he tugs her so that she’s straddling his lap as he deepens the kiss. She tastes like pumpkin spice, and despite her insistence that she’s always in control, she surrenders to him as soon as his tongue slides against hers.

Her nails scrape against his scalp and Alpha groans. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to her jaw, “How drunk are you?” He won’t go any further if she’s still as drunk as she was at the bar.

“I’m sober enough,” She counters stubbornly, catching his lips with hers and dragging her hands down his chest.

And, well, who is he to argue with that?

The following morning, Alpha wakes up with the sun. His pretty girl is tucked against his side, sleeping peacefully. Though she is covered in bruises from how tightly he held her last night, and from his teeth, she doesn’t seem bothered by it.

Alpha considers her for a moment. Does he have any regrets about last night? Honestly, no. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

She stirs against him and releases a whine of dismay, and then peeks up at him, “Alpha,”

“Hm?”

“Will you make me caf?”

A startled laugh falls from his lips, “I’m a guest in your home, you’re supposed to feed me.”

She whines again, and Alpha lightly drags his fingers down her spine, making her shiver and press closer to him.

“Hm, any regrets, pretty girl.”

“Regrets are for other people,” She replies immediately, and then she flushes, “Jumping you was always the eventual plan, I just needed some additional courage.”

“Good to know.” Alpha tugs on a strand of her hair, “So, caf and food, and then round two?”

“I think it’s technically round four.”

“Details, details,” Alpha leans down and kisses her, “Get up, pretty girl. It’s time to start the day.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@cdblake1565

[inspiteofganon]

UUEGAHAHAHS I ADORRE UR ARTSTYLE if ur the mod of the ask blog. such pretty shapes and pleasing to look at... i adore how u draw ganondorf and twinrova... hard to express the joy i get while seeing it thank you for ur service

Thank you!!

Updates go a little slow because the entire thing is hand-drawn on paper with pen and ink, and then I have to scan and edit everything in between having a time-consuming real-life job (I'm also gonna be trying to do some prompt-based October art challenges this year, so there's that for the next month too)... and me also drawing non-askblog LoZ art regularly for fun in the meantime so I don't get burnt out...

Glad it makes you happy-- hoping I can keep it going for a solid while!

[ryuichirou]

how would the TWST boys react if they were chosen by the cat distribution system and a stray cat choose them to be its cat dad?

Today I decided that it’s time to write about something delightful lol I keep smiling every time I remember that we have this ask in our askbox… Thank you for waiting, Anon! I’m sorry it took this long.

Maaaybe I’ll write more hc posts next week… I try to write at least two per week, but there are so many good prompts that I should probably try to do more.

Anyways! Once again my bias is clear because I am a poor soul that loves cats but doesn’t own one, so spoiler alert: all the boys end up loving cats as well lol But I think it’s fair… How does one not like cats? Don’t ask Ciel.

Riddle – his first instinct is to refuse poor cat’s attempts to hang out because his mother never let him own a cat: they claw furniture, they bite, and Riddle has allergies! Or… he thought he did. He didn’t get any reaction from the cat, so maybe that was a lie?? Anyways, he would melt almost immediately because a fluffy creature wanting to be his friend is something that Riddle always wished for. He loves animals and taking care of them, so there is no way he is letting go of that cat! Of course he has to get used to it because a cat would never follow any rules, and sometimes it would get frustrating for Riddle, but… whenever a cat wants to play with him or cuddle with him, Riddle giggles like the happiest kid in the world. No one is allowed to pet his cat without his permission.

Ace – he will brag about it a lot. He’ll take the cat everywhere and always have it either on his lap or on his shoulders. He’ll always talk about just how much the cat purrs for him and him only, and how cool of a person he is because the cat clearly chose him specifically to be his owner. The cat really does like him a lot, but it doesn’t mean that Ace doesn’t get scratched or bitten all the time lol Also, at some point it will become the freshmen’s cat that everyone takes care of a little, and Ace would start to constantly remind everyone that this is in fact HIS cat!

Deuce – aw, he would probably be a little awkward at first. He strikes me as someone who is more of a dog person and doesn’t have much experience with cats… He would be very careful around it, as if he isn’t just afraid to hurt the cat, he doesn’t even want to offend it somehow. Of course he would swear that he’ll take care of the cat and be very responsible about it! But it will take a while for him to take it inside the dorm; he’ll just feed it and hang out with it outside at first… until the weather gets too cold.

Trey – he would have this “why me though?” vibe to his reaction, but he would still be kind of happy. Maybe he shouldn’t have fed it, now it follows him around everywhere… Trey says that this isn’t really his cat, but keeps taking care of it anyway. He never expected to be this delighted to have a cat. He would get much more into it than he expected, to be honest. He’ll probably feed it with home-made treats and give it toys that he made himself…

Cater – OF COURSE he’ll start taking selfies with this cat. OF COURSE. After some time he might even make a separate account for the cat, to see if it would surpass his follower count. Other than that, he would cuddle the cat a lot, talk to it, play with it, dress it up all cutely and meme-y. I think it would be very good for Cater to own a cat… He needs to learn how to take care of it properly though, so some assistance might be necessary lol

Leona – would he even care? Maybe a little bit, but he would act like he doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t even know who the fuck this cat is, it just appeared suddenly and now lives in his room. It can stay or leave, doesn’t make any difference to Leona. In actuality though, on some level he does appreciate the companionship of another cat sleeping next to him or on top of him and grooming his ears. But only when no one sees it or comments on it. He could chat with the cat btw, but he just doesn’t – for the most time they hang out in silence.

Ruggie – another cat to take care of?? And also, another mouth to feed?? Well that can’t be helped, it’s not like he is going to throw the poor thing away. I think he will manage to train it to do all kinds of tricks, like stealing stuff from others’ pockets or sneaking things away for Ruggie… the cat will be his partner in crime lol He would also probably have conversations with it, since it’s easier for him to talk to animals.

Jack – not only a dog-person, but also literally a dog, so he might have a hard time at first understanding that cat’s behavior. He is probably going to act like he isn’t interested at first, but jokes on him, because this only makes the cat more into him. He will literally sit all alone, radiating “don’t talk to me” aura, and the cat would think that this is exactly where it wants to sit – on Jack’s lap. Even though Jack is a tsundere, he is going to warm up eventually… and even while he is in his denial phase, he will take care of the cat by keeping it fed and letting it inside when it’s cold. Speaking of cold, Jack is very warm, so the cat loves him a lot…

Azul – “I don’t have time for this” at first, with all the reasons why having a cat is a bad idea popping up in his head at once. Similarly to Riddle’s mom’s mantra: it ruins furniture, it causes allergies, it sheds, it doesn’t behave… but he would also break very quickly, probably the moment the cat starts rubbing against his leg or purring at him. Azul would probably make quite a drastic 180 degree turn and enter his “a cartoon villain with a cat on his lap that he pets menacingly” phase by the end of his first day with the said cat. It feels good. It feels correct to pet a fluffy purring creature while you’re humiliating someone who is indebted to you. Also, of course he is going to treat the cat like royalty and get it all the best things… and also train it like a dog at the same time.

Floyd – people would think that he isn’t responsible enough to own a pet, but actually a cat would probably be the best pick for him. At first he would get all excited because this little buddy just suddenly decided to hang out with him. Floyd would just suddenly start appearing everywhere with a cat on his shoulder like he is a pirate or something. But then both the cat and Floyd would lose interest in each other, until they meet again and decide that they want to hang out again lol But while Floyd and cat are together, he takes it everywhere, plays with it a lot, races with it, cuddles it, smooches it, throws it in the air and catches it. Some of Floyd’s games aren’t the best for the cat, so Floyd ends up getting scratched and hissed at quite often, but for some reason the cat still adores him enough to let him do anything with it, even hold it upside-down.

Jade – it’s easy to picture him being a cat-lover because of the Sebastian parallels lol I think he would really enjoy owning a cat, and he would make it everyone else’s problem. Just like Floyd, he would walk around with a cat on his shoulders, but he would always mention it: please don’t mind my cat, he just loves me very much. I hope you are not bothered by my cat’s presence, he won’t bother us, I swear. Also, I think because Jade would actually try to properly take care of the cat, he would encounter some unpredictable issues, like a cat refusing to eat certain cat food or eating something it’s not supposed to eat. Jade would have a couple of moments that would make him fuss over it and even though he wouldn’t enjoy it… he likes the unpredictability. Keep chewing on random things, cat! But not too much, please.

Kalim – he would be so happy and excited!! It’s like making a friend, but a new kind of friend, a very fluffy one! Kalim is probably way too cuddly for the cat’s liking, so sometimes he would get confused by it running away from him. He just wants the cat to be happy… he would buy 5 cat towers, 30 toys and a bunch of cool accessories for the cat during the very first day of owning it (then he’ll buy more)! And 10 beds, so the cat could pick whichever it likes most (it sleeps in Kalim’s bed of course)!! And of course he will ask Jamil to learn how to cook delicious meals for the cat. He would try to feed the cat his own food first, but of course would stop once he learns that the cat shouldn’t eat spicy food…

Jamil – another one who would think that he doesn’t have time or energy to take care of another thing at first, but would warm up very quickly. He would tsundere up a bit when Kalim says that he is happy that Jamil has a little fluffy friend now, but after a while he will realise that Kalim is kind of right… a cat is even better than a friend. Hanging out with it doesn’t take as much energy, in fact, Jamil feels very energised after petting it and playing with it. Wow… a cat would do wonders to Jamil’s psyche…! He would both cuddle with it and let it sleep in his bed at night, and play a lot of active games with it whenever he has time for it.

Vil – despite how busy he always is, I think he would accept the cat immediately. The cat clearly chose him – it’s only fair that it’s Vil’s responsibility to take care of it now… I don’t think Vil has a lot of experience with cats, but he would read a lot of books and articles to make sure that the cat lives a good life in his dorm. He wouldn’t be as excessive as Kalim, but… he might have gotten carried away with the stuff that he got for the cat. But all of it is very necessary! The best cat food (he’ll ditch it after a while and start cooking for the cat himself), the best sleeping place, the best toys to make sure that the cat is active and healthy. He will also bathe it, brush its fur every day, trim its nails… Vil’s cat is going to be such a wonderfully groomed cat that knows all kinds of tricks and is very smart and well-behaved… but also Vil’s capricious baby that hates everyone other than him lol

Rook – oh, he wouldn’t consider himself an owner, he would always say that he is a companion to his cat lol He wouldn’t get surprised when the cat suddenly starts to follow him around, but he would act so flattered and honoured! Such a beautiful creature decided to illuminate his life with its presence. Rook is pretty good at talking to animals, so he would have conversations with his cat… While sitting in a tree together lol He would feed it of course, but he would also hunt with it and would prefer for it to catch its own prey. He also doesn’t want to trim its nails or groom it more than necessary, but alas, if it wants to live in Pomefiore with him, it has to follow Vil’s rules~ Rook wouldn’t want to anger the queen with an ill-behaved and dirty cat, right? Maybe he would prefer to keep the cat outside though, to keep it as undomesticated as possible. A weirdo…

Epel – he would be so happy! It’s been a while since he owned a pet, and this is the first time he has a cat. He would pet and cuddle it a lot, even if it’s still dirty… Of course, his first instinct would be to feed it and to bring it to his room. But he would also probably be anxious to bring it to the dorm: what if Vil sees it and takes it away… and even if Vil doesn’t see it, Rook is definitely going to notice the cat smell or something, and he will snitch on him! Anyways, he won’t be able to keep it a secret for a long time, but the cat will do some damage lol Surprisingly, Epel will only get scolded for not being a proper owner, so as long as he does better, the cat can stay. But it probably means that his senpai will start taking care of the cat as well. Epel will be a bit jealous, it’s his cat after all…

Idia – he’d die. He’d be so happy. A cat that doesn’t hate him? A cat that wants to hang out? A cat that FOLLOWS HIM TO HIS ROOM AND STAYS THERE? HIS CAT? Idia would feel like he spent all of his luck points that he had saved up for these 18 years. Or was it good karma? Anyways, Idia now spends all his time building cat towers and automatic feeders and toys and all kinds of gadgets for his cool new cat. At first he wouldn’t be as good at talking to a cat, and it would be very obvious that he is a bit worried when he pets it and doesn’t want to scare it away, but he’ll start cuddling with it pretty quickly. He’s so happy… It doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel real at all. Even when he gets used to the cat and stops being so awkward around it, he will still feel such huge wave of happiness every time he sees it, as if every time he sees it is the first time…

Ortho – this is the first time he has a fluffy friend, well, other than Grim of course! And Lucius isn’t very friendly with him either, so this is a pretty new experience! Of course, partially he would be excited because if he owns a cat, it’s Idia’s cat as well, and he knows how much Idia loves cats. But also, this is such a good opportunity to make a proper cat-to-human translator!.. It’s weird with Ortho. He has all the info he needs, and he is very good at some things, but somehow… petting and interacting with a cat is a bit difficult. Why doesn’t kitty want to eat this food? Why did it pee in the wrong place? What’s going on? I think he’ll end up asking Trein for advice a lot, and this will be a good experience for everyone involved. Also, his cat loves him more when his processor gets hot lol he is a walking heater.

Lilia – he would be happy at first and show off and brag because now he isn’t just cute, he’s double cute! With a cute cat on his head/shoulders! But at the same time, I don’t know if he is the best person to have a cat. I feel like he is one of those who try to feed it with milk, but also knowing Lilia, he literally makes those he cares for drink milk from a mug. Maybe he’d act differently with a cat, but it surely will be an adventure for this poor animal lol He plays with it similarly to how Floyd plays with his cat, and just like with Floyd, somehow it makes the cat very attached to him. Sometimes Lilia cuddles it and kisses it a lot, but a lot of times it’s the cat that gets clingy with Lilia and wants to sleep with its head on his shoulder. Acting like a baby, smh…

Silver – aw, he would be so good. Similarly to Rook, he would consider a cat to be a companion, but he would also try to be very responsible with his he takes care of it. He would take it to Diasomnia and let it sleep in his bed, wouldn’t do much grooming or brushing, but he would do his best in terms of playing with it and feeding it well, I think. Especially the latter lol But the majority of time the cat would just cuddle up and sleep with him whenever he’s dozing off.

Sebek – he has better things to do than to indulge in these games!! He says as he brings the cat home with a bunch of books with all the necessary information on how to take care of a cat!! Did he also fall victim of cute paws and purring? Maybe! But it won’t affect his performance as Malleus’ guard in a slightest! I think he will try to train the cat, and he might even succeed to some degree, but his cat won’t be as well-trained as Vil’s or Azul’s. Maybe the cat just doesn’t take him seriously and just wants to make biscuits on his stomach while sleeping on his lap… Sebek would seethe, but won’t move until the cat leaves :(

Malleus – the cat isn’t afraid of him? Oh he would be so delighted. He was very happy about the goat in the Glorious Masquerade event, and I think his reaction would be similar here: first amusement, a little surprise, but then he would get so tickled and excited for this new companionship. The cat would be allowed to seemingly disrespect Malleus by positioning itself on his horns, leaving fur on his garment, playing with his hair, and Malleus would laugh… until the cat scratches him. Then Malleus would start sulking. But he’ll get over it, he’s not a baby.

[pekoehoneyncream]

Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 650~

TW: None (sfw)

Ghosts Headcanons are the least numerous, but they are the wordiest, so there's that.

Enjoy!

Ghost has like a six step morning skin routine and a fourteen step nightly skin routine. When he first started wearing the mask he wasn't in the right headspace to be taking care of himself. He didn't wash it or himself nearly as much as he should have and his skin SUFFERED for it. He hadn't had that many skin issues when he was in puberty. | The skin routines started with just an acne cleanser he remembered an old ex-girlfriend used to swear by, then a moisturizer because he has naturally dry skin and it was starting to get irritated rubbing against his mask all day, then he sorta just fell down the rabbit-hole when he tried to research good products to use and wound up with his long-ass skin routine.  | He honestly likes getting to have time to wake up in the mornings and wind-down in the evenings as he does his routine. If his thoughts aren't being friendly he'll pop on some music, or an audiobook.

Ghost is one of those freaks that will be working his way through up to five books at a time. This is because he uses books locationally. He has his audiobook, and the book next to his bed, and the book in the breakroom, and the book he keeps in his duffle, and the book he brings on transports, the book he keeps in Price's office, and etc. He just picks up the book that's in the same location he is, flips back a few pages to remember what's going on, then just keeps on reading. He's been asked how he keeps all the plots straight and he vagues his way through answering, but the truth is he doesn't. | How this happened is that he kept getting caught in situations where he'd have a few spare moments and he'd want to read, but he didn't have a book. He tried bringing a book with him, but he was constantly putting it down and forgetting where he'd left it. Wearing a bookbag isn't tactical. So having locational books is his solution. 

Price gets him those cheap mass produced paperbacks that are about the third of the size of a normal book and Ghost loves them. They fit into his pockets or into pouches on his plate carrier, and he can bring them around with him no problem. 

His nose was broken and wasn't set, later it was rebroken to heal properly, but the damage was done. He now snores and sputters in his sleep like an old hand-crank car. Unless he sleeps in the perfect position or he uses nasal strips.  | If he has to sleep on a mission he uses nasal strips. It's a bit embarrassing, but he's reassured by the fact his mask covers it, so no-one can actually see how dumb it looks. Snoring so loud you alert the enemy isn't keeping it tactical. 

He is the friend that carries extra snacks and water-bottles with him because he knows somebody is gonna forget theirs. He’s also memorized everyone’s schedules and how they all overlap. He uses this knowledge for both good and evil.

He insists that everyone messages when they're leaving and when they're headed back and when they're home safe.  | Price is the worst at remembering to message, the Captain has awoken many times to a disapproving Ghost standing over his bed, “You didn't text”. Gaz almost lost his life when Ghost found out that he just guesses how long it'll take and schedules his messages to auto-send. Soap always remembers. He's texting Ghost in his every free moment anyway, so it'd be harder for him to forget than to not to.

Thank You For Reading!

If you have any ideas or prompts that you want to see me write please let me know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[lightlycareless]

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

[banditobattlemotherfuckers]

GET READY!

Bandito Battle (officially) starts tommorow!

The first prompt had been already released before we had to push this back and it will still be the first prompt so try and communicate with teammates to get a head start!

Im going to work on the discord today for those in it so we can assign roles to the teams (If you aren't in it already ask me if you want to join)

On another hand Team 1 with their lovely (seemingly leader) @that-ace-idiot managed to agree on a team name! They're now called The Vultures although I will usually go "Team 1-Vultures" to clarify. Team 2 uhm try to do the same? It's okay if you're fine with just Team 2 but that's kinda boring don't ya think?

Extra:

To clarify here's who's in The Vultures (Team 1)

@thepaladinstrait @that-ace-idiot

@interstellarneighbourhood @atlas-cian

@creature-phases @whereisyourfuckingrage

@inkbagel

And Team 2 is:

@siennadraws-13 @tirisghost

@pardonmydelays @intheskatepark

@oldiesstationlover11607 @0-0baybay0-0

@camstuckinacan

Just to clarify teams :3

Also in the V o i d:

@nervous-alien and @dasloddl

Thank you both for sticking with us even when you guys were too busy for this or couldn't do it <3

And thank you to my wonderful, amazing, funky little co-host @the-paladin-gay whom I wish would get a round of applause from everyone for helping me every step on the way through this I couldn't thank any of you enough for this so thank you so so fuckin much

It's been Luna here,

Lets get this show on Banditos!

[yoshitsuno]

Hogtober is back for 2024 !

The 2024 edition of the Hogtober has finally been announced! And it's also a bit of a comeback for me on tumblr, after several weeks away due to my morale and commissions (don't worry, I'll share the commissions I've done). And I wanted to thanks those who gave me support on the last post I did there. You can't imagine how you words were supportive for me, even f it was hard everyday for me. Thank you so much ❤️ _______________________________________________

With @speedysart, we've decided to work together to bring you the new prompt list for last year's hugely popular challenge.

For those of you who don't remember the rules of the challenge: a theme is proposed each day during the month of October and you have to create something : Art, Video, Audio, Fanfiction, ... The aim is to get everyone's take on the theme. So get creative!

Don't forget that it's for fun and it's not a problem if you can't make every day something ! ❤️

From 1st October, you can submit your entries by sharing them on all your social networks using the hashtag #hogtober or #hogtober2024 ! We are so excited to see your future contributions !

[toxintouch]

Yooooooo, you write fan fictions, don't you? Halloween is, like, right over there *points*. would you be willing to do one of mhin taking sparrow ghost hunting? and maybe even having a "guest appearance" of a certain shadow manipulator?

if this has already been done, could you point me in the right direction?

thank you~

I've never seen a fic like that but omg. This is such a brilliant idea, I love how all the pieces come together so perfectly–Vere being said to be responsible for his fair share of local ghost stories, mentions of Mhin and haunted houses in the Uquiz results… Premium thoughts.  I had a lot of fun writing this, ty for giving me the prompt!! :>

It took a couple of extra days but it's also longer (~2900 words) so hopefully that makes up for it.  p.s sorry if u meant it to be more gen bc I wrote romantic pining lol Volume Warning! Ambiance (~BEAUTIFUL FOX NOISES) for y'all /j

Cold Spots

You pull your cloak tighter around yourself, sheltering your remaining body heat from the howling wind.  

You ignore the shiver that creeps down your spine.

You’ve been warned that the night is chilly in Eridia at this time of year, but you haven’t quite scraped together enough coin to afford more layers.  So you huddle closer to the swaying lamplight of the Wet Wick, attempting to leech warmth from the cheery (if occasionally overwhelming) atmosphere of the bar.  You’re on edge, wary about straying too far from the Wick’s affable open doors and the balmy light spilling out of them.

You crane your neck to peer as far as you can around the corner without moving, eyeing the myriad of nearby alleyways, all full to the brim with shadows, searching for a familiar splash of moonlight and blue sweeping through the night.

 That’s when you feel eyes on your back.

You freeze, all of your senses on high alert.

“You’re where I asked you to be.”  Mhin says in lieu of a greeting.  You startle, reeling around to face them.  Even when you're expecting them, they have the uncanny ability of sneaking up on you.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”  You chide, in mock affront.  “You’ll notice that I’m also on time.”  Your giddiness shows on your face, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act so pleased with yourself,” they snipe while rolling their eyes, “for anyone else, that’s the bare minimum.”  They frown, looking you up and down with their arms tightly crossed. “...Is that what you’re wearing?”

Any further quips you have for them die in your mouth, drowned out by nervous chuckling.  You realize they must be asking (in their own way) if you’re not going to get too cold.  You know you could just ask Leander or Kuras for some seasonally appropriate attire but you’d rather not rely on further charity if you can’t help it.  Hence: “I’m, um, warm blooded?”  You mean to inject an appropriate amount of bravado into your voice, but it comes out as more of a question.

Mhin sighs, long eyelashes brushing their cheeks as they close their eyes for one long moment.   “Sometimes I wonder…  Fine.  Let’s just get going.”

The floorboards shriek beneath your feet as you step across the threshold.  The entire shack seems to groan and sway, protesting audibly against the wind.  You stick close to Mhin’s back as they hold their gas lamp up, casting an eerie glow about the interior of the abandoned building.  Their keen eyes do a quick sweep before they nod decisively and usher you inside with a single precise motion.

The bellow of the wind sounds almost like a scream as the door shuts behind you.

“So, what are we looking for, exactly?”  Your voice comes out hushed, the haunting atmosphere insisting that behave accordingly.

“Likely nothing.”  Mhin responds.  “Actual ghost sightings are very rare.  And of those, few recorded instances come from trustworthy sources.  People in Eridia can be quite superstitious.  Count on rats or other pests.  It’s more plausible that this is a mere infestation rather than–”

The roof above your heads gives a long, low creeaaaak.

You both pause for a beat, listening to silence.

“How would we know if it's a real ghost?”  You ask, more out of curiosity than anything.  You’re not about to waste the opportunity, if Mhin is willing to keep talking.

“Depends on the type of ghost.”  Another protest from the floorboards as Mhin wanders further into the dark.  Since you don’t have a lantern of your own, you have no choice but to follow close behind.  Unless you want to stumble around with nothing but the shatters of dusty moonlight cast through the cracked windows to guide your way.

Mhin and you make a quick round of the small building, finding it mostly empty, only a few pieces of broken furniture left behind.  You draw closer to the back wall, carefully avoiding moth-eaten curtains, heeding Mhin’s warning about a small step.  Based on the layout, you think this place might have been a bar or entertainment hall of some sort.  You imagine it had a nice, cozy parlor at one time, though now it’s fallen into squalor.  As Mhin examines the walls for signs of pests and other clues, you examine the graffiti strewn across them: crude jokes and lewd drawings, mostly.  Some scattered names, belonging to people and gangs you’ve never heard of before.  

Framed in the center, though, there's a huge riot of colorful paint.  An abstract painting with no proper canvas.  It's beautiful, somehow, though hauntingly morose.  The artist has contained their work in a neat square, not a single streak of color escaping the precisely imposed prison.  You’re not sure what the intent of the artist was choosing somewhere like this to display it…  

“Is there a type of ghost that makes artwork?”  You wonder aloud.  You almost wish that Mhin would hand you the lantern so you can get a better look.

Mhin clicks their tongue, sparing barely a glance toward the makeshift painting.  “I wouldn't define that as art.”  Mhin follows the line of the wall to the corner, their lantern held up to the wall.  “That’s just…paint.  If you’re looking for ghosts, try looking for scratch marks.  Those are a possible indicator, though not always a reliable one.  A sudden feeling of hot, or cold–any otherwise unexplainable temperature change.  A strange odor…”

You give the air a sniff.  “...I don’t smell anything.  Do you?”

“Dust.  Rotting wood.  And you’ve stopped using Leander’s bath soaps, which I’ll commend you for.  Why anybody would want to smell that strongly of–”  Mhin stops and gives a short whiff, their mouth slightly parted.  Their brows furrow. “It is unusual…I don't see or smell any signs of rats or roaches.  No vultures either…”

“Maybe something else scared them away?”  You posit.  You shuffle closer to Mhin, not liking the way the shadows around you seem to flow and ebb the longer you look at them, your mind making up shapes.  There’s a silly part of you that wants to feel Mhin’s cloak between your bandaged fingers as reassurance that they’ll stay close.  They’d probably hate to know that you see them as something to cling to–a source of comfort, safety.

You try to take another step closer to further dampen your trepidation, but instead you trip over– something–and stumble directly into Mhin.  They catch you on impulse, strong and quick enough to steady you with one arm while holding the lantern with the other.  You breathe an apology, your lips bumping against their chin as they help you get your feet back under you.  

You both search the ground to determine what knocked you off your balance.

It's a dirty old rug, rucked up at one edge.  

A long line of what appears to be claw marks lies half uncovered below it.  Mhin kneels beside the marks, studying them intently, carefully moving the rug to reveal yet more splintered wood.  “I’m not sure what could have done this,” they admit.  “The marks are fresh, but none of the dust was disrupted…”

The floorboards groan another protest, though it bounds off the walls in strange ways, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where the sound originated.

“Aural contortions.”  Mhin announces.  “And a feeling that you’re being watched.  Reflective surfaces will behave oddly as well.  Hold this.”  Mhin hands you the lantern (more: shoves it into your grasp, really) reaching into their satchel.  Their nimble hands pull out a handful of alchemical concoctions, one which shines like the inside of a seashell, a tiny silver locket, which they flick open to reveal a small mirror.  There’s symbols etched into it, so old and worn away you can’t make them out.

You draw the lantern closer at their behest, illuminating a small smile spread across their face.

Is Mhin …Having fun?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”  You ask, hoping they don’t notice the warmth in your voice. Getting scolded would kind of ruin the mood.

Mhin glances up, blinking at you like they almost forgot you were there.  Their tongue peeks out, wetting their lips as they consider.  “Yes,” they finally agree, “would you–”

The lamplight is smothered by an unknown force.

The cracked streams of light from the window are gone, leaving you in darkness.

Mhin swears, their voice distorting as if they are suddenly very far away.  A moment ago they were crouched beside you, but the shadows surrounding you are so inky you can’t make out their silhouette at all.  Instinctively, you reach your hands out in front of you before freezing and reluctantly forcing them back down.  If both you and Mhin end up stumbling around with hands outstretched, there’s a possibility that they might accidentally grasp onto you and disrupt your bandages.  (You wish you had given into your desire to hold onto them earlier.)  

You whisper their name, frantic, hoping they can hear you.

“I’m here,” Mhin assures you, their voice pitched low and cautious.  You feel the gentle press of a foot against yours, a light tap of reassurance against the side of your sole.  “Stay close.”  There’s a brush of fingertips against your back.  “If the entity is particularly powerful, it will be able to move objects,” Mhin cautions, “but a ghost should never be capable of causing harm to humans directly.  And there’s not much in here that it could throw.  Just stay calm.  If you don’t keep your emotions in check, it will only be more incensed.”

Light flashes through the room again in a spotlight, guiding your gaze to a particular area of the building.

The abstract mural is defaced, dripping black liquid splattered boldly across the wall like arterial spray.  You retreat a step, feeling something wet beneath your feet.  There’s a sharp, astringent tang in the air.  Musty and earthy-floral.  Old velvet and leather, parchment and fresh paint.

You realize, with a sinking feeling of cold terror, that the black ichor on the wall spells your name.

    Eyes on you.  

Touch like a gossamer spider web.  Brushing against the nape of your neck.

“Mhin,” you whisper urgently.  “Something just–”  

The cold hits you then.  Bone deep and all consuming.  Judging by the way Mhin swears, they must feel it too.  Whatever this unknown entity is, it’s close.  And it wants…

Shadow flickers, fingers reaching for you, claws grasping, white glint of teeth.

Mhin sneers audibly, reaching for you and reeling you in by your cloak just before the figure can snatch you up.  Their arm wraps around you, guiding you with them as they recede.  They sweep their stiletto in a wide arc and you hear the clang of metal on metal, though you have no idea what it was that Mhin hit.  Their night vision must be immaculate–you can hardly see more than the fresh glint of their stiletto blade.

“Turns out it is a vermin infestation.”

A bark of laughter.  

Very familiar laughter.

The door starts to rattle on its hinges, moving to the rhythm of Vere's glee.  Mhin walks over to it, dragging your shaking body with them.  With a definitive kick from Mhin and a final cackle from Vere, the door bursts open.

Mhin tugs you out into the open air and slams it behind them.

“Awful fur-bag.”  Mhin spits the words out like the mere thought of Vere leaves a bad taste in their mouth.

You’re far enough away that the black paint clinging to both of your shoes is no longer leaving footprints, but you can’t say the same about the bone deep cold.

You’re shivering so hard your teeth start to chatter, adrenaline magnifying the chill in your bones.  How did Vere even do that?  You rub your arms and nearly stumble into Mhin in the process.  Their features twist into a half-formed scowl, eyes sweeping you before softening into something more delicate.

You find yourself staring into eyes that seem to catch the moonlight, words caught in your throat.

“You’re freezing.” Mhin murmurs, resting a hand against the curve of your cheek, testing your temperature.

You’re surprised at the contact.  Mhin is always so careful about touching you–it’s something you appreciate, usually, this unspoken agreement between the two of you; Mhin doesn’t ask intrusive questions, just makes silent hypotheses and treats your personal space with care.  You appreciate it–usually–but sometimes, (constantly), you wish…

Mhin’s thumb pets against your jaw.  They glace away from you as they do, unable to hold your gaze, but they don’t remove their hand, even as the moment hangs heavy in the air.  Their hand is soft, you think, fingertips like silk, though you can feel the thick calluses built up at the meat of their palm.  Likely hard won and harder lost, trophies from their time as a freelancer and whatever secret misfortune befell them what led them to Eridia.  Unthinking, you nuzzle into their touch, luxuriating in the coveted feeling of skin on skin.  You have half a mind to turn your head, press your lips against their calluses, kiss them like you’re drawing poison from a wound.

Mhin catches your chin between their thumb and pointer finger.  Their grip is assertive, certain.  You’d worry that you’ve angered them somehow, but the intensity of their gaze, the subtle tilt of their head, the flush of their cheeks, the featherlight caress of their breath on your lips…

–You think they might–

They back away abruptly in one smooth stride.  Their hands work quickly at the intricate clasp on their cloak.  Oh, now they’re really looking away.

“Wear this while we head back.  You didn’t come to this city to die of cold.”

They look at their bracers pointedly as you hesitate, as if itching to adjust them.  You slowly reach out and put the garment on.

The trek back to the Wick is uneventful.  The occasional star glances out from the pall of clouds constantly lingering in the Eridian sky.  You look for the waning moon, finding its reticent light and following it home.  You return Mhin’s cloak at the door, careful to hold it in a way that allows them to take it without having to touch you – touch your bandages.  

Mhin looks, oddly, a little reluctant to see it returned.  You’re not sure how else you can possibly read their body language.  Their hunched shoulders, the downturn of their mouth, their uncharacteristic lingering.  Holding the cloak in their hands like they can’t quite decide what to think of it.

They let out a sharp breath.

Mhin levels you with a pointed glare as they settle their mantle across their shoulders, affixing the clasp without need to look down.  “Buy some warmer clothes.” they order, “Tell Leander that the contract is complete and the buyer’s ‘ghost problem’ is solved.  The building should be fine for renovations, just tell them to start their renewal project on a day when the Senobium is actually holding Vere’s leash.”

 

“You’ll come back for your cut tomorrow…?”  Confusion rolls off your lips.

“No.”  Mhin crosses their arms again.  “I just told you to buy some warmer clothes, didn’t I?  Consider it hazard pay.”  Again, that disgusted tone Mhin reserves for Vere.  “Even with that taken into consideration, you’ll still owe me, though.  Don’t forget.  I’ll collect some day; everyone does in this city.”

You’re not sure what to say.  Mhin is insisting that this is just a loan, and you believe that wholeheartedly.  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t charity.  Mhin’s also offering you transparency–an open disclosure of the deal you’re agreeing to.  You take their cut, buy what you need, and resolve to pay it back when you can.  And if Mhin needs something similar in the future, you’ll return them in kind.  

You think you stumble over your words a little, but you agree to their offer.

“I’ll be back to collect another contract.  Hopefully something that’s not a waste of my time.”

And a promise to come back is a promise to see you again, isn’t it?  To include you in their life?  Is that what you’re supposed to take from this?  That Mhin cares for you, even if they won’t–

 

Or is it your foolish heart, showing you a path that isn’t really there?  

“Goodnight, Mhin.”  You say the words, but their back is already turned, steps already taken.

   ✦ EXTENDED ENDING...? ✦

 

 You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine.  The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed.  You smooth down the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight.  You tug the covers up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable.

As your eyes finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.  

It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you.

Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort. 

You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream.

“Vere, what–”

“Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin.

“I only came to keep you warm, pet.”