#also don’t make fun of me i know he looks a bit funk but i haven’t crocheted anything in MONTHS

[solar-halos]

snoopy of the day..?

“wait a minute is snoopy sitting on his own entrails (aka a bunch of unweaved ends)?” my live reaction to that information:

[7-wonders]

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

[luffyvace]

MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

[missmaywemeetagain]

Fireside - A Pink Scarf Universe Story 💗🧣💗

A/N: Apparently, I am not able to stay too far away from our darlin' Reader and Elvis, no matter how hard I try! I just love them too much. So, here is a sexy little blurb taking place in February 1970. I hope you enjoy, and maybe if this gets enough likes and traction, I'll release more and grow the "Pink Scarf Universe" lol, who knows?

If you haven't read Pink Scarf, read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist (though honestly you could probably read this without knowing their story it just won't be as fun for you without the background info 😂).

I will also say this isn't as heavily edited and revised as PS, but hopefully it's still readable...

TW: MINORS DNI 18+ SEXX. PS Daddy E is back! The usual filth with these two. Fluff. A tinge of angst at the beginning. 😏

Word Count: 4.4k

Fireside

Graceland, Late February 1970

Shivering as you make your way across the lawn, you pull your arms across your coat in tight, feeling a bit insolent and annoyed that you even have to trudge out here in the middle of the night. But Elvis had insisted, in that spontaneous way of his, that he must have a campfire tonight, of all nights, even though they all had just returned from his second engagement in Las Vegas and were all beat to hell with exhaustion. So, he and the guys had all tasked at building what you considered to be a too large and dangerous fire in out on the back lawn.

Perhaps you might be feeling more understanding if you hadn’t just spent two weeks away from him—the longest amount of time you’d been apart since August. You’d been sent home early after catching the monster flu that had been going around, which had turned quickly into a terrible bout of bronchitis. The desert air had done you no favors, and Elvis, along with the doctor, had sent you home to Memphis despite your protests. You were furious because Elvis, too, had caught the flu, but in that stubborn way of his had insisted on performing through it like an insane person.

“All these folks paid good money and flew in from all over to come see me, Satnin. I ain’t gonna disappoint them,” he’d said to you as you both coughed and raged with fever.

You were so mad he’d sent you home during your first engagement as one of his back-up singers that you were still stung by it. But you were also finding yourself increasingly needy for him along with your moodiness.

Which is why you find yourself out in the cold, sniffling, desperate for your fiancé to come inside and shower you with attention instead of living it up out in the cold with the guys he just spent a solid month with.

Your grumpiness is fueled as you approach the roaring flames and spot Elvis in his low Adirondack chair, laughing it up with the guys. You don’t like the feeling of jealousy that creeps over you at his attention being pulled away from you by these men. It’s silly, you know, just as you know it’s part of the package. Elvis’ light and charisma demands attention whether he means it to or not but having been away from him the past few weeks made you miss him in a way you haven’t felt before.

Part of you can’t escape how handsome he looks in the firelight, his smile wide and crinkling his lovely blue eyes. And that damn laugh of his is so contagious and musical that it almost—almost—pulls you out of your funk.

That tether between you has been pulled tight for too long and yanks you towards him out here in the cold. You stand over him sullenly for a moment until he raises those soulful eyes up to yours.

“Why ain’t you in bed, Satnin? You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch another chill,” Elvis says in what to him is a caring way yet to you feels almost dismissive. But he must see the needy look in your eyes and the tears brimming there because his voice softens and he adds, “Come ‘ere then,” and lifts the heavy blanket over his legs. A sense of deep relief falls over you as you slide sideways into his lap, throwing your legs across his, his warmth cocooning you. He pulls the heavy blanket up over you both and you snuggle into his chest.

Yes, this is what you need, you think, collapsing into him, his spicy familiar scent enveloping you, the heat of his body burning into yours. One arm circles around your back and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you ever closer. God, you missed this. You missed him. To think you spent so many years near him but without him… No wonder your brain concealed so much from you for so long—this yearning you feel is nearly unbearable and he is already yours.

You sigh into his neck, and he presses his chin down to look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers in your ear, his hand slipping under your coat to rub comforting circles at your waist. His slender fingers are cold, but you don’t care in the least.

“Missed you,” is all you can eek out in your sensitive, tearful state, your hand clutching at the front of his coat.

“Aww, darlin’, I’m right here,” he says, kissing the top of your head, then pressing his fire-warmed cheek to your cool one.

You can’t help but pout, your mood worn from weeks of being sick and without him to comfort you. It’s not like you to act this way—for years you built a stoic shell around yourself to cope with Jack being gone all the time—but Elvis managed to break that shell into pieces last summer. Since then, you’ve found yourself feeling every little thing and unable to hide it from him. Perhaps it is because he is so finely tuned into you that he just knows when something is off, but you can’t seem to hide things from him even when you’ve tried.

“Mhm,” Elvis tuts in your ear, “you’re still sore that I sent you home, ain’tcha? I’m not gonna be sorry about that, honey. You were too sick and the doc was right—that Vegas air was doin’ you no good.” He shakes his head.

You huff stubbornly and bury your head into his long neck. Of course, logically, you know they were right to send you back, but you are still upset and not just about that. You can’t seem to voice exactly what you are mad about, only realizing that you are annoyed and sad and small and needy in a way you’ve never been before. And this overwhelm seems to steal your ability to express any of those emotions in words. You’re not sure what exactly you need, other than being as close as possible to the man you love.

“Oh, don’t you be obstinate, now,” Elvis warns quietly, the slightest edge of temper in his voice. Your only response is to cling to him harder, to nuzzle yourself further into the warmth that emanates off him.

He says nothing for a moment, staring into the fire, but you can sense the gears turning behind those pretty, worn eyes. Finally, he seems to come to some conclusion because his countenance shifts and he forces your chin out of his neck with his finger so he can look you in the eyes.

“Is all this because you need Daddy to take care of you?” he asks quietly, firmly. His voice is low and rumbles right down to your toes, the words setting every one of your nerves on fire along the way.

A whimper escapes your lips. You are suddenly grateful for the inky darkness of the winter’s night, at the heat of the fire, because they conceal the blush that suddenly blotches your cheeks as Elvis stares deeply into your eyes. The gaze has you squirming to get off his lap and you want to pull him into the house where you need him, but his large hands clamp down firm.

“Be still,” he commands sternly, but only loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart is galloping at the implication of those two little words.

“Now are ya gonna be a good, quiet little girl for me?” Elvis asks, his hand gripping your chin so you have to look at him. His face is the picture of controlled calm—it’s only the flames dancing in his darkening eyes that gives him away.

You hadn’t realized just how badly you needed him to take control until this very moment.

You manage to nod solemnly as all the blood in your body seems to rush into your core. You don’t know what he has in store for you, but the fact that he is not making any attempt to leave the company of the men surrounding you makes you nervous (and maybe a little intrigued).              

Elvis releases your chin and pulls the heavy blanket up over your shoulders, encouraging you to snuggle back into him by tightening his hand around your waist. The warm wool now covers you both from head to toe, and it is only then that you start to glean why that might be important.

You rest your head on his collarbone, waiting with bated breath, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart begin to quicken under your hand as you slip it into his coat. You’re unable to help the impulse to place a fluttering kiss at the pulse point on his elegant long neck, and his lip curls up in response. Before long, he begins drawing small circles with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, and when reaching the hem of your dress, he slips under without compunction. You stiffen as he continues, unhurried, up, up, up until he reaches your panty line.

Your eyes widen and you wonder if Elvis is really going to do this with all the guys around. It’s bold, even for him, even with the blanket tenting and concealing his movements. A snake of apprehension in your gut is overrun by the thrill of the risk. The conversation around the fire flows on without either of you, and the crackle of the flames conceals a lot, and for that you are grateful.

The light brush of his fingers over the cotton of your panties makes you jump despite yourself, and in response, Elvis grips your waist hard, stilling you.

“Be good,” he orders through clenched teeth, “or I’m gonna stop and leave you to fend for yourself. Or maybe I oughta pull this blanket off and let the guys enjoy the show.” His lip quivers up slyly at that.

The threat stills you either way.

Elvis chuckles darkly. His fingers resume their teasing, dancing over the cotton at your core delightfully as you attempt to stay as still and quiet as possible. He is maddeningly patient, doing this until you can feel the throb of your pulse blossoming between your thighs, and it has you oh-so-quietly panting into his neck. But it’s not until he feels the fabric dampen under his touch that he finally slides his naughty, slender finger underneath, grazing through your slick and up to your sensitive bud, forcing you to bite down to keep from keening loudly.

Fuck, you’ve missed him.

By now, he knows how to play you like an instrument, his instrument, knowing exactly how much pressure to use as he circles your clit again and again, enough to get you sufficiently worked up. His casualness suggests he has all the time in the world while you’re sitting in his lap beginning to shudder from the pleasure coiling low in your belly.

Occasionally, he’ll stop, just to listen to your desperate breathlessness, your carnal wanting of him quelled by trying to be a quiet, good girl like you promised. A hint of a smirk plays on his face, making you want to crush your mouth to his or slap him for his teasing. Instead, you settle for clawing at his shirt.

The wetness that gathers between your legs has your panties soaked and sticking to you now, which might be embarrassing except for the fact that you are so damn needy for him, you couldn’t care less about your ruined underwear. Elvis discovers this fact as he finally dips lower, running the length of his finger back and forth through your sopping, swollen folds, taking his sweet damn time.

You tense. You are nearly ready to come undone just from his teasing, but you know that’s not what he wants. That’s not the game he’s playing. You raise your head from his chest just long enough to give him a pleading look.

He's doing a decent job of keeping his handsome features neutral, looking to a casual observer as though he is following the conversation around the fire and not driving you to madness under the blanket. But knowing him as you do, you can see the tiny giveaways that he, too, is flustered: the way his nostrils flare with his increased breathing rate, how his brilliant blues gleam with arousal, the way his plump lips part when he finally presses his middle finger deep into you.

Your wetness devours him readily. To hide the gasp and roaring flush on your cheeks, you pull the blanket up even farther. You clutch at his chest and your nails scrape his skin. After a few agonizing minutes, there’s no helping the instinct to grind your hips against his hand, wanting him deeper, wanting to consume him.

But while he smirks and is pleased with your desperation, he also will not relinquish control. He stills completely, one hand gripping your waist hard as a reminder of who is in charge. Your warm, wet heat clenches around his finger.

“Be good and stop squirmin’, little one,” he whispers low in your ear, “and maybe Daddy will keep finger fuckin’ you ‘till ya come.”

You stop moving but whine in response to those dirty words coming from his perfect pouty mouth—you just can’t help it—but it’s so quiet he can barely hear you. Your reward is another finger sliding deep into your heat. He picks up the pace in an unforgiving way. Gasping, you bite your lip when he curves those fingers just so, hitting that spot deep inside that is only his.

The blanket barely moves, and you have no idea what magic he is using to keep things so incognito, especially considering he naturally has so much energy that his limbs are usually vibrating uncontrollably. You still feel completely on display, though, especially when the pad of his thumb begins massaging your bud in time with his expert fingers pumping in and out of you.

I’m going to come undone, right here, in front of all the guys, you think in horror. You have no clue how you are going to keep quiet and still and good if that happens. Panic begins to build behind your arousal because you just know that coil is going to burst and you’ll cry out in ecstasy any second now (but a dark part of you is even more aroused by the scandalous nature of it all).

Elvis must sense the change in you because he edges you right up to the point of no return but not over. He halts his ministrations. You clutch desperately at his expensive shirt, certain you are going to shred it to pieces by the time this little game of his is through. Your heart pounds hard and fast against your ribcage, in time with his, and you wait to see what he has in store for you next. Because even though a part of you is embarrassed by this game, you are drinking in every drop of attention, relishing his command over you, needy for every morsel he deems to give you.

He’s considering his next move, you think, by the way his eyes narrow slightly and his grip on you shifts. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you almost moan for the loss of them, but catch yourself at the last second. Brazenly, he wipes his sticky fingers down your inner thigh, his eyes dancing with amusement as he does so.

You gape at him. He can’t be finished, you think dismally. He can’t leave me like this.

No, you don’t think so, not with the way you can feel his hardened length pressing into your hamstring.

He kisses your temple sweetly. “Now listen carefully, little girl: Imma need you to shift onto one of Daddy’s legs for a second. Nice and slow now, don’t call attention to it. And hold those ruined panties of yours to the side. I wanna feel that pretty little kitty weepin’ for me,” he rumbles in your ear.

Oh my goddd... The urge to moan long and loud fills you but you just nod instead.

You follow his directions and move your weight so one of his lean, muscled thighs is between yours. The rough fabric of his pants scrapes your bare pussy as he bounces his leg a few times, sending a cascaded of shivers into your belly. His pants will need to be dry cleaned for the soaking spot you’re leaving there, and part of you feels a sense of pride to be marking him in such a way. Mine.

Holding the blanket up to your shoulders dutifully, you stare at the golden flames licking into the air in front of you. No one seems to notice or care that you have shifted.

That’s when you feel it. The slow, deliberate way he undoes his belt, the ticking of his zipper. You blush furiously, then feel the spring of his heavy cock being released. Before you can react, he unceremoniously and quickly lifts you fully onto his lap, lining you up then impaling you down upon his length.

You cover your surprise and choke with a cough—not unusual considering you’re still recovering from bronchitis. Thank god you are as wet as you are because, even so, it’s a damn tight fit with him having been away these past few weeks. You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes into the back of your head because he’s finally filling you the way you need him to.

Yes, this is what you wanted. This is what you needed. You just didn’t expect it to be in front of all his (albeit unaware) friends.

By the way Elvis grips your waist and from the soft grunt that escapes him, you know he’s struggling to contain his own reaction to your heat, despite the air of control he’s been exuding. He adjusts you how he wants you: leaning your back over his chest, your legs draped over his, his chin resting on your shoulder. With the way the seat of the chair tips down to the ground and with blanket pulled all the way up, nothing looks amiss.

You close your eyes and sigh, relishing the feel of him stretching you, his cock buried deliciously deep inside you. He envelops you in his arms, one under your breasts, the other at your lower belly. His warmth burns into your back, but he does not let you move. Those wiry but strong arms have effectively pinned you to him. Almost frantic, you try for some semblance of friction, anything at all to ease the tension, but he just chuckles at your near-silent gasps, holding you fast against him.

Finally, once you relent and relax, Elvis swivels his hips, again and again, in a slow rhythm not unlike one monumentally famous performance on TV in the beginning of his career, the one that sent the church ladies off their rockers and the teenage girls fainting. Suddenly, you want to giggle at the fact that his damn hips resulted in both his skyrocketing career and in his censorship because those same hips have certainly become even more skilled in the many years between then and now, but for different, more scandalous reasons. Maybe those church ladies had a point, after all, you laugh quietly. And it causes you to clench around his cock.

Then you hear a low growl in your ear: “What a dirty little girl you are, letting Daddy take you like this in front of all these men. Bein’ so good for me. You like this, baby girl?” Each statement is accentuated with a shallow but pointed roll of his pelvis.

You bite your lip, nodding. His dirty talk has molten heat flooding down your limbs and directly into your cunt. With the warmth of the roaring fire coupled with the passioned heat at your back, your arousal grows with each small movement, each scandalous word, and has you feeling like you might combust before this is all said and done.

So desperately do you want to ride him within an inch of his life, but he won’t allow it. No, this is his show, and you give into him, fully resting back onto his chest. He rewards you by finding your clit again, massaging it in slow time with his barely moving cock. The result is both torturous and delectable, working you into such a state that you dig your nails so hard into his clothed thighs that he hisses.  

“Fuck, little one, you feel so good,” Elvis breathes jaggedly into your ear. He presses a hand to your lower belly, then rolls his hips up. In this position, he’s big enough that you both can feel him there. “Takin’ my cock so well.”

You do your level best not to mewl, to stay quiet for him. Instead, your breathing pants through your nostrils and you try to keep your wits about you, trying to stay good as he fucks you so slowly within an inch of your life. Fucks you with all the guys around, who seem none the wiser.

He must feel you begin to flutter around him, your climax drawing ever closer. You feel like you’re about to burst because you need to scream, to moan out his name, do something that will let you release this pressure, but you tamp it all down as far as you can.

“Daddy’s gonna make you come now, sweetheart,” he purrs.

“N-not h-here,” you breathe out, panicked, knowing you can’t hold on much longer.

“Yes, here,” he chastises. “Right in front of ev’rybody. You’re gonna come so hard, baby, cuz Daddy treats you right, doesn’t he?”

You almost sob at that and nod, that coil poised to explode at any moment.

“But you’re gonna be good and so, so quiet cuz it’s just for me baby. You ain’t gonna cry out or move a muscle, okay?” he whispers and though he’s commanding, you know he’s close to losing control himself by how labored his breath is and how tightly he’s holding you.

You nod, and he flicks your clit with expert, rapid precision. “Now, lil’ one. Come now.”

That’s all you need. Quite suddenly, you are consumed by fire as hot as the one blazing in front of you. Your body tenses, then shudders violently in his lap and he holds you to him as you careen over the edge, lost to the dark night. It takes every ounce of self-control in you to not cry out, resulting instead in your huffed breaths. Long nails bite into his arms, clamoring for some outlet for your pleasure. Your eyes close, stars dancing behind them. Your walls clench and flutter around his length and you feel his slow rhythm begin to stutter.                                                        

“Fuck, baby, Jesus fuck, so good for m-me. Daddy’s gonna fill y-you up now. All mine. Aw, h-hell.” He pulses inside you, covering his own orgasm by biting deep into your shoulder, so hard you can feel it through the heavy winter coat you’re wearing. His thick, hot arousal throbs and coats your insides and you ride him through it with the tiniest rocking of your hips, feeling lighter than air but also grounded by him.

That’s what life with Elvis is like, you think. He grounds you to him, to his orbit, and sends you both shooting to the moon and the stars.  

Completely blissed out and spent, you fall into him, and he slumps back in the chair. As you come back down to Earth, you feel your breathing sync with his. You close your eyes and revel in the wonderful way he’s made you feel, this man you are so wildly in love with.

You’re no longer upset.

You’re just glad to be back in his arms.

Elvis nudges you and you realize you may have dosed off, as he is now soft inside you and the fire has dimmed some.

“I think you made quite the mess, lil’ mama,” he whispers, nipping at your ear.

Indeed. You can feel the cool pooling of your collective arousal coating you and his lap.

“I made the mess, huh?” you whisper back with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, most definitely.” You can feel his boyish grin as he kisses your neck.

“Sure. And how exactly are we supposed to get back in the house without everyone knowing we had sex in front of them?”

He pauses and then you can feel the vibration of his chest as he starts to chuckle, that way he gets just before he has a laughing fit.

“Oh, don’t you dare start, E,” you warn. It’s contagious, of course, and you feel your own laughter bubbling. “You didn’t think this all the way through, did you, love?” you shake your head.

“That’s what I have you for!” he laughs.

“Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to sit here and simmer in our juices until everyone decides to go to bed, now won’t we?” you try to whisper sternly, but giggles escape at the complete ridiculousness of the situation.

“Not in our juices!” he cries with laughter. He’s completely beside himself, pressing his forehead into your back in an effort to hide his amusement.

“What was that, EP? Thought you both fell asleep over there,” Lamar says.

“N-nothing!” Elvis hiccups. “Just go about your business! Y’all must be getting’ tired, right? Time to go inside! Time for bed!” He flails his arms in the general direction of the house.

You are both trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hold back your laughter, and the guys are looking at you two like you’ve grown horns.

“Um, sure, EP? I guess it is getting late,” Charlie throws out.

Quizzical, the guys grumble a bit and begin to mosey their way towards the house.

“You comin’?” Lamar shouts.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it! We’ll get there!” Elvis calls, shooing him away, then dissolves into another peal of breathless laughter.  

“Okay, Crazy,” Lamar mumbles.

Elvis is sniffling and snorting by now. Your face is red and tears poke at the corners because the more he laughs, the more you laugh.

“I love you, Satnin,” he says, kissing your cheek gently once everyone is gone and your giggles have subsided.

“I love you, too, baby boy.” You press your forehead to his. “Now please tell me you have a handkerchief or something cuz otherwise you’re gonna need to wear this blanket around your waist to get inside.

“Anything for you, baby, anything for you,” Elvis says, holding back another peal of laughter.

And you know it’s true.

*

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[etherrreal]

“creep(er) into my heart”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff, friends to lovers Summary: two gamers walk into a fancy restaurant and it goes as well as you’d think. WC: 4,220 Warnings: N/A A/N: This is part 2 of “would you be mine(craft)?” with an even cornier title. You can probably read this without reading the first, but maybe read it for context? (also, i joke that applebee’s sucks but their “bourbon street chicken and shrimp” lives rent free in my head everyday) -Luna

Dates are meant to be anxiety-inducing, whether it’s a stomach full of butterflies or ruthless tornadoes.

So, it’s an odd feeling to be so calm and collected during the days leading up to a big date, especially one with Kenma. You assume it’s because the stakes are so low, knowing that if the spark isn’t there, you’ll still see him on Minecraft, probably that same night, to help with his iron golem farming idea like nothing ever happened. 

What’s even weirder is that both of you have continued to not discuss the date at all since he asked you the weekend before. You don’t know if it’s because it’ll be awkward to break the ice of the discussion or if he’s procrastinating figuring out the plans for that night, but you both continue to play games and watch anime together during the week without even grazing the topic.

If it wasn't for the Google Calendar invite reminding you 48 hours before Saturday that your date was in fact coming up, you would still believe that him asking you out was something you happened to imagine during your post-date funk.

Thankfully, come Thursday evening, not long after you get the notification, he sends you a text letting you know that he’ll be taking you to a restaurant in the city. It’s one you’ve passed several times before, which is how you know, without having to check their Instagram tags, that it’s a semi-formal, if not fully formal, dress code and dining experience. It’s an abnormal choice for Kenma to willingly select a place where he’d have to wear anything that buttons, let alone a full suit, so you have to imagine that the place must have glowing reviews for him to settle on it.

Now all you have to do is find a whole entire formal outfit with only two days’ notice and minimal time after work to shop. No biggie.

But you manage to do it in time—although barely since you had to rally together the group chat to help—and by the time Saturday comes, you’re actually feeling a bit of nerves start to pool in your stomach as you’re getting ready for the night. Although it all dissipates when you get a series of texts from Kenma, minutes apart, realizing that he may be experiencing the same kind of jitters that you’re feeling. 

‘I dont know how to tie a fucking tie, time to cancel the date’ ‘This is harder than finishing Dark Souls’ ‘I got it, but Kuroo made fun of me and is a terrible teacher and now my feelings are hurt’

You zoom through getting ready, and with about 30-ish minutes until your 7PM reservation, the 25-minute Uber ride leaves you with just enough time to be early. And you’re given quite the shock when you step out of the car and you already see Kenma in front of the restaurant, head hung low as he scrolls through his phone. As you get closer, you notice he cleans up nicely in his smart black suit with his hair pulled back into a bun except for a few face-framing pieces. You make sure to call his name to get his attention, his head snapping up when he hears your voice.

“Wooow, look at you, Mr. Snazzy,” you comment, reaching up to straighten his tie. “I’ve never seen you so gussied up before. Must be quite the date for you to dust off your one and only suit.”

“I have a second suit,” he says defensively. “It’s gray because Kuroo says that’s a better color to wear for the daytime.”

“When did Kuroo become your fashion stylist?”

“When my publicist politely said that I looked like a scrub in all my other clothes during meetings.”

“...She never said anything about your hair, though?”

Kenma glares at you, definitely offended by the implication that his excessively grown out roots are unprofessional, to which you offer a small smile, hoping that he knows you meant it with love. 

“Let’s just go inside before I get insulted again tonight.” 

He pulls the door open for you—like the gentleman that he pretends to be—and steps up to greet the host before you can say anything.

“Hello, I have a reservation for 7PM. Kozume.”

Normally, you’d joke about him finally being able to speak to a server by himself, seeing as he still has to hype himself up sometimes before asking for extra ketchup when you’re eating out. You remember there being a time when he ordered marinara sauce with his cheesy bread from Domino’s and when it wasn’t included, he was fully prepared to leave and eat his bread dry to avoid talking to anyone. You ended up having to take the receipt up to the cashier and fixing the mistake so you didn’t have to see him somberly eating his sauceless bread.

The jokes slip your mind, however, as you take in the decor of the place. A few chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, sparkling under the low light from the sconces on the wall. Each table is decorated with a crisp white tablecloth and set with dark green trimmed plates, long-stem wine glasses, and folded cloth napkins around a simple floral centerpiece.

You’re observing the attire of the guests, feeling a bit underdressed, but also overdressed considering how effortless and chic most of the outfits are. The meals they’re eating look especially small, probably only a few bites on the giant plates. It’s a place definitely out of your comfort zone, one that you’d think would be nice to attend, but probably never would because it’s so bougie and you’d feel out of place.

Kenma’s hand on your lower back startles you out of your thoughts, and suddenly, you’re being guided toward the middle of the restaurant, a server in front of you to lead the way.

The server pulls out your chairs, providing menus and telling you that he’ll be back when you’re ready to order. Polite smiles and thanks are given as you settle in, draping your coats over the backs of your chairs and picking up the menus.

If you thought you felt out of place when you walked in, you’re definitely feeling it now. You scan the menu, trying not to look too stressed when you see the prices and can’t recognize or even read the foreign names of certain dishes, but from what you can read, nothing is sparking joy. You’re trying to get a read on Kenma, glancing up to see if he’s also having trouble picking something from the menu or if he’s confident about what to order, but his stoic face gives nothing away.

In an attempt to put out some feelers, you clear your throat before saying, “I’m not really sure what to pick. How about you? See anything you like?”

“I’m still looking, but nothing so far,” he responds, trailing off at the end as he watches a server bring some morsels of food plated on a bowl of rocks to the table next to you. It’s only then that can catch his eye and in them, you’re seeing the same feeling of bewilderment and unease from being in this setting. But it’s gone in a second, back to his normal flat expression.

But you definitely saw it, so now that you know the feeling’s mutual, you feel less bad about feeling it yourself. You let a few moments pass, with the menu held in front of your face, high enough that only your eyes peek out from over the top before you let out a suggestion.

“....You know we passed by a Domino’s on the way here, and now all I can think about are their wings.”

Kenma nearly slams the menu onto the table, eyes wide and ravenous for some food. “I want some of their cheesy bread so bad.”

“Wanna make a run for it?” You’re trying to be low-key when looking around for anyone that could be watching, gently setting the menu down and grabbing the collar of your coat, looking back to Kenma for confirmation. He’s already shoved one arm into the sleeve of his blazer and is scooting back his chair to stand, making sure to give you a nod so you know that it’s go time.

You’re not as graceful as Kenma is in your escape, nearly spilling someone’s drink while putting on your coat on the way out. You pick up your pace, ignoring Kenma’s glance and snickers. He reaches the door first, holding it open for you while you finally get your coat on. There’s a beat while you stand there before you both burst into giggles, nearly keeling over with laughter and tears in your eyes.

Finally, standing up straight after a few minutes, you gesture behind you. “Ready to go get a gourmet meal?” 

With an excited nod from Kenma, you walk side by side down the streets. You use the time to clown him for not knowing how to tie a tie, even suggesting that you’ll gift him a clip-on for future uses so he doesn’t hurt his little gamer hands trying to tie a knot. 

To which he responds with, “And I’ll light your Minecraft house on fire using my little gamer hands if you don’t shut up.”

Suddenly, you’re silent.

The Domino’s is a bit farther than it seemed while in the car, but eventually, you see the glowing blue and red symbol high up on the square building, rushing ahead to rip open the door so you can quickly usher Kenma inside and order as soon as possible.

Too much money later, you’re skipping out of Domino’s, wings and cheesy bread secured along with other impromptu boxes of goodies to take home. You’re both waiting at the corner while you pull open the Google Maps app to figure out the best place to catch a cab when you notice a spot nearby that piques your interest. 

“Did you know there’s an arcade around the corner?!” you nearly scream, shoving your phone in his face to show him Google Maps. 

“No, I didn’t know that,” he says, moving your phone at least a few inches away from his face. “Want to go there?”

“Won’t our food get cold though?”

“That’s what microwaves are for. Duh,” he jokes, grabbing your hand to guide you down the block to the illuminated storefront. You run in like children, making a beeline to the token machine. You begin reaching for your wallet when Kenma lets go of your hand, shoving your wallet away and aggressively pulling out money from his own.

You stare down at your palm in the meantime, feeling little tingles spread throughout it, flexing your fingers and no doubt looking like a weirdo.

Kenma has done his fair share of dragging you away from places, usually when you're glued to the glass window of a store that has anime knick-knacks you want but have absolutely no damn space for, but usually he just grabs your elbow or wrist. You could be overthinking it, but he must've grabbed your hand on purpose. Or you're just that desperate for physical affection. 

He shoves a handful of tokens into your open palm, putting his own into his pockets. The arcade suddenly feels so overwhelming, with lights and noises all around you. Should you try the crane games first? Or maybe some skee-ball? You could probably dominate him in that…

“Want to start with some air hockey?” Kenma suggests, pointing over to a free table in the corner. 

Yes. Air hockey. An easy win start. “Oh hell yeah, let’s do that.”

You shouldn’t have been so confident. It’s not turning out in your favor, not in the slightest, and you should’ve guessed that, going up against a guy who was the brain of his volleyball team. In your defense, you did win the first game, rubbing it in Kenma’s face and doing a dance like a sore winner. Then he absolutely demolished you for the next three rounds and had the gall to be humble about it like he didn’t just embarrass you in front of the many elementary school kids around you.

You would’ve kept going, being stubborn as hell and telling Kenma, “Best 5 out of 6?” until you got into double digits. But suddenly he has to “go use the bathroom,” which sounds like an excuse to you.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go too far,” he warns you.

And, to be fair, you don’t go too far. You only walk about twenty feet away to the anime crane game that’s hiding behind a row of other crane games that would be blocking Kenma’s view to you if he comes back the same way he left. He has a phone that he could use to text you if he really can’t find you. 

It’ll be fiiiine, you think as you slide in a token and get ready to win the anime figure. 

The time passes quickly, not that you notice it. All you know is that you’ve gone through maybe half of your tokens while trying to get the figure to fall between the two bars, only asking the staff to help you reposition once because you managed to mess it up that bad. 

It’s funny to think that you were more worried about sticking out like a sore thumb at the fancy restaurant than you are now at the arcade, surrounded by people of all ages in sneakers and jeans while you stand there at the claw machine in dress clothes with your nose nearly against the glass. Maybe they’ll think you’re an important business person coming by to decompress after a very long, busy day at work. 

Then you squawk when you finally score the prize after only several more dollars worth of coins, and the facade promptly sails out the window.

It’s only after you have the box in your arms that you decide to check the time, realizing you’ve spent at least ten minutes straight playing. What’s weirder is that Kenma still hasn’t returned yet, and you have no messages or missed calls from him asking where you’re at, which means he's either still in the bathroom–and if that’s the case, you’re deeply worried for his bowels–or he got distracted on his way back from it. 

You’re almost at the bathrooms when you see Kenma walking towards you from the corner of your eye, definitely not coming from the bathroom as you’d expect. 

“Where were you? I thought you said you had to go to the bathroom.” You notice he’s holding an overstuffed plastic bag. “What did you get? When the hell did you even have time? Or are you just that lucky?”

“Oh. This is, uh..” Suddenly, he’s sheepish, opening the plastic bag where you can see something fuzzy and pink in it. “I didn’t actually need to go to the bathroom. I saw a Kirby plush in a crane machine when we walked in and knew I had to get it for you.” 

Before you could even say anything, he’s pulling out the plush and you notice it’s not just a regular Kirby, but one with a chef hat and pan. You make grabby hands at it until he hands it over, trying to hold it just with one hand and squishing it against your chest and face. 

“I love him so much! Thank you, Kenma.” 

Like a lot of things tonight, it’s different from your normal friendly interactions. Instead of your usual hugs where you go in at a diagonal or the lazier times when it’s just a side hug, your arms are now wrapped around his neck with his around your waist. It feels weird. A good weird. Like you’re feeling the subtle change from friendship to something a little more. It’s hard not to get your hopes up because although you’ve told yourself that you’ll be good with being ‘just friends,’ throughout the night, you find yourself quite hopeful for the chance to explore something romantic with Kenma. 

You part slowly, him shoving Kirby back into the bag and insisting on holding it for you after you reach for it, which you suppose you could allow since he’s been such a gentleman tonight. 

“Great minds think alike because I got you a gift, too,” you announce, handing over the box you worked so hard for. “I don’t remember her name, but I know you have a few that look like her in your room, so what’s one more to add to your waifu collection.”

“Thanks for the gift, and also, for saying that so loud. I’m sure the whole arcade liked hearing about how much of a weeb I am.” He gives you a smile, somehow managing to stuff the box into the already full bag. “Want to spend the rest of our tokens then head to mine? I only have a few more.”

You pull your sad six out of your pocket. “Yeah, me too. That crane game wasn’t kind to me.”

You have a blast with the remaining tokens, staying away from crane games and sticking more to the classics. You learn that Kenma’s strategic thinking in volleyball does not translate over to basketball when you watch him miss every single basket of the game except for his last one in which he threw the ball against the back wall in frustration and landed right in the net.

Even when ordering the Uber minutes later, he still has a frown etched on his face from losing, and as much as you want to rub it in his face that now he’s feeling like you were after air hockey, you leave him to sit in his feelings. 

It’s a silent ride, at least on the outside. Internally, you’re an anxious, overthinking mess with your inner thoughts going a mile a minute. You spend the whole ride back to his place wondering if it’d be too forward of you to hold his hand that’s sitting on the seat between you two. It’s not like he didn’t hold your hand earlier tonight, even if it was only to drag you toward the arcade. Once you finally convince yourself that it’d be okay to try, the ride is over and his hand slips away to open the car door and you sigh as you lose your chance to be brave. 

When you’re home, Kenma’s tie and shirt undone and your dress shoes thrown haphazardly by the door, you finally get to discuss your thoughts on the restaurant. About how stuffy it felt in your formal clothes and how ridiculous the plating looked for the meals because you didn’t know what they’d even be able to taste with a portion size that small. Kenma even thanks you for breaking the ice by bringing up Domino’s because if you never did it “you’d still be in that restaurant having your 12th course of the meal.”

You swallow your bite and take a quick sip of your drink. “Why did you even choose that restaurant in the first place? Doesn’t feel like a place you’d be at.”

Kenma shrugs, brushing off the crumbs from his hands. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t want our first date to be just like any other night we’d had. I wanted it to stand out from the rest so you can know that I’m serious about you.”

Your heart just about bursts hearing his gentle voice say that. “That’s… So sweet. I don’t know what to say to that besides thank you. Never knew you could be so charming.”

“Don’t expect it too often,” he jokes, to which you respond with an elbow to his ribs. “I know today didn’t go as expected, so maybe we can try again with a different restaurant.” 

“Maybe—and this is me just spitballing here—we should work our way up to the formal dress restaurants by starting with something simple like… Applebee’s.”

“I feel like Applebee’s is somehow a worse starting point than a place like McDonald’s.”

“Fiiiine. Since you have so much to say, then you pick where we’re eating for our next date. Just make sure I can get away with wearing sneakers and jeans, is all I’m saying.”

“Who said we were actually going on a second date? I don’t know if I want to date someone who eats wings like a toddler.” He reaches over with a napkin to wipe the corners of your mouth which you begrudgingly allow.

“Well, I don’t know if I want to date someone who waits until 48 fucking hours before the date to tell me that I have to put together a whole formal outfit for a restaurant.” Kenma looks away abruptly, but not before you see his shameless smirk. “Why the hell did you even take so long?” 

“I had to use some connections to get a reservation there within the week, and they didn’t get back to me until Thursday, so you knew when I knew!” 

“Hm… okay. I’ll let that one slide then. For now.” 

“So, I can get a second date?” 

“If you insist.”

Kenma puts what’s left of your food in his fridge with the promise of leftovers tomorrow. You help him tidy up a bit, taking your sweet time because it’s finally dawned on you that the date will be ending soon. You’re hit with a wave of disappointment, realizing just how much you enjoyed his company all day. And maybe it’s silly, but you don’t want it to end just yet.

When you’ve thrown away the last napkin, you slide in next to him in the kitchen, bumping shoulders with him before hooking your arm with his. “Wanna finish watching that anime you showed me? The one with the long title?”

He lets out an amused chuckle. “Glad you enjoyed it so much that you remember the name, but sure.”

He lets you guide him to the couch by his arm, plopping yourselves down on it while he grabs his remote to pick the show from his ‘continue watching’ section.

Halfway through the episode, you scooch even closer to Kenma so you can lean on him, your head gently resting on his shoulder to test the waters. He lifts his arm up to grasp you tighter, fingers trailing up and down your upper arm without looking away from the screen. You peer up at him to see a little smile on his face—hoping it’s because of your current position and not because of the atrocities happening on the screen. You’re rarely this close to Kenma. The closest you get to him on the daily is him leaning over you to fix some computer issues or you peering over his shoulder to watch him play on his Switch. 

You’ve never paid attention to his warm amber scent mixed with something floral, probably from his conditioner he told you he overpaid for because he thought it was on sale. How plush his hoodie is and how you’re definitely going to be “borrowing” it as a partner tax in the future. Or how the ends of his hair that’s tickling your face are really soft, no doubt because of that expensive conditioner, and you fight the urge to play with a few pieces. You could get used to being with him if this is what you’d be getting every day.

You manage to last another episode and a half before his soft touch lulls you to sleep, a smile mirroring his on your face.

You have a funny dream that night; you and Kenma are at an Applebee’s, both dressed in your grubbiest hoodies and sweats, while the subpar food sits untouched in front of you. He’s holding one of your hands on the table, stroking his thumb back and forth on the back of yours, the other hand keeping his head propped. You’re telling a story, laughing and waving your free hand around as you delve deep into it. To everybody else, you’re sure Kenma looks bored out of his mind, probably waiting for you to stop talking or at least get to the good part. But you know him better than that.

You can see the affection in his eyes as he doesn’t break eye contact with you, humming in acknowledgment wherever necessary so you know he’s actually listening. He’s squeezing your hand every now and again just because he can. His phone is face down on the far end of the table, most likely on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because you don’t hear a single vibration against the table. 

You’ve got his complete and undivided attention until he decides to get off his seat to lean over the table. You quiet down immediately, unsure of what the hell he’s going to do until he tilts his head and gently kisses you on your lips, lasting only a second before promptly sitting down and telling you to continue your story as if nothing happened. 

Non-dream Kenma would never do something so bold in public. At least, you don’t think so. 

But, goddammit, even if it means writing a script and playing director, you’re going to try your fucking hardest to make sure it happens exactly like your dream during your second date.

Written by: Luna

we’ve got a taglist if you’re interested 👀

[wyervan]

hiiii just wanna start off by saying I love your art style and general vibes ✨️ I'm a stay-at-home partner always in search of fun things to do, and I've recently gotten back into art after not engaging with it since I was a kid (largely because your sun n moon fixation rubbed off on me 😭). I've never tried digital art and it looks cool! Do you have any advice for a beginner like me?

Oh it makes me so happy when people say I inspired them to start creating again 😭 The DCA and the fandom brought me out of my own years-long artistic funk last spring. Clown power, yeehonk 🤠 🤡

I’m planning a significantly longer post in response to an ask I got ages ago all how I learned to draw the way I do, so lookout for that.

But in the meantime, here’s a couple things I can think of off the top of my head:

Specific tools don’t matter much. I currently use Procreate and would recommend it if you have an IPad. It’s an extremely simple but effective program.

On desktop, I use Clip Studio Pro, but Krita is another program I’ve used and liked AND it’s completely free.

I do also have loads of experience with Photoshop and other Adobe products but can’t recommend them at the price, not to mention they’re not super beginner friendly.

Hardware-wise, I almost exclusively use my IPad to draw because it’s so portable. I also have a Huion Kamvas pen tablet monitor that hooks up to my desktop. But I started doing digital art with a dinky lil Wacom tablet that was less than $100. There’s definitely a bit of a disconnect at first, not looking at where you’re drawing but rather on a screen, but you get used to it.

Bottom line is to use whatever tools are convenient and comfortable for you! I even know of a great artist that exclusively draws with their mouse. I realized I hated sitting at a desk and that stopped me from practicing digitally. I got an IPad and now it’s much easier for me to work comfortably on what I love.

Point two I’d like to make is take advantage of the capabilities of working digitally. This means using the godsent undo button to your heart’s content. Download fun brushes to play with and add texture. Use perspective grids. Turn on line stabilization so your strokes are extra smooth. Like what you’ve sketched so far but want to try something different? Duplicate the layer and work from there so you can go back to the old version if you change your mind. Radically change the colors or values with adjustment layers. Use clipping masks. Abuse the liquify tool.

A lot of this might sound like gobbledygook to a digital art beginner but just googling any of this terminology will get you loads of tutorials and information for your specific setup. Also I’m happy to go into details about specific digital art techniques I’ve picked up with over a decade and a half of experience.

Finally, and most importantly—make what you want to see in the world AND what feels good to make. This ofc is not exclusive to digital art, but I always want to stress this to new artists. I realized after I got into the DCA fandom that I had been letting shame, fear, and perfectionism keep me from creating the content I was really interested in making. But then man, idk. Frickin’ robot clowns amirite ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’s like there was a secret agent sent into my brain and he uploaded a DCA virus into my mainframe or smth idk hacker style. tktktktkt. they’re in.

Anyway. Hope this helps! Feel free to send another message if u have more questions :3

[clonewarslover55]

I’m sad that there’s nothing about Commander Monk too :(

May we please fix that? Maybe some SFW/NSFW headcanons :)

Hell yeah we can fix that!!! I was super excited to do this!! 

This got me out of my writing funk!! I'm back babyyy

Commander Monnk relationship headcanons SFW and NSFW

(There are some general head canons as well, I had way too much fun with his character. I mention Kit Fisto a lot in here as well)

Notes: We don’t see much of Monnk so I had to make up a good portion of his character myself. Which I had too much fun doing, so this is kinda long

Also there is no official regiment name(Like the 501st or 212th) for Kist Fisto, Commander Monnk and their boys?!?!?!?!? So I think I should fix that eventually....

Gif incase you guys don't remember how smoking fucking hot he is

SFW

This man probably loves literally any body of water 

He loves swimming and all that jazz 

But you def meet him at coruscant drinking and relaxing with some of his fellow scuba boys 

He isn’t strictly a scuba trooper 

He is Kit Fisto’s 24/7 second in command, so he does work on land too

So he looks like your typical “I deal with a crazy Jedi every day and don’t get enough sleep.” clone commander  

He is probably watching a few of his friends dance around and flirt poorly 

As he leans against the bar with a drink in his hand 

He looks kinda tired and unamused by the bar scene 

But don’t underestimate him 

This man is definitely a flirt 

And damn is he good!! 

He has learned from the best 

The best? Kit Fisto 

Kit has taught him how to charm the pants off of anybody 

Does it work? 

Maybe

But Monnk isn’t the one to not text you after a date or night of fun 

You get a good morning and things keep going from there 

Most of your dates are, of course, at your place 

Monnk shows up with flowers and snacks 

If you make dinner he would love to help! 

He doesn’t know jack shit about cooking 

All he can do is make a mean cup of coffee and some instant cup noodles 

But he wants to learn and learn fast! 

Monnk can be trusted in the kitchen too, he won’t burn down your home

As your relationship grows over time, Monnk’s cooking improves 

Soon he begins to cook for you! And he's good at it!

He brags to his brothers and definitely brings some leftovers to them 

Maybe he cooks for them, maybe he tells them to learn for themselves 

It’s both 

Like all clones, Monnk is touched starved 

This man just wants some cuddles 

And for someone who isn’t a fellow clone to braid his hair 

Monnk definitely has long hair

And melts when you run your fingers through it 

Tracing your fingers along his stubble? He is goo in your hands 

Just touch him, he needs it 

He tries to look all cool and badass (He thinks he is too)

With his matching tattoo sleeves (definitely matches his armor markings and colorings)

And his cool hair and five o’clock shadow 

And that tired look in his eyes

But he is just a big ol’ teddy bear who wants love 

And you are here to provide it 

Monnk is a big time cuddler 

He loves being your weighted blanket 

Just holding you and touching you makes his heart content 

This does mean that he is a slight fan of PDA 

He isn’t extreme with it or too possessive 

Just a tiny bit 

He loves holding your hand, fiddling with your fingers

Monnk doesn’t mess around when it comes to falling in love 

He falls HARD for you (The feeling is of course mutual) 

And is soon making himself right at home in your Coruscant apartment 

You definitely buy him some cozy pajamas and sweatpants 

So he can lounge around in comfort 

In turn he brings you back presents from his missions 

It is often a beautiful rock or a pretty seashell 

Working as a scuba trooper means he has many opportunities to find you cool things 

And boy does he! You have a lot of cool things from his adventures 

Mostly seashells, but one time he brings you home a big ass tooth 

Monnk has a tiny tiny hint of surfer bro in him 

A TINY BIT 

He is flirtatious and very charming 

But sweet! 

He definitely picked up a bit of Kit Fisto’s personality 

So he has great humor and keeps you on your toes 

In every way ;)

Sometimes when he comes home, he’ll just haul you up into his arms and give you a spin 

Monnk loves doing anything he can to keep things interesting and fresh

Everytime he comes home after a mission you get a different kind of greeting 

But he always, ALWAYS, gives you a big kiss 

This man is obsessed with your lips and giving them smooches 

Which you don’t mind because this man is an excellent kisser 

But something he is better at is being a good friend and listener 

He will always be your shoulder to cry on 

He always listens to what you have to say 

Monnk loves every story you have 

He has some good ones himself! 

You two can spend hours just talking to one another 

Enjoying each others company is the perfect date for Monnk 

That and bubble baths 

He loves water, and is in it often, so baths are a good time for him 

He’ll try to be romantic 

And boy howdy is he!! 

He’ll try to set up cute dates and outings with you 

He demands one, sometimes two, date nights per leave 

Monnk gets leave often, not as much as the 501st of course 

Kit is needed on Triple Zero(Coruscant) often 

Monnk tries his hardest to spend every moment with you 

If he can’t he will make up for it 

Monnk thinks you are absolutely beautiful/handsome and lets you know! 

He is always telling you how much he adores and loves you 

And how magnificent you are 

He always has some compliments to give you

He’ll notice the smallest things too

New haircut? He loves it!! New jewelry! He loves it, especially since it's on you!

Being in war leads to PTSD, and of course most, if not all, of the clones have it to a degree 

Including Monnk 

His comes in nightmares, so he doesn’t sleep well or often 

Until he meets you 

The first night he sleeps in your bed he sleeps like the dead  

He sleeps so much better at your side

Holding you in his arms or being held in yours just helps! 

This doesn’t mean that the nightmares stay away completely 

He still has them from time to time 

But with you there to help? They’re never as bad as they used to be 

Monnk absolutely loves you, and he tells you daily 

He has to make sure you remember after all ;)

 

NSFW 

I feel like Kit Fisto makes sure his men know how to properly fuck 

He has a slideshow or something 

So Monnk knows what he is doing down there 

He has a good memory and is a fast learner 

So he quickly learns what makes you tick 

And he never forgets 

Monnk is very attuned at what you like 

Monnk wants nothing more than to pleasure you 

He’ll make sure to always do what you like

Kinky or not! 

Monnk is down for anything

Not at anytime though, he isn’t really down for public sex 

He doesn’t want to get caught or in trouble 

Unless it is on a beach, one of his fantasies is taking you to a nice quiet beach somewhere and just railing you 

Maybe even having another round in the ocean afterwards  

Being a scuba trooper means he has a good set of lungs 

So when he is giving you oral he doesn’t need to take a single breather 

He is down there and giving you the works! 

Monnk loves your taste, and he makes sure you know it by his pleasant noises 

His scruff always tickles you a bit, but it just adds to to the sensation 

Monnk is VERY patient, especially when it comes(pun intended) to you 

He can spend hours just teasing you

Bringing you to the very edge, just to not let you cum

He loves teasing you some, but he isn’t too extreme 

But he never leaves you hanging! He always makes sure you cum 

No matter what, you’re going to cum. Even if it is just a quickie! 

Always making sure you cum is his one rule 

Is this a rule that Kit Fisto gave him? Definitely, and Monnk is a good rule follower 

Which makes things fun when he isn’t topping 

If you two ever play any “games” where he has to listen to you and follow orders? Oh he will 

Monnk will do anything for you, he loves you so much! He’ll try anything once

Monnk will also cum where ever you want him too, he’ll do it pretty much anywhere 

Inside you, painting you in it, whatever you want 

All clones have a bit of a breeding kink, but his isn’t too bad 

So he doesn’t HAVE to cum inside you, but he does enjoy it 

Painting you in it also does something to him

He just enjoys marking you, no matter if it is with cum or with love bites 

He loves kissing you during sex, his mouth hardly leaves your body 

He just can’t help himself! You’re just so kissable 

Monnk is a romantic, so he loves some soft intimate nights 

Fucking you slowly, hitting every spot so perfectly 

But he isn’t always soft and romantic 

Sometimes he fucks like a beast 

He loves taking you roughly until you’re both spent and out of breath 

Monnk enjoys when he has time with you, so he has time to properly worship your body 

Monnk thinks you are the most beautiful person in the galaxy 

And he lets you know! 

Through words, praises, and actions 

He loves praising you during sex, he is always throwing compliments and soft phrases your way 

He likes praise in return, but he prefers touch 

Run your nails down his spine, make him shiver

Bury your hands into his hair, it’ll drive him nuts 

Any sort of touching, rough or soft, drives monnk wild 

Monnk enjoys quickies, but he doesn’t like them as much because he can’t do much aftercare, if any at all 

He also doesn't like it because he doesn’t have the amount of time to properly worship your body 

He is great at aftercare, he makes you feel so loved and cared for 

He’ll clean you up and sometimes even draw up a warm bath 

Bathtub sex almost always happens though 

He loves some good ol’ sex in some water 

But it all depends on what you guys did and how tired you are 

Because sometimes Monnk will leave you both so spent that you want to sleep immediately 

He’ll give the softest kisses afterwards 

After you guys cool down and relax in the afterglow, he is down for pillow talk 

He actually loves pillow talk 

But by the end of the night, he makes sure you fall asleep safe and sound in his arms

[mickmundy]

To celebrate the ending of Malus and as we gear up to go into part 6 of my bushmedicine series, Thou Giveth Fever this Friday, I wanted to take a minute and make a post dedicated to the titles of my fics and the symbolism of the posters I make for them! ^_^ Like the fics themselves, I put a lot of thought into the symbolism of these covers and what they foreshadow and/or symbolize! :-) This obviously does contain spoilers for my fics but I think it could be a fun read even if you don’t read them (but perhaps this will Entice You… hehe)! Hopefully this will shed some light on some things that my amazing readers have already taken notice of, but it might also make you look at the wips I've posted with a different view...! Let’s get started!

Wasserballon is obviously first... and for the plant choice... coffee! But of course! Wasserballon sets up for the rest of my fics by starting it all... with Sniper's cup of coffee! Sniper’s love for his favorite drink (and not having any brewed in his camper at the time… lucky him!) is what wound up getting him caught by Medic, who insists that he comes to the infirmary. Medic offers Sniper to bring his coffee with him, trying to make the visit seem less… formal. Both of them are very stubborn people by nature, but I think Sniper also knows when he’s better off listening to others. For some reason, it puts him at ease that he can bring his drink. As you are no doubt aware I cannot stand the fanon take of Sniper fearing Medic or fearing the infirmary. I think you can prefer to avoid something without being afraid of it! He just likes to solve his own problems, and doesn’t like asking for help. Plus, I think Medic and Sniper would both have a strange like… funk around their relationship after the comics; they don’t hate each other and they aren’t Magically Inclined to be best friends all of a sudden… and they never really spoke about what happened at Gray Gravel again…. Until my fics! Heh!

The title choice is pretty straight forward; Medic explains to Sniper about how a heart that goes under too much strain from the medigun (lore which is elaborated on later in Soft Break) can quite literally explode like a water balloon, or a wasserballon! He leaves his #1 SNIPER cup in the infirmary after he walks out in a bit of a flustered panic. I think Sniper's someone who could appreciate an attractive person regardless how he feels about them, but this is also the first time he and Medic had really talked since his revival. And it's very small talk! Work-related, very simple. But their boots touch, and... Sniper feels... something.

I don't like to dwell on the zing itself since I feel like a lot of fics/stories in general spend a lot of time trying to track the precise moment the characters fall in love… and for me that's just not how I see Medic and Sniper's romance. It sneaks up on you, just like it did on them! Hehe! Maybe it was listening to Medic talk about the medigun function, maybe it was the touching of the boots, or the insistence that Medic heal him and Sniper's acceptance of that help... maybe it was the revival operation itself and things are just starting to bubble up now... maybe it was everything and nothing! Who knows! You decide (and let me know what you think... hehe)! I like leaving some things like this up to reader interpretation; it’s fun to hear everyone’s different takeaways!

Birdsong is the second fic in my series… There's nothing like the singing of birds! Especially to Medic and Sniper, whose birds bring them together again, giving Medic the opportunity to return Sniper's precious mug. Both are a bit apprehensive about the interaction; Medic hasn't so much as stepped within five feet of Sniper's van the entire time he’s known him, so it feels... personal to stand atop it with him and share some drinks while they watch their pets play.

Medic finds out that Sniper has been feeding Archimedes little treats when he flies about Teufort and finds it very endearing; nobody ever even tried to get to know Medic's best friend, and here Sniper was, of all people, doting on him like he doted on his own pets. People love making Medic devoid of sentiment in fanon but i think he is very much the opposite; he's quite emotional and just because he might value things a little unconventionally doesn't mean he doesn't value anything at all, and his doves are (I think) something he cherishes above all else. Thanks, Archimedes and Sniper's mug!

The choice for the poster is an olive branch, or, two of them. Medic and Sniper "extend the olive branch" to each other by spending time together as... teamfriends? Friendmates? Something! Their talk is a little rough at first, both of them kind of going into it with preconceived perceptions of each other; Sniper thinks Medic is cold and/or would be mad at him for feeding Archimedes (when the opposite is true), and Medic expects Sniper to tell him to go away, that he prefers to be alone (or at least that he doesn't enjoy the doctor's company), and that's not true either! They're both realizing they've known each other for so long but they know... nothing about one another… and the things they thought they knew, well, were completely wrong!

Medic treads a delicate line with bringing up Sniper's revival, and is made aware of just how deep Sniper's professional principles run; while it was easy for Sniper to brush off the fact that he was alive again, I think it would also weigh heavily on him to be deemed worthy of the revival itself. And, well, being dead meant he didn't have to think about all of the emotional hang-ups he had when he was alive... but now he has to deal with them again! And more besides! Both expect the conversation to absolutely tank their "relationship", but are mutually surprised that they emerge from the conversation feeling... better. 

Medic is much more direct than Sniper is and never feels any need to censor himself for any reason; if people don't like him, he doesn't care! But now he starts to think that he does care if Sniper likes him, and that perhaps he has to remind himself to be a little more sensitive, even if his "direct" way of speaking isn't always meant to be insulting, it's just how he is! And Sniper works through the same; he learns he doesn't need to be on the defensive, that conversations don't all have to be nosy personal attacks.

By this point, Medic has been entertaining the idea that Sniper's "last words" (that were to his parents; I think he was dreaming/hallucinating, I don't think he Literally went to heaven. But I digress) were calling out to him and asking him for heals. You know, the "meet the Medic choir" playing and Sniper saying Medic! I need ya, doctor! Because it strokes Medic's ego! “Of course these dummkopfs need me, I'm glad this stubborn one is finally realizing it!” But no, actually, it has nothing to do with Medic. LOL. Dents his ego a little bit! They both have kind of a vulnerable moment where some of that Emotionally-Guarded Shield is stripped a bit. 

Sniper apologizes for lashing out at him back then and Medic apologizes for misinterpreting his words (which is, I think, a massive deal for someone like Medic, who fancies himself a bit of a know-it-all!). An apology for an apology, and they feel better for it. As Medic departs for the night, Sniper begins to realize that that was probably one of the most productive "emotional conversations" he's ever had in his life, and it was with Medic of all people. What does that mean? Why did he feel that way, and why now? Medic feels similarly and finds he can't keep his eyes off of Sniper, who he finds staring up at his window with... perhaps equal yearning?

Muhelos begins with Sniper tossing out compliments on Medic’s battle style and, after the rough talk they had, Medic definitely didn't see it coming! Sniper waxes poetic in his tower about Medic and is relieved to be able to safely observe him from afar; his preferred method of viewing the world, given his profession! After a hard-earned victory, Heavy and Spy notice the… chemistry change between their friends and pull each of them aside to speak to them about what they’re feeling. Heavy and Spy give each of them anecdotes about their own relationship and about how love is subjective, defined by those who are brave enough to feel it and act upon it. Nothing has to be conventional or traditional!

Medic states that once he and Sniper both relax, their dynamic is muhelos, which means effortless. But getting to that point is still perhaps a little bumpy! Heavy stresses the importance of strong foundations with Medic and Spy advises Sniper to not be so wrapped up in conventionality. This weighs heavily on Medic and Sniper both and opens their minds up to allowing themselves to feel more complicated about one another and that this shouldn’t be something that feels bad, it should be freeing! Medic nearly instantly allows himself to feel this way (as is his nature), whereas Sniper, well, remains a bit more… hung up on it!

The white camellias on the cover can be symbolic of respect (something that is growing steadily between Medic and Sniper as the story progresses), and/or everlasting love. While Medic and Sniper certainly aren’t at that point quite yet, Spy and Heavy certainly are, and they’re definitely the people who can give Medic and Sniper the heart-to-hearts they need! They’ve been together for a while, and Heavy tells Medic that even though he and Spy got off to quite the rocky start as friends, they are happier than ever now that they’re together. 

Of course, the mourning dove pair is because, well, Medic has a litany of doves, and in this fic Sniper also helps the doctor find and take care of one of his mourning doves after it escaped. And Sniper gives Medic a name to match Medic’s Spatz for him… Dovey! Ah! So sweet, so fitting! He invites Sniper to the infirmary to aid him in his beloved creature’s care and Sniper quickly agrees, which surprises both of them. Sniper wants to spend time in the infirmary?! Unheard of! Medic picks Sniper’s brain about animal care and finds out that Sniper actually has quite the gentle heart (something he’d been learning about him recently) when he tells him about Hootsalot and his relationship with his bird-best-friend. 

Their conversation drifts back to their work and Medic lets Sniper know that his efforts are greatly appreciated, something that Sniper never even though Medic noticed or cared about. Medic insists the contrary and toys with him a little bit, asks him to consider asking Medic if healing him really would be such a chore, to which the doctor cheekily replies that he’d love to help Sniper, any time, always, and the pair joke about Medic coming to see Sniper in his tower on the field. Another instance of clear communication, once they find out how to do so. The fic ends with Sniper considering that complex feelings aren't actually bad and that exploring why and how he feels the way he does is just as important as feeling the feelings themselves! Be kind to yourself, and give yourself time to feel and process those feelings!

Soft Break lets us see Medic and Sniper together in combat, and together off-base, for the first time. This is a huge test of their slowly-budding feelings for one another! After a tense battle with an enemy BLU Spy (who Medic ends up finishing off with the assassin’s own ambassador), Medic rushes to heal Sniper and they talk about the science of the medigun’s technology (you can read a summarized breakdown of this lore here!), noting that healing Sniper is a fun new challenge for him because he doesn’t know Sniper’s heart like he knows the mercs’ whom he heals regularly. Medic is quite excited that Sniper is curious, since nobody else really is… and wants to go further in-depth until… they are interrupted. Sad!

But not to worry… they both find themselves at the local bar with their teammates later that night, and Sniper finds himself yearning to play a game of billiards to get away from the slowly-rising commotion his friends are creating. He wants to talk to Medic but swiftly gives up before he even tries, noting how it’s probably best that everything sticks to the status quo (you can see some of my thoughts on the merc cliques in this post). However, Medic has other plans! To the stunned silence of the mercenaries, Medic approaches Sniper and asks him to play some pool with him. Sniper eagerly obliges and the two begin their dance around the table. Both are studying one another and how they play; Medic is simply matching Sniper shot for shot, and Sniper is drawing the game out in hopes that Medic isn’t getting bored with him. Imagine that! Ha! 

While the title of this fic can be interpreted to mean there is something like a “gentle breakthrough” in their relationship, it’s actually a billiards term! (I happen to be a lover of the game myself so this was a fun little addition for me heh) A “soft break” is roughly defined as “A break shot in which the rack is disturbed as little as possible in order to force the opponent to have to break it up further.” Medic and Sniper are tiptoeing around each other on the table and in real life, flirting and lightly pushing one another to keep flirting. Medic of course is much more abrasive, but even he is cautious and wants to be respectful of Sniper’s boundaries. Sniper wants to flirt back and is jealous of Medic’s ability to be so brazen about his feelings, but can’t seem to get himself to act. 

This is how I personally deal/t with my own internalized homophobia while trying to process my very not-heterosexual feelings with my delayed processing issues (<- autism trait)… Sniper wants to tell Medic how he feels and how he’s making him feel, but there’s a voice inside of him that says No, don’t do it. It’s not safe to tell him this. Should be obvious, but that’s internalized fear of being recognized as What you are as well as What you’re feeling. Medic’s starting to realize that Sniper’s struggle with his feelings runs much deeper than his own and remains sympathetic and patient, trying to learn Sniper’s communication language and interpret his signs and signals… coincidentally, just like learning to tune the medigun to him! Hoo! What convenient symbolism! It’s a gentle push-and-pull, relying on each other to bring more advances forward and to act on those feelings in a way that’s genuine… but not overpowering. Soft break! 

Sniper encourages Medic to talk about his medigun science from earlier and they reach an understanding that perhaps they aren’t as incompatible as they always thought, off the field or on it. They get interrupted once again and Sniper ends up having to take Medic back to the base in his van… which begins in complete and total awkward silence. Medic is fascinated by the inside of Sniper’s van’s cab and Sniper is completely wrapped up in having no idea what to say to start a conversation, until he brings up music! Yet another thing they have in common! They both daydream about making music together, both literally and as a euphemism for sex.. Which will come up later in my next fic! ;-)

The most important, though, as seen on the poster, is yarrow, and their mutual connection to Medicine and botany. Their ship name is bush medicine, of course! Sniper hastily pulls over to harvest some yarrow and Medic is all too enthusiastic to help. He loves getting his hands dirty! Their knees touch and Sniper admits that he loves hearing Medic talk, and prefers to be the listener than the talker (a nod to Heavy’s previous allusion that this would be precisely their dynamic!) and both of them express that they had fun with each other tonight, something that they were both perhaps a little mutually surprised about! So it is possible for them to enjoy each other outside of work/off-base… hmm…!

Yarrow is a plant that has a wide number of medical uses and something that both Sniper and Medic could certainly find use for on and off the field! I do think it’s interesting that both of them having this as a talking point doesn’t come up more in ship dynamics with them since Sniper is a survivalist and surely has had to patch himself up billions of times since coming to Teufort! And they both kind of have an oh duh! moment about it because I think that’s something that happens in real relationships/friendships too. Like an innocent overlooking of the people right in front of you this whole time! But now that they’re starting to fall for one another, they start seeing things they previously never even thought to ask about…!

Malus is fic lucky number five!! Even more time has passed and Medic and Sniper are now much more comfortable with each other; we’ve seen their bond getting stronger and stronger over time, to the point where Sniper feels comfortable giving Medic gifts! Gifts! Good for you, Sniper! They also have become more comfortable touching one another, letting their bodies brush against each other’s on the bush ride home… Sniper tries to discreetly leave Medic some of the herbs and fruits he gathered, but gets caught by the doctor himself! Medic offers him to come back to his infirmary to bake a pie with the apples he’s harvested, and Sniper hesitantly agrees.

At this point in their journey together, it feels like such a slow burn. Total agony! When are they just going to get together for God’s sake?! But when you read over the story as a whole, it actually kind of flies by! And that’s a weird thing about love; just like how you can’t really tell when Medic and Sniper felt their “zing”, you also feel like it’s somehow both dragging and moving really fast! My fics can be experienced totally differently depending on how you read them, which I wanted to figure out how to do because I think it’s interesting that so many different people can read into it so differently! And being told that people can relate to my fics really is immensely flattering to me ;__;!!

That said, Medic and Sniper both kind of feel this now, too. Things are moving so fast and also so slowly, and their feelings for one another are really starting to become... Un-ignorable. Both of them were previously pondering these feelings in spare moments between work and personal hobbies, etc but now they’re starting to bleed into each other… to Medic, Sniper is his work, and someone he now shares hobbies with and also feels connected to him through them (medicine, their birds bonding together)... and while Sniper doesn’t feel like Medic is his work in the same sense, he does feel like Medic is quite literally a part of him. Anytime he looks at the scars on his chest and arms, he thinks of him, thinks of how he feels about him… they’re both in each other’s minds nearly all the time now! 

While they’re baking, Sniper shares an anecdote about hunger and how he’s always kind of felt like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to be doing, like he’s yearning for things he shouldn’t be… in Sniper’s story, it’s very literal, but he’s also kind of testing the waters with Medic to see if he’s going to judge him for that or not (the obvious answer is why the hell would Medic judge him for that when he’s the king of self-indulgence?! And you’d be correct, but this is also a metaphor for coming out… testing the waters before you divulge something about yourself that people could potentially take issue with. Very scary feeling! Don’t worry Sniper, Medic would never )... and Medic not only sympathizes with Sniper but he wants to encourage that behavior and nurture it. It’s not a sin to want or to feel, after all.

I delve into Sniper’s relationship with wanting in the companion analysis post I made so I won’t talk about it as in-depth here. I want to use this time to turn some attention onto Medic and how he’s faring in all of this! Throughout my fics, you’ll notice that we don’t spend nearly as much time in Medic’s head as we do in Sniper’s. That’s intentional! I think Medic is someone who is truly unpredictable, and in order for him to be a wildcard, sometimes not even we the readers know what’s going on in his head, and he likes it that way! He’s much more assured than Sniper is, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t complicated for him, too. While this entire time he’s been miraculously calm about his budding feelings for Sniper, things are starting to set in as much more real to him. The cut and dry professional relationship they’ve both always favored is beginning to slip as they both find themselves wanting more (and are coming to terms with and acknowledging their sexual desire for one another as well)... 

And something very important, of course, is the sharing of the names (which i’ve elaborated on here) so i’ll keep it short; it’s a very euphoric experience, being known as the person you want to be known as; incorrect perceptions of us can make us feel so small! They’ve both acknowledged that they had misconceptions about one another, but Medic is now taking it further by asking Sniper what he wants to be known as. Wanting to know him as more than just the RED Sniper, but as Michael (or, Michel! Hoo!), his friend… someone more than just an experiment or a coworker. The power of a chosen name… ;-) Very big deal!

And of course, the apples on the cover! Literally, apples are involved because they bake a pie with apples Sniper harvested for them (which is of course also a nod to all of the cute apple cosmetics we get in game!), but… apples also represent temptation, desire… hunger. This is the first time that they both admit they enjoy one another’s company (both too afraid to say anything more, but for different reasons), and they are both much more unabashed about checking each other out (even if it’s mostly when the other isn’t looking!). I think Medic and Sniper are two people who would have always (albeit passively) considered each other attractive, but now there’s both romantic and sexual feelings in the mix. They’re both being forced to realize that they don’t want just a one night stand and they don’t want to be just friends, and that middle ground is vast… and very overwhelming!! 

The word malus is nothing more than the scientific word for apples, but its use here unifies the art of the apple (baking the pie) and the science of it (the title)... obviously we know Medic happens to enjoy both art and science (and often conflates the two!) but so does Sniper. And the two of them are very much a merging of those two concepts that are famously so different… and yet… so compatible! Art and science, speaking with the heart or the mind, etc… A lot like Medic and Sniper! This fic (and the ones before them) focus a lot on how different they are, because, well, Medic and Sniper themselves focus a lot on that! But this fic also emphasizes how good they are together, how two completely different people can come together and make (and be) something truly marvelous!

I love using fruit as literary devices in my writing and we are just getting started! Closing out this fic has Medic requesting some apricot preserves from Sniper and touching on their shared enjoyment of the symbolism the apricot shares between them; for Sniper, it’s the spot that one aims for to get the ideal headshot, and for Medic, it’s the connection of the skull and the spine, the physical and the mental… interesting! Apricots become a much more prominent symbol in my next fic, and I am so excited to share it with you all!! 

Medic also expresses some of his own insecurities, wondering if things are still moving too fast or too slow (or if it’s simply too late) between him and Sniper and reflects on his own childhood for only a moment-! As I’ve said, it’s intentional that we haven’t seen a lot of Medic’s own monologues like we have of Sniper’s. He likes being unpredictable, after all! But things are starting to bleed and slip into one another.,., neatly defined categories for human interactions are starting to become very messy…! Which puts Ludwig at war with himself; he loves chaos when he’s the one creating it, but if it’s not chaos curated by his hand, well… maybe even he can get a little emotionally twisted up! And keep an eye on that pomegranate symbolism… we surely won’t be seeing the last of it!

ALRIGHT EVERYONE WHEW THAT WAS SO LONG!! THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME THIS LONG ILYYYY and I hope you enjoyed it!! ^v^ This Friday I will begin posting Fever, the newest fic in my bushmed series, with a two-chapter upload to start it off with a bang! Thou Giveth Fever has been a huge emotional journey for me and I’m so so so elated that so many wonderful readers are along for the ride! I’m excited (and nervous!) to bare my soul to you with these next coming fics, kind strangers and friends alike, and thank you endlessly for all of your support!! <333 

[thisaintascenereviews]

Brothers Osborne - S/T

Country music was thrown for a loop in 2021 when TJ Osborne, one half of Brothers Osborne, came out as gay. That’s not unusual in itself, but for country music, it is. Openly LGBTQ musicians are hard to come by, minus Brandy Clark, Brandi Carlile, or Orville Peck, but they’re not extremely mainstream, so it’s more telling that a mainstream country artist came out. It’s telling due to the fanbase that most country music has, at least mainstream country. There are plenty of underground queer artists, but for the mainstream, they’re rare. That was the main topic of discussion before Brothers Osborne put out their fourth album, this time a self-titled album, because they said they were reinventing themselves with this one. I’ve said before that self-titled albums are usually for that reason, especially when something drastic chances for a band. They were asked if LGBTQ themes would be present on their new album, which is a strange question (although it makes sense, if they’re writing about what they know and their own experiences), and they said that are still going to use gender neutral pronouns in their songs, and that’s ultimately a smart move.

That doesn’t have any effect on me one way or another, both because I’m not a diehard fan, and I also haven’t listened to these guys in a couple of years. I did briefly listen to 2020’s Skeletons, and enjoyed that a bit. I really loved their 2016 debut, Pawn Shop, and their albums have been consistently solid, albeit nothing worthwhile. I can kinda say the same here, although I have to admit that I really like this album. They don’t totally reinvent themselves here, but this album has a few curveballs, including some R&B, funk, and disco-ish numbers. A lot of this album is still relatively standard pop-country / country-rock that they’re known for, so the reinvention doesn’t make a ton of sense, but there are some new enough ideas here that make it worth it.

If anything, this album is really slick, catchy, and pretty fun. There are some nice hooks on this relatively short album, which only clocks in at 35 minutes, and the vocal performances are great throughout. TJ Osborne has a nice baritone that is rather unique for the genre, and he has some good range. Miranda Lambert makes an uncredited guest appearance on “We Ain’t Good At Breaking Up,” which she co-wrote with them, too. The instrumentation is a lot of fun, especially with some solid guitar solos that pop up from time to time throughout the album, and even the more disco and funky cuts, such as “Goodbye’s Kickin’ In,” or “Ain’t Nobody Got Time For That.”

The lyrics are the only thing on this record that brings it down a bit, but they’re not bad or weirdly written, like a few songs on Dan + Shay’s new one, they’re just not unique at all. These songs are about pretty cliched things, although they do it well enough. They don’t say anything new, but they don’t make it boring, either. A song like “Back Home” is about how people miss their hometowns the longer they’re away (that’s not always true, but that’s neither here nor there), or a song like “Love You Too” has the either brilliant or awful lyric of “Hate on me, love you, too,” and while that song is about only showing love towards people, it’s still done well enough.

I’d honestly recommend this record if you want a catchy and short country-rock album. This won’t necessarily win any awards, or blow your mind if you’re looking for a unique country record, but it gets the job done and offers some stuff that the band hasn’t done before, and that you don’t see too much from country, such as funkier sounds. Out of last two albums I reviewed, being this and the new Dan + Shay, this one is “better,” but not by a whole lot. That’s not even to say that Dan + Shay’s new album is bad, either; I really like that record, but it doesn’t have a long shelf life, per se. This one has a bit of a longer one, albeit it depends on how much you enjoy this band and/or country-rock. I’d recommend this, though, as it’s pretty fun and energetic, despite its cliched lyricism.

[petitelepus]

Hello! I’d like to request a TWST match-up please! I’d also like to apologize for doing this as a submission rather than an ask, but I couldn’t fit this in an ask and wanted to give you a thorough description to work with. If you’d rather not, than feel free to delete.

I’m 5’9” with bob-length purple hair. You’ll almost never see me without a full face of makeup (I love to do colorful looks), but I dress more casually than I’d like to most of the time. The styles I see myself wearing in my head (high fashion and glamor) do not match the clothes I end up wearing in real life (mostly basics, leggings, and jeans lol). I’m non-binary (she/they) but I love to present very femme.

 I’m a textbook Libra and an INFP-T, but I consider myself to be more ambiverted. It takes time for me to warm up to people, not because I’m shy necessarily, but because I’m awkward and godawful at small talk. However, once we’re friends, I’m super open and can be pretty outgoing. I’ve been told that I generally have a mature and calming presence at first, but I’m a silly person once I’ve warmed up to them. Sometimes I can have a bit of a temper, but even then, I can think clearly enough to tell someone, “I’m ticked right now. Give me some time to cool down before I get worse and say something I don’t mean at all.” This also goes for times where I’ve hit a very low point emotionally, where I know I can mostly sleep off a bad funk. I’m resourceful and quick-witted, and have a fine-tuned sense of humor. I’ve delivered some great one-liners throughout my life, but on occasion they don’t go over too well, which can be a source of anxiety for me.

While I’ve mostly conquered my issues with self-confidence, I still struggle with them from time-to-time, generally in the presence of anyone who I perceived to have accomplished more than I have in the same amount of time or less. I also have a bit of a bad habit getting caught up in things that happened in my past and letting that affect how I view myself now. If I have anything going for me, it’s my wit and resourcefulness. 

In college, I studied English and Creative Writing and had big dreams to work in publishing, but those dreams got dashed. Now, I’m in beauty school getting my esthetics license and hope to work as a pro make-up artist once I’m done. However, my background in literature and writing are still important to me and I love doing literary analysis and writing fic. In my free time, I love to watch reality TV (mostly RuPaul’s Drag Race and most of it’s spin-offs), write, and play video games. I used to do ballroom and latin dance, but I’ve been on a break from it for a little bit as I got burnout. However, I hope to return to it once I’ve graduated from beauty school. I have way too many plushies than someone my age should probably own, but I love cute little buddies to snuggle with.

In a partner, I look for someone who I can genuinely consider a best friend/one of my best friends. They also have it together for the most part and could guide me a little bit when I have to navigate through rough waters. Alternatively, I’d like to be the person they go to first when they need a different perspective on something that’s bothering them. They need a good sense of humor too, because if they can’t laugh at my jokes or make me laugh too, then we might have issues.

I match you with Lilia Vanrouge!

As a Libra, there is a chance that you don’t like negative or pessimistic people, as you thrive with happiness and joy. Not only that, but INFP people are idealistic and try to find goodness even in the worst situations. Lilia is exactly the same way and this old Fae loves having fun and is maybe one of the most optimistic people you will ever know.

He is a huge fan of your hair and has suggested that the two of you should dye your hair the same color. Lilia is also a fan of your make-up skills and supports your studies 100 percent. He likes to offer himself for you to practice your make-up skills and if you need help then he is happy to aid you. With long age comes a lot of wisdom.

It doesn’t matter to Lilia if you appear a little awkward at first, he can see right through you and happily gives you time to get used to him and his company. You open up to him quickly and he is happy to see the more outgoing and silly side of you. Not that he dislikes your mature side, but Lilia actually admires that side in you also. It takes a lot to recognize when you aren’t feeling well and it tells how mature you are when you ask to be left on your own until you feel better.

Lilia has lived a long life so it’s only natural that you might feel a little intimidated by his accomplishments, but he always tells you that you shouldn’t fear him or feel bad about yourself. You’re witty and resourceful and those qualities carry you through troubles that life may throw at you.

He is sorry that your dreams didn’t come true, but as said above, he supports your new dream of becoming a make-up artist. If you ever write anything, Lilia would love to be your test reader and point out things he likes and some points that may need some fine-tuning.

What’s RuPaul’s Drag Race? When you explain the show to the Fae, Lilia’s eyes widen in excitement. He wants to watch the whole show and all the seasons and spin-offs with you and talk about the drag queens’ dresses! The two of you actually take notes about how the queens do their make-up so you learn more from them.

Lilia is actually a pretty decent player and would love to play video games with you! He would also like to dance with you, but with your size difference, it might be a little funny to others to look at, but if you will do him the honor of dancing with him then he will show you a great time.

Plushies! Yes, you can never be too old to have a plushie or two! Also, you can always trust Lilia to laugh at your jokes since he finds them genuinely funny and he hopes you enjoy his jokes as much as he enjoys yours.

Lilia wishes that you see him as your best friend, for he would love to be yours. As said, he is older than he looks so he is wise. He will happily guide you through the hardships that life may throw at you if you let him help you. If he ever feels like he needs someone’s shoulder to lie against, you’re his number 1 choice to go to. He trusts you that much.

[tragiclilb]

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ YOUR NAME ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

(Alex can’t get your name out of his mouth)

(Warnings: fluff, lots, horrible amounts, drinking)

(A/n: Yes I know this should have been more than a oneshot unfortunately i’m a little bitch who refuses)

(Words: 1858)

“Please I swear it will be fun!” He said pulling me into his room.

“Alex, you said that the last party. And we know how that turned out.” I said giving him a telling look.

In the past 4 months he’s had a track record of bad party experiences. He for some reason couldn’t leave a party with out making a girl mad. Each girl seemingly not only furious with him but me as well after. I just have learned to assume it’s because I’m his best mate but, it still always felt a bit odd.

We would go to a party, he would get shit faced, and 2 hours later I would have a girl storming up to me, saying I should deal with him. And I was not looking forward to spending my Friday like that this time.

“Please I’ll do anything. I just need you there.” He said giving me a pouty look. His dark, shoulder length hair falling in-front of his face. Sometimes he’s just so exhausting.

“Oh fine. But this is the last party, I swear.”

“Thank you! Well, we better get going, we’re already late.” He smiles wide and drags me to the car.

“So you sleeping over at mine?” I make sure to ask ahead of time. Knowing I’ll be driving home.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He nods pulling his jacket back in place after the buckle tossed it around. He starts the engine and rolls away driving down a few streets to the house party.

We pull up and immediately I can see it’s already packed. We walk in, the music pounding are ears. It’s some trashy pop song that came out last year. We both looked at each other and laughed a bit at the sound.

“I’ll go get us some drinks, okay?” He yells over the noise.

“Okay sounds good.” I say and he walks away to the kitchen.

I wander around for a while looking to see if I could finds anyone I know. Old friends from when we where in school always tend to show up at these things.

I search around till at the stairs I see Emma, one of my said school friends. She meets my eyes and runs down the stairs her long blonde hair swaying behind her. She was still as gorgeous as ever. She was the type of person in school who everyone was drawn to. She was insanely popular, but kind as well. It’s almost annoying.

“Hi, how have you been.” She smiles.

“Pretty good actually, I’ve been traveling around with the boys for a while. Where back in town for a break though.” I explain and she nods smirking to herself.

“You still hopelessly in love with turner?” She laughs and I fight the urge to smack my hands over her mouth.

“Shhhh, he’s somewhere around here, also we don’t talk about that. It was years ago.” I say looking around panicked. Hoping he didn’t overhear.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, it was a sweet crush though, you where head over heels.” She giggles, just then I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“For who?” Alex asks innocently, obviously already multiple drinks in.

“No one, just an old school crush.” I say covering for myself. He looks at me with suspicious eyes. He probably noticed he was staring to long so he shakes his head looking down. The drinks obviously getting to him.

“Hey come on, let’s do shots.” He says getting out of his momentary funk grabbing my shoulders.

“Alex, I’m staying sober tonight, you know this. I have to drive you home.” I say and he sighs loudly.

“Your no fun.” He runs his hands through his hair letting go of me and walking to the counter. He takes 3 more shots and scoffs. I feel bad so I walk over to him leaning against the counter next to him. He puts his hand out for me and I grab it. He fiddles with my fingers. Picking at my nail polish which I’ll just have to re apply later.

“I’m sorry for dragging you along, I know you don’t like this stuff.” He says turning to look at me.

“It’s okay, I’m pretty sure I go anywhere you go anyways.” I say jokingly and he smiles to himself getting pink in the face. Probably the alcohol heating him up. He looks back up to my eyes.

“You…. You have really pretty eyes.” He says looking dazed. He makes it so hard to forget about my feelings. He loves to say horribly sweet things when he’s out of it. It’s another reason I didn’t want to come to the party. It hurts hearing him say things I wish he actually felt, only for him to go try and make out with random girls a few minutes later.

“Yeah yeah okay, I’m gonna go get you some water.” I say and go to the back yard looking for a cooler.

Much to my dismay the cooler happened to be In the front yards for some reason. So after 10 minutes of traveling between people and searching for it, I found it and grabbed a few waters. I’m about to walk back in the kitchen when Emma walks up to me.

“Your not gonna believe this. Alex just tried to make out with me. I mean he didn’t hide how insanely drunk he was so his oddness makes sense.” She says looking uncomfortable.

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” I apologize for my best friends behavior.

“You know, he said something weird.” She enquirers.

“Huh?”

“He asked if He could call me your name.” She says funnily.

“Are you kidding?” I say shocked.

“No I swear. I mean he seemed so upset when I walked in the kitchen. He was downing a drink and I asked if he was okay. He kept asking where you had gone.”

“He so dramatic, I told him I was getting water.”

“He was probably to out of it. But I swear he sounded like you used to in school. Him getting all gushy about you.” She laughs. “I swear he’s just as infatuated with you as you where with him. Asking to call me your name and such.” She explains and my eyes go wide. I mean that’s insane right? We’ve been best friends since children.

“Why wouldn’t he just say something to me about it then?” I ask tuning my hand across my face, stressed. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I still felt the same. Watching him over these past few years. Performing the way he does. Getting to sit on the side and watch him. The way his hair fell as he played the guitar. Or the smooth sound of his voice ringing through my ears. He’s entrancing really.

But he always seemed so out of reach when it came to my feelings. He was a star. Who had all the options he wanted. Groupies and such. Why would he want me? So I never acted.

“Well, why didn’t you?” She says giving me a knowing look. “I think you should go speak to him.” She pats my shoulder and sends me into the kitchen. I walk in and I see him hunched over the counter fiddling with an empty shot glass. I walk over taking the shot glass out of his hands, setting it down. I grab his hand and lead the pouting man through the crowd, back out to the car.

“Why are we leaving so soon?” He asks slurred.

“Sweetheart, your drunk of your ass.”

“That’s beside the point.” He rolls his eyes, a big yawn taking over a few seconds later.

He leans his head on my shoulder and without answering his question I drive back to my place. Somehow I get him upstairs into bed without him passing out.

“Darling…” he says his hair falling over his eyes as he lays down.

“Yeah.” I say in the doorway about to head to the couch.

“I wrote a song about you.” He softly grins.

“Oh yeah? Can I hear it?”

“Maybe one day.” He giggles to himself and I can tell he’s to far gone.

“Goodnight Alex.” I say closing the door and going out to the couch.

When I woke the next morning I saw Alex sitting in the chair by the couch. He was drinking something hot as I could see the steam from the cup. I sat up and rubbed my eyes yawning.

“Morning.” He says softly as I get up and walk to the counter boiling some water, and grabbing a tea bag.

“Morning.” I respond in the same soft manner.

“Could we talk about last night.” He asks as I sit back down.

“Yeah I actually wanted to speak about that.” I say and he seams nervous.

“Alex… why did Emma from school tell me you asked to call her my name, before kissing her?” I said being quite blunt with it. If I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

“I- oh god, I’m a mess when I’m drunk aren’t I?” He says trying to laugh it off.

“Alex, be honest with me here, cause I don’t understand how you can say all theses complements and being dare I say flirtatious one minute, and then going and asking to call girls my name if you don’t feel some way…. About me.” I say cautiously. If this goes wrong I’m losing my best friend.

“You’re not wrong.” He says awkwardly.

“I’m not?” I say a bit flabbergasted. But mostly relieved.

“You just… hypnotize me. I can’t explain it. I don’t even know why it took me so long to realize it to be honest.” He says tucking his hair behind his ears. His dark eyes where big, almost surprised at the fact he was saying what he was saying out loud.

“But these past few months, I keep trying to tell you, but I would say something and you’d shoot me down. I would go find some girl to take my mind off you. But it never works. Cause….. cause there not you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“I’ve loved you since I was thirteen.” I say and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face flash into a smile so big.

“Well that’s bloody good to hear.” He says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, it’s just, you could chose anyone you wanted. Girls fawn over you. I just didn’t think it’d be me.” I say honestly and he gets up walking over to me.

“You daft woman.” He says scanning my face. I was confused for a second till he placed a hand to my cheek. His fingers ruff from the years of guitar. His eyes bore into mine making my knees week as he pulled me up. He placed a innocent kiss to my lips. It was almost like an apology for lost time we could of had if we where smarter. It was slow and sensual. His finger tips ended up in my hair as we pulled away.

“I’m infatuated with you.” He grins and I smile wide.

[thatonebrazilian]

Hello Darkness ~ Chapter 8

… Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9 ...

A/N: Heeey beautiful ppl, just dropping this off. Sorry for not being as active, I got some of my shit solved, but then I got into a funk (although I have been writing a bit more this last couple days, so I think things are looking up). Anyway, hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 (Also, if I've forgotten to add anyone to the taglist, you can just call me out on it)

Summary: You were happy with Wanda until you found Vision on her bed. You loved her, though, you would have forgiven her eventually, but Natasha couldn’t let you throw away your chance at true happiness like that. So she took matters into her own hands.

Warnings: Cheating, Kidnapping, Gaslighting, non-con sex, non-con drug use, non-con alcohol consumption, Stockholm syndrome, soft!dark!Natasha, synthetic cock, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, praising kink, little bit of mommy kink… I think that’s it, lmk if I need to add more. MINORS DNI. You have been warned.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4967

“Is this really necessary?” you asked, groaning in annoyance at one of your best friends.

You and your team were sitting at the table, well, most of the team anyway. Natasha sat by your side, stealing fruit from your plate, Tony was right in front of you, a huge smile on his face as he told you about the party.

“Of course it is! You’re back after months of being MIA, we gotta celebrate!” he opened his arms wide, his voice oozing excitement.

“Stark’s right!” Thor said, munching on… Was that a chicken wing? “We have missed you, lady Y/N, and you have finally graced us with your presence again, that is indeed reason for celebration.”

That brought a smile to your face. You had missed Thor’s joyfulness and weird speech patterns.

“I agree,” said Steve, making everybody sitting on the table gasp.

“Are my ears deceiving me? You? Agreeing with Tony?” Bucky said, laughing out loud.

Steve lightly punched Bucky’s arm, kissing his cheek right after. You raised your brows, your smile growing even bigger. “When did this happen?” you asked them, a single finger pointing alternatively at the two. “I mean, it was always pretty obvious, but-”

“You wanna talk about obvious, buttercup?” Bucky asked, eyes focused on how you automatically pushed Natasha’s favorite fruit to the side to give her easier access.

You lifted a single brow and shrugged as if her leg wasn’t tangled with yours beneath the table cloth. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, fighting off a smirk, which was not easy considering the way Natasha’s foot started rubbing against yours.

“Don’t know my ass,” Tony said under his breath, but of course you heard it.

“Language!” your friends said, making Tony laugh and Steve blush.

“You’re really never going to forget it, right?” the blond grumbled, making everyone sitting on the table laugh even more.

God, how you have missed this, how you have missed your team together, laughing and making fun of each other, telling jokes. But you also miss your family, your friends. You couldn’t wait to get out of here and visit them, taking Natasha with you, being able to show to everyone just who you belonged with, who belonged to you.

That’d be a reality soon, you knew it in your bones.

“You lot are incorrigible.” You said with a smile on your face, shaking your head and getting up.

It hadn’t taken long for you to finish eating, so you got out of the table and waited for Natasha to join you. You two made your way to your room then, the old one, the one that was yours before Wanda. The whole way there you could feel your body tingling with desire, not just lust, no, but desire to simply touch her, to hold her hand, put an arm around her, caress her hair, kiss her temple. You wanted to be able to show how much you loved your woman. It wouldn’t take much longer to do it in public, you tried to convince yourself.

And before you realized it, the two of you were in your room. You pulled Natasha by the hand and kissed her slowly.

“I love you,” she said, smiling into the kiss.

“I love you too,” you replied, pushing her away a little and pointing a finger at her “even though you should have stood by me. I don’t want a party!”

Natasha laughed as you walked to your wardrobe and opened it. A frown marked your face, there was almost nothing there.

“Hum… Nat, what happened to my clothes?” you asked.

Natasha smirked, it almost made you forget about the clothes. That woman was hypnotic. “You mean the ones I didn’t bring with me back to the cabin? Well, a few months ago you said you needed a wardrobe change, and I took care of it… Which means I got rid of your old clothes.” She shrugged.

You remember telling her that, you remembered you wanted to try a new style, new outfits, a new vibe. You smiled again, getting closer to her and, once again, pulling her closer by the hand.

“So what am I going to wear to this party?” you asked, bending your head forward to nuzzle her neck, kissing it delicately.

“Don’t worry about that,” Nat breathe out slowly, as if she was fighting off a moan, “I’ll take care of it for you.” She said, pulling you even closer and kissing your temple before pulling away to kiss at the tip of your nose. “But for that, I gotta go. See you at the party!”

“Nat, wait-” but she was already gone.

You got out of the shower to find a suit and a dress in your bed, you picked up the suit, a beautiful two-piece that fit you perfectly, hugging all your curves without making you uncomfortable. Beside it was a note; Natasha’s handwriting was exquisite, you always knew that, but to see the words of love and devotion directed at you made your heart jump in your chest.

The note told you to meet her there, she wanted it to be a surprise for her, to see which look would you choose. You smiled as you read it. You didn’t waste any time getting ready, you first did your hair, then applied make-up, put on the suit, and finally left for the party.

You hadn’t wanted to go in the beginning, but the prospect of seeing Natasha, of her seeing you looking this hot... God, now you couldn’t wait for it.

The party was in full swing when you got there, there were way more people than you had anticipated, you looked all around to see if you could find your beautiful redhead, but there was no sign of her, so you decided to mingle with your friends.

You approached Tony and realized Steve, Bucky, Pepper and that Parker kid were with him. The kid was the first one to realize you were coming their way, he grabbed Tony’s arm and shook it a little, he couldn’t contain his voice “Mr. Stark, it’s her, it’s her!”

Tony laughed out loud as the others turned to look at you.

“Looks like you have a fan, little witch.” Your best friend said.

“Shut up, tin-man,” you said as you approached them, a smile lighting up your face as you looked at the teen “how’re you doing, Peter?”

“I -I am fine, how are you, miss?” he stuttered, his cheeks were blushing. How cute.

“I’m good, kid,” you said, still smiling, then turned to Pepper, your eyes softening “hey Pep, it’s been a while.”

The woman took a couple steps forward and hugged you. She adored you almost as much as Tony. “Yeah, it has, you decided to disappear on us after all.”

“Hey, I was just taking some time for myself, I’m back now, aren’t I?” you said, pulling away from her a little and using one of your hands behind her back to give Tony the middle finger (he was laughing at you, the fucker).

“Oh, she very much is,” You fought against a flush as you heard her voice. God, how could only her voice make you all warm?

“Ohh, the lover’s here,” Tony said, and Pepper slapped his arm.

“Who? You mean Natasha?” Steve asked and you wondered how could be so imperceptive.

It’s not like you and Nat were trying to showcase your relationship, quite the opposite really, but even before Wanda cheated and you, ahem, left, your friends already suspected. All but Steve, it was adorable, really, how innocent he was.

“He doesn’t mean anything. Do you, Tony?” Natasha asked, there was a smirk on her face, you saw Tony squirm a little.

Ohh, she had dirt on him, you were sure of that. You’d ask her about it later.

“Would you look at that, drinks!” your friend said, grabbing a glass of whisky for himself.

Before you could react Natasha got the two of you flutes of champagne.

“Thank yo-,” you were saying, but your words got stuck in your throat. Your smile gave way to a shocked expression when you looked at her, really looked at her. You took in her dress, the piece hugging her curves and then spreading out to delicately cover her beautiful legs, leaving a single one on display through its side opening.

“Fuck. Tasha, you look-” you didn’t even know the word to describe it, you wanted her painted in a portrait, you wanted her picture hanging from ceiling to floor in your room, you wanted to build a fucking shrine to this resplendent goddess in front of you.

“Wow,” you breath out, settling for that, ‘cause there was nothing better to describe her, nothing good enough to express how truly magnificent she was.

The blushing smile she gave you melted your heart.

Bucky snorted. “Not lovers, my ass.”

Natasha punched his arm lightly. The punch, of course, did nothing, but a single glare from her was enough to shut him up. She was the perfect combination of brains, power and beauty and everybody knew that. Natasha Romanoff is a force to be reckoned with. “She’s my best friend,” the redhead said.

Bucky put his arm around Steve’s shoulder, making him smile. “Yeah, and Steve was mine.” The brooding soldier said under his breath.

“Don’t give me ideas, Barnes,” you said, your eyes still on Natasha, you just couldn’t tear them away. She was perfect, and she was yours.

“As if you haven’t had those ideas already,” Tony said, Natasha stepped on his foot, Pepper slapped his arm once again and you used your magic to flicker his forehead.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed “What was that for?!” he looked at Peter then “Help me! I’m being attacked from all sides!”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” the teen said, “you’re on your own.”

Tony looked at him affronted. Then at Pepper and at you. “This is mutiny!”

You all laughed, you felt Natasha’s hand on your lower back and you couldn’t remember feeling this happy.

Until you saw him. That fucking glorified toaster floating up to your group as if it was welcomed. It, not him, it wasn’t a human being so you wouldn’t refer to it as one.

“Hello there, fellow teammates.” Vision said, floating into your circle as if he was welcomed.

“Hello Vision,” said Steve, always the oblivious fool.

You scowled the moment you laid eyes on Alexa. You know that the one truly at fault there was Wanda, she was the one committed in a relationship with you, but Vision wasn’t innocent either. Not in any sense of the word. He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he did it anyway.

You were happy, honestly happy with Natasha, you couldn’t even remember the last time you felt so much in love. It for sure wasn’t with Wanda. You had loved her, yes, maybe you still did a little, but what you had with Natasha was deeper, stronger. Transcendental.

Yet, the pain from Wanda’s betrayal still lingered.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with no small amount of venom in your voice.

“Well, I’m enjoying this gathering.” Vision said, looking at you with that expressionless robotic face.

“My party.” You said.

“No, Mr. Stark’s party.”

“That he threw in my honor. You know as well as everyone that you don’t want to celebrate my return, so why are you here?” You took a step towards him, but stopped when you felt Natasha’s hand on your arm.

“Y/N, go cool off, get a drink or something.” She said, eyes never leaving the robot.

You opened your mouth to ask for her to come with you, but she already knew that, she knew you better than you knew yourself.

“I’ll be escorting Vision out.” She said, serious, the others were all tense while witnessing the exchange.

“I will not be leaving this party,” the robot said.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Natasha’s warning look was all it took for you to sigh and take your leave. You knew she’d find you later.

You walked to the bar then, set down and ordered a drink, it didn’t take long for her to find you. It just wasn’t the woman you wanted to see.

“Can we talk?” Wanda asked.

You shook your head. “We have nothing to talk about”.

You had just gotten up when her hand found yours, her eyes were pleading you to stay. You should hate her, you did to some extent, but you couldn’t deny her closure. Because that’s what this conversation would be. A definitive end.

You sat down again. “Talk.” Was all you said.

“I made a mistake-”

“Oh, did you?” you cut her off, sarcastically.

“Y/N, please, listen to me. I made a mistake, and I regret it. I won’t lie to you, I do love Vision, but you are the love of my life, I can’t bear the thought of living without you.” She said, her eyes were full of pain, full of regret.

A part of you thought that in another life, one where she hadn’t cheated, you’d gather her in your arms and make her feel better, but a bigger part of you knew that there wouldn’t be a single reality out there, not a single life where you wouldn’t eventually fall in love with Natasha Romanoff.

You shook your head. “You should’ve thought of that when you were fucking him in our bed.”

“Y/N/N, please, I want to make it up to you, I want to prove that I’m willing to do anything to have you back.” She pleaded, her eyes reddened due to unshed tears. It was somehow weird how the sight didn’t affect you as it should.

You looked at her, tilting your head a bit to the side. She looked desperate. You didn’t give a fuck.

“Really?” you asked then.

“Really,” she said, her eyes lighting up with hope.

You smiled coldly and leaned away a little, as if being close to her was simply something you could not stand. “Then you can make sure to stay away from me. And make sure your glorified toaster stays out of my sights.”

You got up and turned around to leave again, but she stopped you once more.

“Y/N, please-”

You whirled around to look at her, this time there was anger in your eyes. “You know what he just did, Wanda? He just came up to me and my friends, at my welcome-back party. What do you think he wanted? ‘Cause I’m sure as hell he wasn’t going for an apology.”

Wanda opened her mouth, but you cut her off. “He was going to rub it in my face, Wanda,” you said, getting angrier and angrier by the second, “he was going to brag about the fact that the woman I love is on his bed, that the woman I-”

“Love?” she asked, cutting you off, “Present tense? You still love me, then?”

You hadn’t realized your slip. Of course there was a part of you that still loved Wanda, but the word in present tense was a mistake. You opened your mouth to tell her so, to tell her that you had thought you wouldn’t be able to live without her, that it had felt like your whole world had been turned upside down, but that now, not only you know you can survive, you know you can thrive.

Now you know love like you’ve never known before.

You wanted to say all of that, but Wanda took a couple steps closer to you and cupped your face before you could get your words out. “Moya solnishko, my little sun, I’m not asking you to forgive and forget”, she said, tears pooling in her eyes “I’m just asking you to open up to me, let me in your life again. Just give me a chance to make it up to you, to show you how much I love you.” You felt her touching your mental barrier.

Before you could get angry, before you had the chance to push her away both from your mind and from your body, you felt a hand pulling you.

“You again?” Natasha asked, stepping between you and the witch “What? Breaking her heart once was not enough for you?”

Wanda’s pupils grew red for a second, her beautiful eyes filled with the ugliest feeling. She may have not been Natasha’s biggest fan before, but now? Now she hated her.

“I’ll prove to you, and to her, that I only want to make her happy.” Wanda said, taking another step closer, this time to Natasha “And sooner or later she’ll see that your intentions aren’t nearly as pure as she thinks they are. You’ll pay for taking her from me.”

You saw red.

How dare she threaten Natasha like this?! Before you realized what you were doing you got between them, eyes blazing with blue energy, hands shaking with unleashed power, body blazing with rage.

And just like that, as if it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world, you froze everyone in that room. It was as if time had been wrapped, as if you were manipulating it.

Admittedly, you’ve never been able to do something quite like this. Yes, you were pretty good a paralyzing people among other things, but stopping time was another thing altogether. Not that you noticed, of course, your fury made you mad, and it was all directed at the only person you did not freeze.

Wanda looked around, eyes wide with awe. “What did you-”

“I’ve been nice to you so far,” you said, getting right in front of Wanda, making her really take a look at you, your powers glowed blue around you, she took a couple steps back “I’ve been simply trying to avoid you, to avoid your puppet, to avoid conflict,” Wanda’s eyes widened when she realized she couldn’t move, you took another step towards her, your powers emanating so much heat it made her feel like her skin was on fire "but rest assured, Wanda, that if you ever threaten Natasha again, I won’t be so nice anymore. I’m warning you, leave Nat alone or there will be severe consequences.”

Wanda was taken aback, she didn’t react when time began to run its course normally, she didn’t react when Natasha once more pulled you away from her, walking towards the nearest door. You took a look back at Wanda to make sure she understood your warning.

You reveled in the fear you saw in her eyes.

Natasha took that the wrong way. “What, you want to run back to her?” your redhead asked.

You frowned and brought your eyes back to her. “What?”

You saw her throat muscles getting tense, the veins around her neck bulging. She was angry. You didn’t know why.

“You think I didn’t hear when you said you love her?” she asked, her tone neutral, but you knew her well enough. “Love, not loved. Do you want to go back to her, is that it?”

“What?! No, Natty-”

She let go of your wrist and turned to look at you. “You know what? Just go enjoy your party. It’d be weird if you left so early when it was thrown in your honor.”

You frowned. “What does it mean?”

She crossed her arms. Fuck, she was pissed. “It means don’t follow me.” And then she turned and left the party.

Oh, but you wouldn’t allow her to just leave like that. With a simple wave of your hand, everyone froze in place. You looked at the giant clock on the wall, you’d have to adjust it later to make it look as if time hadn’t passed.

You walked out, then, going after your woman.

Natasha wasn’t in sight anymore, but you knew where she was, it was like you could feel her. You followed her trail to her room. The door was locked, there was no noise coming from the inside. You used your magic to unlock it and stepped in.

“Didn’t I tell you not to follow me?” she asked, she didn’t need to turn around to know you were there, even if your entrance was completely silent.

“There’s no way I’d let you walk away from me.” You said, walking up to her.

She turned to you then and, faster than you could see, she came closer and grabbed your jaw. “Let me?” she asked. And then she was turning you around and bending you over the desk where she usually kept her computer. One of her hands held both your wrists behind your back and the other pulled your pants down, making it fall to your ankles.

And then she was pulling your underwear down as well, and shoving her fingers inside you, making you gasp, not in pleasure but in surprise.

“Natasha!” you yelped, “S-stop! We have to talk about-”

You were cut off when her hand left your pussy and came down on your ass. Hard. One, two, three times. She grabbed your ass cheek then, and caressed it a little before giving it two more spanks. You whimpered, willing your body not to give in to her, but you could feel your pussy getting wet already.

She shoved her fingers in again, working them in and out of your body for a few moments, scissoring them and curling them just short of that spot that made you go mad. Fuck her, she was trying to tease you and punish you at the same time.

“Tasha, wait, please” you tried, but she didn’t answer. You knew you could use your magic, you weren’t helpless anymore, not like you were before, when she took them away, but you’d never do it. You’d never use your powers on her and risk hurting her, no matter what she did to you.

Finally, she withdrew her fingers, having worked you up to a point where you could feel your slick dripping down your tights. You heard her press the insignia then, you heard the telltale sound of her cock materializing and you felt its velvety touch on your pussy, brushing your nether lips.

“You need a reminder of whom you belong to.” She said, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, sliding her cock up and down to gather your slick.

“Natasha, wait just a second, I know I’m yours, just listen to me, I was-”

She shoved her cock inside, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled moan. Three more slaps on your ass had you clenching down on her cock. She groaned, and god, that sound was heavenly and sinful, all wrapped in one.

“What were you saying, Y/N?” she asked and you groaned.

“This is not fair,” you moaned “you’re trying to distract me.”

“So you admit you’ve been thinking about her?” Natasha gritted out, using both hands to pull your blouse, making the buttons fly everywhere, freeing your breasts as she opened your bra. She grabbed your breasts harshly, making you gasp once again.

“You are mine,” she said between gritted teeth, pressing her lips against your ear. “You belong to me, Y/N.” Her fingers went to your nipples, tweaking and pulling on them until she had you whining underneath her. “I thought you’d have learned it by now.”

You whimpered, your traitorous body making you push your ass back in order to take more of her cock. “I’m yours Natty. Not just my body, but my soul. I love you, I love you, I love you…” you panted.

Natasha thrust forward particularly hard, sending you forward a bit, making the desk squeak, making your legs spread wider. You brought your hands to support you against the desk, but with the strength behind her pounding your arms felt weak, and yet you couldn’t help but push back in rhythm with her thrusts, completely at Nat’s mercy.

Her eyes squeezed shut as once more she grabbed a handful of your ass, spanking it a couple more times. “Do you?” she asked, “Then why did you say you love her? Why did you look back?”

“F-fuck,” you let out a whine, “I was- oh god, fuck – I was threatening her!”

At that, Natasha’s thrusts slowed down to an almost stop, she gripped your hips again, her fingers digging in as if she wanted to anchor herself to you. “What?”

You whined at the slower pace, wiggling your ass to try and make her move more. “I was angry, I made a mistake of saying love instead of loved. She insisted that she wanted me back, said you’d pay for taking me from her,” you said “and I made it clear that if she even came near you with ill intent, she’d face consequences. That’s why I looked back, to make sure she understood what I said!”

You turned your face to take a look at her. You imagined you were looking absolutely wrecked, considering that was how you felt, but still, Natasha was looking at you as if you were the encapsulation of all the answers in the world. As if you were her world.

“Detka, that’s…” to see Natasha Romanoff speechless was incredible, and it made you proud that you were the only person capable of that.

“I love you, I know I’m yours, just as you’re mine,” you said, and she gripped your hips even harder. You knew there were going to be marks, and you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of them, of having her brand on you. “Mine to care for, mine to protect. Mine to love.”

Her next thrust was so hard you had to grip the desk with all your strength not to dive headfirst into the wall. “Oh- Oh god, Natalia, fuck!” you bit out, your nails digging into the wood, your head thrown back, your mouth hanging open.

Each time Nat thrust forward, you let out a whorish moan, a sinful sound you only ever made for her and her alone. The pounding is rough and exquisite, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted. You can distinctly hear beyond your own lewd moans that Natasha is grunting and groaning from both the effort and the pleasure as you match her thrust for thrust, eagerly pushing your hips back to get her cock even deeper.

“God, Detka, you are so gorgeous like this,” Nat says and you wish you could hear her praise you every single second of every single day. “So perfect spread around me, so beautiful fucking yourself on my cock. I love you, Y/N/N, mommy loves you so much.”

You moaned again, clenching down on her. “Fuck, fuck, oh, mommy, please” you mumbled incoherently, unable to pay attention to how wanton you sounded, to how dirty the two of you looked. All you knew what Natasha, Natasha and her divine cock. “Please, please, fuck your baby girl, give her your cock!”

“Oh baby, I’m going to give you more than my cock. Mommy’s gonna come inside this dirty little pussy of yours. You want mommy’s cum, Detka?”

At that you sobered up, trying to turn to push her away, but Natasha grabbed your wrists once again and pinned them behind your back.

“Tsk, tsk, you know better than to resist.” She said, still railing you “You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

“Nat, stop, you know I’m in my fertile window, you can’t-”

Your words got cut off by another particularly hard thrust, you stopped talking entirely, only nonsensical little noises leaving your mouth. Natasha redoubled her efforts, getting deeper, doing it harder, hitting your g spot every time she dared to move.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard, trying to concentrate, trying to focus on the pain and not the pleasure she was giving you. “N-Natasha,” you said, “don’t do it, p-please, please, don’t come inside. I’m not ready to be a mother”.

Natasha didn’t reply, she didn’t say anything at all, she just reached down with one of her hands and started rubbing your clit. You felt your eyes burning, your face suddenly wet with tears, fear coiling up with pleasure in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t want it to be like this, never like this.

Her pounding lost its rhythm, her movements became jerky, one of her hands dug half-moons on your hips while the other applied hard pressure against your clit. You froze, your orgasm taking over you, for a brief second washing away the thought of pregnancy, of motherhood, of being locked up again for a whole different reason.

And then you felt it inside you, her cum, hot and thick as it’s always been. You started sobbing then, the feeling you learned to love, to crave, now bringing you to the brink of desperation.

Natasha didn’t pull her cock out, she leaned over you and started caressing your hair, kissing your temple, drawing soothing circles on your hip with her thumb. Her hips started moving again. She didn’t have to tell you, you knew she’d be fucking you all night long, filling you up with her cum, breeding you. The thought both excited and terrified you.

“It’s gonna be ok, my love,” Natasha whispered, littering your temple with kisses “remember, I know you better than you know yourself, and I know you’re gonna love this. This’ll mark you as mine, mark me as yours, bind us together like we’ve never been before.” She said, thrusting into you, “We’ll have a family to call our own, Detka.”

And against your better judgment, you relaxed against her, your tears subsiding as you started to push back, after all she did know you better than you knew yourself.

-----

HD Taglist: @romanoffsgal, @ministark, @liladoesfanfics, @wandanatvoid, @inlovewithfaberry, @kermy48, @fabgronsky, @natashakink, @strangegardentaco, @im-stilltired, @blinkmuch, @wandanatblogs, @blackwow34, @a-grinch, @proudmorning, @nuianced-tck-enby, @gayformaximoff, @tati3001, @sav06nat, @milfloverslut, @halobaby, @yomama010101, @raqelacevedo, @1uthina, @coxmicbabygirl, @olicity-boo, @screechcat, @savethecookie, @beenicejoy, @simpforflorencepugh1, @watashiwaglr38, @myplaceofsolace, @wildnightuniverse, @limelight111, @whore4nat, @mrsdanversluthorplease, @silveeer-duuust, @natflough04, @kiaranatsslut, @raniellee

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo

[scarlett-vixen]

hey, contrats for the 200 followers !! how are u ? uhm is it possible for a mammon fluff with S ??

I’m doing well! Better once I get these last few prompts finished😌 I’d write anything for Mammon so of course!

Prompt: S- Stars

Pairing: Mammon x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

You had been feeling a little homesick recently, missing your favorite restaurants, stores and places to hang out back in the human world, and the change in your mood had not gone unnoticed by the brothers. They could tell something was off, you had become more reserved and less excited about things you normally loved to do, your happiness has always been their top priority.

Lucifer had found you in the library reading by yourself, he informed you that Lord Diavolo was granting you a three day trip back home, he also mentioned that Diavolo was allowing you to take one of the brothers along. You knew instantly which one you wanted to take, the two of you had talked about it a million times, you started planning the perfect trip.

You had tried to keep a secret but the minute you saw him in the hall you had spilled the beans. Mammon looked like you’d just offered him 2 million grimm, after the initial shock dispersed he immediately started asking questions, he wanted to know everything you had planned.

Lord Diavolo had been generous enough to reserve a room for the two of you at a local hotel, though you didn’t spend much time there, all three days had been spent running around and exploring.

You took Mammon to all your favorite places, had him try all your favorite foods, and at night while the two of you were sprawled out on the bed trying to recuperate you showed him all your favorite late night tv shows.

Mammon enjoyed every second of the trip, although he had lied when you asked what his favorite thing so far was because the truth was too embarrassing, the thing he enjoyed above all else during your visit was seeing how happy you looked.

You took the time to explain everything new to him, you were so full of passion as you did, you were finally out of that funk you had been in for so long and it hurt him a little bit if he was honest.

He always thought you were happy in the Devildom with him and his brothers, but seeing you now? He knew this was you being truly happy. He did his best to suppress the thought of you wanting to stay here and not go back, he tried instead to just focus on the newest activity you had roped him into.

The end of your third day arrived and you were overjoyed with how much you had been able to see and do during your trip. You felt so much better after spending some time back home but there was still one more thing you wanted to do with Mammon while you were here.

“Here, catch!”

Mammon flinched but caught the object you threw at him, he stared down at it in confusion.

“Car keys? What are these for?”

“You can drive right?” You were beaming from ear to ear, barely able to contain your excitement.

“Yeah….why? What’s your game?” He asked cautiously.

“No game! I just want to go do one last thing tonight and I need you to drive us there! I promise it’ll be worth it!” Mammon saw the joy in your eyes and he wanted to tell you no, afraid that this last activity would be the thing that made you want to stay here without him, but damn you made it hard to say no.

10 o’clock rolled around and the two of you hopped in the rental car and took off for your final spot, you been so secretive about where the two of you were headed, Mammon couldn’t help but wonder where exactly you were making him go.

You played all your favorite songs for him on the way, after about thirty minutes of driving you told him to stop, he parked the car and still couldn’t figure out what was so special.

“I don’t get it. Ya had me drive us out into the middle of nowhere, it’s just an empty field with some trees, what could possibly be fun about this?”

“You’ll see!” You grinned and jumped out of the car “Hurry up!” You commanded before shutting the passenger side door.

Mammon sighed and got out of the car, you were already seated on the hood and rapidly patting the spot next to you, you’d be the death of him one day with how cute you looked all the time. He took his spot next to you

“Okay…now what oh wise human, when does the fun start” He teased.

“Look up.” Your eyes were locked on him, a smile still glued to your face, waiting for him to do so.

The Avatar of Greed looked up into the night sky and for the first time in centuries was at a loss for words. Above the two of you, in the inky black sky, hung the most beautiful crescent moon he had seen and scattered around it for miles on end were thousands of bright shining stars.

“I always loved looking at the stars before I went to the Devildom, I figured you might enjoy this too!.” You had hoped Mammon would be excited to lay out under the stars with you, instead he seemed rather glum.

“What’s wrong?” You tilted your head a little to get a better view of his face. “Don’t wanna go back to your brothers tomorrow?” You joked.

“Nah, ‘s not that.” Mammon flashed a tiny smile before looking down at his lap “It’s just…ya been so happy the last few days, and I get why, the Devildom doesn’t have any of these things…I mean, the stars alone are enough to make someone wanna stay here.”

He was always terrible at expressing his true feelings but you had learned how to read between the lines with him. You chuckled and placed your hand on top of his, causing the greedy demon to jump.

“Mams, do you know why I’ve been so happy here? It’s not because I want to stay or that I’m happier up here. It’s because I finally got to do some of the things I missed and I got to do them with you!” Even under the night sky Mammon couldn’t hide his blush, he avoided looking at you but hooked one of your fingers with his own.

“Course ya had more fun with me around, but ain’t ya gonna miss how pretty the sky looks like this? Stars don’t exist in the Devildom.”

“Maybe not,” you kissed his cheek gently, interlocked your fingers in his entirely, and rested your head on his shoulder. “But the Devildom has you…and you’re the only star I need.”

[greyeyedmonster-18]

“I am noticing some serious funk on this pinot,” Remus said, swirling the wine in his glass, smelling it pretentiously before taking a large gulp.

"Yes, yes, but not in a bad way!" Lily concluded in a phony accent, that could've been an impression of Sirius on his best behavior or one of his stuck up relatives.

 “No, it's spectucular. Grape notes flashing across your nose. And I’m tasting even more subtle ones of...is that...do you taste the leather? Like you’re biting down on a leather handbag.” Remus finished, throwing back the rest of his wine. Lily nodded in agreement, finishing her glass and putting it in the collection of empty ones.

“But lets not forget about this Syrah imported from the states. Just so velvety and rich...really sparks a memory, you know?” she said, picking up a new glass, Remus laughing beside her. The two of them had long stopped trying to hold in the noise they were making, Sirius and James watching in amusement and the two of them proceeded to get drunk at a wine tasting. 

“I’m also tasting like..” Remus smacked his lips quickly, “a little bit of shame? Like oh did I do something wrong? Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t?”

“You’re getting that from the wine?” commented Sirius, raising an eyebrow, his own glass of red in front of him.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’ face, kissing him quickly, “Absolutely."

“Every wine has a story, Sirius. Don’t you know anything?” asked Lily, picking up another glass, “Now this one! This Burgundy--”

“I think that’s just the color, love” James offered but Lily put a finger up to his lips.

“Shhh, listen to the story.”

Remus took a sip out of Lily’s glass, “For me it’s like...an angry quidditch team. Just really hot and coming off the field upset and ready to just unleash tension and--"

"Well now youre just making it dirty," Sirius reached forward taking the glass from Remus' hand and taking a sip, "I taste cherry, you know, how its supposed to taste. Not anal with an angry quidditch--"

"Now whose making it dirty? I was referring to a lost game!" Remus countered taking his wine back.

"It's okay, not everyone can have our refined palettes. You'll get there, Sirius." Lily said her hand resting on James' knee, "Now this last one, the Cabernet--"

"Oh! The cabernet!" Remus flourished dramatically, he and Lily continuing to sample and make lavish and ridiculous descriptions.

James nudged Sirius, leaning over slightly, "You think this is what it was like when they dragged us to that art museum?"

Sirius grinned, "Yes except we weren't drunk."

"I dunno if that makes it worse or better." James said, "But like....were in agreement were not doing this again?"

"Come tomorrow morning they won't want to do it again." Sirius responded, watching as Remus finished another glass of wine, looking at him from across the table with intention. Sirius sighed--the look wasn't what it usually was when they were out that prompted a trip to the lav. He raised his arm, signaling for the waiter as they walked by, Lily and Remus erupting with boisterous cheers, and neither James nor Sirius could even pretend to be annoyed or embarrassed when their favorite people were happy.

--

(in which remus and lily know nothing about wine but love making fun of people and sirius and james have more money than they know what to do with.)

[buttsmasher]

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot. 

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.” 

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh. 

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes. 

“Uh thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand. 

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you. 

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you. 

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad. 

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else. 

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile. 

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?” 

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.” 

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.” 

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk. 

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass. 

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.” 

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.” 

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle. 

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.” 

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him. 

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

[beevean]

So I watched Sonic 2 :)

I’m not going to make a long review because I need to process it, so here’s some of my garbled thoughts.

Things I didn’t like:

they reused their own jokes to the point it wasn’t fun anymore. Yeah, I get it, Agent Stone makes good coffee with steamed Austrian goat milk. You literally said you kept making them for Eggman *and* used it as your password in the span of 5 seconds, stop it. No, “meow?” was not that funny either.

not only there are fart jokes again (at least in mention this time), but much more innuendo. Rachel asks if the person who shaved her “mh-mh” was an agent. Robotnik is glad an axe didn’t cut his... “moustache”. “Let’s leave this shii--take of a planet”. I don’t know, it was a bit too much? Again, the more you do it, the less funny it is.

the Rachel substory draged on for a tad too long, and this is more of my problem but I couldn’t watch the part where Tom kept asking for the wedding ring because my cringe sensor was in overdrive. Also poor Rachel, she was annoying in the first movie but she didn’t deserve that :( I get the feeling the writers wanted to establish G.U.N., but they didn’t know how and they came up with this absurd subplot of the fake wedding that ends just like that and it might as well never happened.

Things I’m mixed/neutral about:

Sonic and Tails’ relationship was cute, but I feel it could have been deeper. I can’t explain exactly why I didn’t 100% feel it. Maybe it’s the fact that Sonic goes from “why should I trust you?” to “aww you’re my new lil bro” after one dance sequence. Maybe it’s the fact that Knuckles gets much more depth and focus than Tails. But in any case, Tails is adorable, I like how he starts out as a fanboy and then becomes a closer friend, it’s a solid start.

absolutely nitpicking, but I wish the Badniks took a more colorful appearance instead of still looking like EMMIs. But now they’ve evolved from eggs to Buzzbombers. I guess they’re taking a very slow approach from “cold clinical machines” to “goofy animal-shaped robtos”.

also I didn’t feel the music choice as much as I did in the previous movie. When Evil Grows was a brilliant choice for Eggman’s dance scene. Uptown Funk for Sonic and Tails’ dance scene is... fine? The scene itself is cute and it’s also foreshadowing, I just didn’t find myself grooving as much.

I’m not really sold on Robotnik’s insane personality? It feels random for the sake of random, and I wish they kept his random mood swings and non sequiturs for ME!Eggman. But then again, he did spend almost a year going insane on a mushroom planet (and who knows how many poisonous spores he inhaled), so at least there’s an in-universe explaination.

The mid-credits scene was exactly what I was expecting, and this movie established a few of the factors necessary so I had confirmation it was coming. I’m not particularly hyped, just curious. We’ll see what our big edgy boy will do in Sonic 3. I mostly can’t wait to see how they’re going to justify his lore in this universe - was he created? Is he an alien that was captured by the government? Also, are they going to recreate SA2′s iconic moments? Honestly, the only thing I care about is that there’s a very small chance Amy will appear as a surprise... please :(

Things I liked:

Labyrinth Zone! Complete with waterslides and crystals! Also an actual labyrinth this time! I did not expect a complete recreation of one zone, I love it

Probably the best reinterpretation of Knuckles outside of the games. He’s funny because he’s literal minded and a fish out of water, and he’s an actual threat, and he’s a honorable guy at heart :) he’s almost like SA1 Knuckles transported into S3&K and I couldn’t be happier. He and Boom Knuckles should be friends

The heart to heart scene they have after Robotnik takes the ME is my favorite non-action scene. Sonic risked drowning to save the guy who wanted to kill him, and then it looked like Knuckles left him to die but no he's too honorable for that. And they have a typical "why did you save me?" "because being a hero is about being responsible for others", but it feels so earnest, and Knuckles feels vulnerable, obviously torn about recent events, but we already established that those two have suffered in the same way so they can relate to each other and don't touch me I'm sensitive

I’m glad Tika Sumpter asked to be more involved because she was really funny in the second act :)

it’s been confirmed Agent Stone is in love with Robotnik, right? Like, he made a coffee with their faces and hearts between them. He yells “DOCTOR!! TAKE ME WITH YOU!!!” and “YOU’RE MAGNIFICENT!”. He’s in love. I’m not making this up. It’s literally canon, right? i’m so glad that he’s filling the starline-shaped hole in my heart <3

the cheesy moments like all the slowdowns are proof the crew just wanted to have fun <3

ngl it warmed my heart when Tails said that Sonic convinced him that being weird wasn’t so bad, probably the best way to say “representation is important” without sounding preachy lol

genuinely enjoying this multi-movie character arc of Sonic slowly becoming more and more like his games self, it feels natural and compelling. Some of his jabs are hilarious :P

after a boring second act, the third act fired on all cylinders. The Sonic vs. Knuckles fight was a marvel, Eggman’s betrayal both hurt for Knuckles and was a big “oh crap” moment, ME!Eggman is freaky, the Death Egg Robo is everything I was hoping for and then some, the newfound chemistry between Team Sonic, “let’s go get our kid” hsjkafaskjfhjaksf

Super Sonic. I might have gotten a little emotional.

(the way he takes out the DER is literally the best parts of the Unleashed intro and Sonic’s intro in ‘06, how do you get it that right)

and yeah, I can understand the eventual critcism that Eggman being superpowered by the ME goes against the point of his character that in a world of superpowered animals he can get by with only his intellect and mechanic skills. But ngl, I’m just hyped that, at least in one adaptation, Super Eggman is canon <3 (also he got that power with his intellect and skill so it’s still good in my book :P)

the G.U.N. reference was expected, but the SA-2 copter caught me off guard

same for the DER manual being styled like a Genesis game cover, i swear the amount of necessary but cute details

Sonic called Tom “dad” and I could die right now

So yeah, pretty good first act, mediocre second act, absolutely phenomenal third act that more compensates for the rest :)